A Right To Exist

"We can disagree and still love each other, unless your disagreement is rooted in my oppression and denial of my humanity and right to exist."

–James Baldwin, American writer and civil rights activist

They tried to erase Jesus. They being those in power. If you don't know the story, Jesus was ordered to be crucified by Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor of Judea at the time. Jesus had been accused of blasphemy, but Pilate initially found no reason to charge him. However, under pressure from the crowd and religious authorities, he eventually authorized the crucifixion to maintain public order. The Christian faithful know the rest of the story. Happy Easter. He is risen. 

For those who believe, that's their truth, and blessings to them, but my truth today is that "God has left the building" in this country we call America. I thought about this (and many other things that constantly swirl in my mind) as my wife Amy and I joined another local protest this weekend protesting all the blasphemous and destructive things the current administration is doing. I thought about erasure and the lack of due process sending non-criminal immigrants to an El Salvadoran prison. Even America citizens are at risk now.

As we walked around during the protest holding our signs up high, I worried that we're all candidates for erasure, especially women, people of color, and the LGBTQIA+ community. If you think that's an overreaction, then maybe you missed the following:

The current administration has undertaken extensive efforts to remove or alter historical references across federal websites, monuments, and educational materials, particularly those highlighting the contributions of marginalized groups. These actions are largely driven by Executive Order 14253, titled "Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History," which mandates the elimination of content deemed as promoting "divisive race-centered ideology".

And who are those marginalized groups? Women, people of color, and the LGBTQIA+ community. What does "restoring truth and sanity to American history" even mean? It actually means erasing the truth and rewriting it by scrubbing out the violent discriminatory stains of our history. 

And this is only just the beginning. 

I understand that there are those who feel like empathy and inclusion have been forced upon them, and that diversity and equity are bad things, which they're not. However, discrimination, division, and erasure are now being forced on many more. 

In the Bible, Jesus challenged the powerful, embraced those outcast, welcomed strangers, and condemned hypocrisy. He spoke of a kingdom defined not by worldly power or national identity, but by justice, mercy, and humility. Those in power tried to erase him, but they didn't succeed.

For those of us who stand up and speak truth to power today, they will try to erase us, too. But we all have a right to exist, so the time is now to do, to speak up. It really is. For our sake, our children's sake, and grandchildren's sake. We will not be erased. 

Happy Easter. Blessings to us all. 

To Do Or Not To Do

The first time it happened I opted to not do it, to not deal with it. So, I called for roadside assistance via our car insurance. In our own driveway.

The second time it happened, less than six months later, I was at a crossroads: do I attempt to do it myself or call again for roadside service. In our own driveway.  

Fortunately for me, I have an amazing and versatile wife who keeps her head cool under these circumstances. I, however, do not. My wife Amy came in the front door and said, "The back tire isn't holding air, and I found a screw in it."

I sat in the living room working as I listened to her words. I cursed multiple times, something I always do when I escalate into being stressed out. 

"Do you want to call roadside assistance again?" she asked.

I thought about it, continuing to curse in my head about the whole thing. 

"No, let's put the spare on. Please help me."

"Okay, let's do it," she said.

As we moved outside to the car I kept thinking about the life-hack lists that parents are supposed to share with their kids, the ones that include learning how to change your tire. Something I hadn't done since I owned my first car in high school. But how can I tell my kids to learn something that I haven't even done?

Amy and I did it together. Our youngest Bryce helped a little with the jack, and our oldest Beatrice came in and out of the house to watch us.

Now we know how to do it. I know how to do it. Later that night I joked with our kids, "Let's go change a tire."

They of course said, "No thank you."

A week later we discovered the Yoda fountain in front of the Industrial Light & Magic offices in the Presidio in San Francisco. This was after visiting the Walt Disney Family Museum, which was a true gem for any Disney fan, learning all about Walt's life from birth to death. Walt was a doer who transformed animation and imaginations around the world, and when we found the Yoda fountain, Yoda's famous quote of from Star Wars The Empire Strikes Back popped into my head: “Do or do not. There is no try.”

I was 14 years old when I saw The Empire Strikes Back for the first time. My sister, an old friend, and I rode our bikes to the theater to see it. I loved it. I've loved everything Star Wars since, too. George Lucas was another doer who transformed storytelling and imaginations everywhere (and now Disney keeps the magic alive). 

But doers don't have to be the most famous or transformative or successful; we all have a choice every day to do or not to do (sorry, Shakespeare). To try is a nice sentiment on the path to doing, but it's also a cop out to not commit fully in doing (thank you, Yoda).

The only way to know is to do, even if doing means failing. We couldn't know the difference otherwise and we couldn't recalibrate otherwise. When we finally changed a tire after decades of not doing (and calling roadside assistance), which again was a choice, through all the angst of the act for me, we did it. And now we can do it again. I don't want to friggin' deal with a flat tire again, but we can do it now. 

This an important distinction and one I hope our teens get. They must, because otherwise they wouldn't have tried out for theater, sang solos in choir, learned guitar, organized a student march, and so many other things, some of which we encouraged, but they ultimately chose and did. The same with me and Amy, too. It's okay not to do, that's always a choice, but to do is to know something new, and who knows where that could go.