Dreamers were brought here as children and are American as any other child having grown up in our schools, cities and communities.
I am part of humanity. My experience is that we humans are a social race. A social race in need of connection.
I find that I am happier and content when I connect with others. It seems to me that those I come in contact with also enjoy connection.
So instead of division why don’t I focus more on connection? Methinks me might need to extend a bit more energy reaching out to others rather than turning inward.
Today I contemplate focusing on reaching out. Today I contemplate looking for similarities.
Today I share with you in order that I might connect with you, someone whom I may not know well but might connect with as humanity.
Watch it. Watch it until the end.
As a young teenage boy I dreamed. I also feared.
I feared that my dream of being able to be part of the late 1970s Castro Street Gay Scene in San Fransisco wouldn’t ever come to fruition. Still I dreamed and I hoped I would be part of it one day.
The 1980s came and I came out, graduated from high school then started college. I still dreamed. Then an epidemic spread and gay men were dying. Not only dying but dropping like flies of horrific painful deaths. The AIDS epidemic had started in San Fransisco and New York. My dream dimmed, flickered and died out.
Gay society, as it had evolved, died along with the casualties of 100’s of thousands of men in the prime of their life. Or so it seemed.
Life in my hometown isolated away from the gay epicenters became safe. California was far away. I had never been and thus made no plans to go.
Later on life would take another path and California would become my home. San Fransisco and L.A would become my playgrounds just north of my San Diego home. However this post isn’t about that turn of events and eventual blessings. This post is about a lifestyle from a part of history.
My understanding of it is that in the late 1960s, before my childhood memory kicks into consistency, San Fransisco became a social experiment. It became a place of refuge, expression, dissonance, art, rebellion, experimentation and change. Born of this era the later 1970’s sexual revolution would allow gay lifestyle to flourish, especially in San Fransisco. It was this 1960s era in this enlightened place that would change minds and broaden the potential of a society that was to come.
Today I stumbled upon this historical clip. At this moment I pause, reflect and feel gratitude for those who expressed themselves. Expressed themselves not only so they could live an open honest authentic life, but that others may follow their newly emblazoned path.
Their path helped us get to where we are today. May their path also help us to continue and go to many new, better and brighter places in our future.
Never loose sight. Never stop dreaming. Don’t ever loose hope. Start by enlightening yourself, then those around yourself.
Many cities across our country and worldwide will be hosting marches this Saturday and/or Sunday January 20 & 21. Google women’s march and your city to find out the times/dates/locations of your city’s 2018 Women’s March.
Fearsome strongly encourages you to show your support and attend a march near you. Our march’s Mission is to be a Pro-Peace and Pro-Inclusivity rally. I feel pretty sure your local march has a similar mission.
No time is more important than now to stand up and speak out, especially given today’s news that gives doctors and hospitals the license to discriminate due to personal and religious beliefs. Yes the power that is currently leading Washington will now allow Doctors and Hospitals to discriminate in the provision of healthcare.
As humans we must find our strength to speak out against injustice. There is strength in numbers and strength in visibility.
“We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed. Frankly, I have yet to engage in a direct action campaign that was “well timed” in the view of those who have not suffered unduly from the disease of segregation. For years now I have heard the word “Wait!” It rings in the ear of every Negro with piercing familiarity. This “Wait” has almost always meant “Never.” We must come to see, with one of our distinguished jurists, that “justice too long delayed is justice denied.” We have waited for more than 340 years for our constitutional and God given rights. The nations of Asia and Africa are moving with jet-like speed toward gaining political independence, but we still creep at horse and buggy pace toward gaining a cup of coffee at a lunch counter. Perhaps it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging darts of segregation to say, “Wait.” But when you have seen vicious mobs lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen hate filled policemen curse, kick and even kill your black brothers and sisters; when you see the vast majority of your twenty million Negro brothers smothering in an airtight cage of poverty in the midst of an affluent society; when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your speech stammering as you seek to explain to your six-year-old daughter why she can’t go to the public amusement park that has just been advertised on television, and see tears welling up in her eyes when she is told that Funtown is closed to colored children, and see ominous clouds of inferiority beginning to form in her little mental sky, and see her beginning to distort her personality by developing an unconscious bitterness toward white people; when you have to concoct an answer for a five-year-old son who is asking: “Daddy, why do white people treat colored people so mean?”; when you take a cross county drive and find it necessary to sleep night after night in the uncomfortable corners of your automobile because no motel will accept you; when you are humiliated day in and day out by nagging signs reading “white” and “colored”; when your first name becomes “nigger,” your middle name becomes “boy” (however old you are) and your last name becomes “John,” and your wife and mother are never given the respected title “Mrs.”; when you are harried by day and haunted by night by the fact that you are a Negro, living constantly at tiptoe stance, never quite knowing what to expect next, and are plagued with inner fears and outer resentments; when you are forever fighting a degenerating sense of “nobodiness” — then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait.”
…Martin Luther King Jr …April 1963
To love thy neighbor and to serve others is grace come true.
We all are one. Let us celebrate, love and respect.
May peace and joy be yours to enjoy and share.
True freedom carries with it respect of differences. In public accommodation I must respect the freedom of others to live a different life than my own.
I practiced as a Respiratory Therapist in public medical accommodation for 20 years. In that practice I not only was required to respect different cultures, customs, politics and religions but wished to appreciate what made us human. What makes us human is differences, as well as commonalities. Humanity is empathy. Humanity is understanding. Humanity is having different experiences. Humanity is having different beliefs. Humanity is enriching each other.
I currently sell real estate. Selling real estate is a public accommodation. In this field I am required by law to respect all races, religions, beliefs, politics, sexes, sexualities, colors, practices, disabilities, abilities, politics and professions. I, by law, cannot discriminate. I also do not wish to discriminate nor exclude. I sell property to all and I relish all.
Understanding begins with me. Respect begins with me. Empathy begins with me.
I don’t have to live the life of the one I don’t agree with. I live the life I choose. I let others live their life and respect that they believe differently. I respect they have a different life experience than I do. In public accommodation I serve them.
Join me. Be human. Start right where you are.
In public accommodation enrich the canvas that is the art of humanity.
I’m making it my goal to send out one tiny ripple of hope today. May my goal be the same tomorrow.
It’s time to talk, discuss, find commonalities, evolve, move beyond, grow, understand, accept, change, embrace and mature.
Humanity is one race with many beautiful variations. Celebrate it.
These days our corporations have had to take the lead on values, morals and respect.
At this moment I’m grateful for Walmart.
I never thought I’d ever write those words. I feel at this moment in history I need to.
Today while we were distracted by all the other flying bullshit…the justice department quietly filed an amicus brief in a federal U.S. Court of appeals stating that the 1964 civil rights act DOES NOT PROTECT LGBT citizens.
Read more HERE.
By taking this stance the Department of Justice is saying that LGBTQ can be descriminated against in housing, employment, healthcare and beyond. The DOJ is saying that I can be descriminated against simply because I don’t fuck the opposite sex, that essentially I do not have any civil rights.
They are going after ALL of us and all of our civil rights. They are doing it right now. They aren’t doing it tomorrow, they are doing it now.
First it was the Muslims, then the Mexican & Central Americans and the immigrants, now the Trans and all LGBT. Who’s next? Almost everyone is next. Unless YOU take a stand for justice now you, YES YOU, are either under fire now or you are next.
After our enjoyable visit at the National Gallery it was time for our appointment at The African American History Museum.
Definately an amazing museum and wonderful addition to the Smithsonian, this museum is worth the visit. Still being the new kid on The Mall it was packed and tickets hard to come by. We enjoyed it immensely, but we will make a point to come back at a later date when it isn’t so crowded and can be enjoyed as a Museum of its caliber should be. I know they have a lot of people waiting to get in and that tickets are limited in number, but I think they could do better limiting the number of tickets issued to an even smaller number.
The Contemplative Court Waterfall Fountain was worth the trip itself alone. Overwhelming. Fearsome had some tears to catch as I began to sob. Cleansing.
Jackie Robinson is truly an inspirational man of honor. Integrating baseball was not an easy task. Jackies strength was in his own personal restraint and self discipline. Fearsome highly recommends the movie about Jackie’s life. The movie is simply “42”. Jackie is one of Fearsome’s heroes.
I fuckin’ love Macklemore
“Take them to jail. How dare they try to save their own healthcare. Why don’t they just get a job?”
Apparently senator Mitch McGreed and his staff have no use for free speech, differing opinions and for those pesky disabled people who stand to lose their healthcare.
“Off with them ” The Senator and his staff say …
If you aren’t rich Mitch McGreed, nor his staff, wants to see or hear from you. In fact if you aren’t rich they don’t give a damn about you, except for taking away your safety net so they can give it to the rich.
If you give a Fuck about yourself, your fellow humans, your children, or even the Fucking planet we live on…
Contact your senator by clicking HERE
and then click THIS to contact your congress representative
and don’t forget your governor by clicking this BUTTON
This country is no longer the leader of the free world, but just another place for the rich to park their money and look down their noses at the poor … pity.
There is no mistake that Dolly is one of my many angels.
I’ve known this since that time I first ever remember hearing her voice come from the lone single rear speaker of that AM radio in the back of my mother’s white 1967 Buick as dad drove us through darkness along the back roads of Tennessee. That night we were en-route to visit mom’s family out in cotton country along the mighty Mississippi.
Dolly was singing her ‘Jolene’ that long dark night. I can remember the warmth, care and love in her voice as if it were yesterday. I’ve loved her ever since. I know to my core she loves me too. That’s just Dolly. She is pure love.
Dolly Parton, Peace Train.
Hijabi by Mona Haydar
I needed a tissue. I have hope.
Decency: noun /di-sen-si/ behavior that is good, moral and acceptable in society.
I believe in living a good, decent and moral life. I believe in leaving behind better than I found when I leave, not only any place I go but also this life and this planet when I leave. I believe in doing good. I believe in truth, honesty and integrity. I believe in respect. I believe in kindness. I believe in sharing. I believe in caring. I believe in humility. I believe in love. I believe in helping. I believe ecology. I believe in character. I believe in education. I believe in equality. I believe in humanity. I believe in oneness. I believe in decency.
What do you believe in?