Saturday, December 6, 2014

We Can Be Better Than This


Before I get to what I want to say, let me tell you a short story.  I was born in the mid-fifties living in a small town in New England. Our town was multi-ethnic which means that, in addition to the folks like me of Irish/ French Canadian descent, we had people living there that were Italian, Polish, Greek, German and folks descended from several other European countries. However, based on my best recollection, I never had any classmates in my early days in New Hampshire that were Hispanic, Scandinavian, Asian or African American. In fact, the first black kid I ever met was a boy from New York that was part of the Fresh Air program. He was my best friend that summer of 1962. We were inseparable. His name was Jim. I obviously knew that he looked different from me but, I didn't think he was really any different because he enjoyed doing all the same things I liked to do. We climbed trees, caught frogs, played ball, rode bikes, shared Coca Colas and all the other things little boys do. At the end of the summer, when he left to go back home, I remember giving him a hug and was a little embarrassed that I cried in front of everybody.

I don't know what ever happened to Jim. But I have never forgotten him. That summer is engraved on my life. My first encounter with a black person was profound because it was just so normal and natural. A few years later, I moved as a military brat to North Carolina, then South Carolina and realized that things were different in the Carolinas than they were in New England. Forty plus years ago, I landed in Georgia where I live still.

I am a white male born during the baby boomer generation. I am part of the most powerful and influential group of people in the United States today. I don't know what it is like to be in the minority except for those times when I have gone to a foreign country. In America, I’m it. So my perspective on things comes from that reality. I see the world and am seen by the world as not female, not black, not Hispanic, not poor, not all the other things that I am not.

I have never been made to feel different because, for my entire life, I was not different. People that look like me were, and still are, in charge. I'm a man and I’m white. I don't have to provide a history lesson on how our society has treated and considered women in general and people that are not white. The short answer is…differently. Sure, things have changed a lot. Today we say that women are treated equally. We say that people that are not white are treated equally. That’s what we say. And we have said it enough that we believe it. Even when the reality doesn't match the declaration.

When we visited our daughter and son-in-law in Korea I got a small taste of what it feels like to be different. Everyone around us looked Korean (of course) and… different than us. They talked differently. Their habits and customs are different. Some Korean, especially older ones, gave us unwelcome looks on the sidewalks and subway. I wondered what they thought of us. Don't get me wrong; we met many, many friendly Koreans. But what I remember were the looks from those that seemed to not want us there. I got a small taste of what it must be like to be “different”... not in the majority.

My wife remembers being a little girl going downtown with her sister on the city bus with their maid, Louise. Louise was black. The girls always wanted to sit up front and would beg Louise to let them sit there. Louise would tell them that the seats were so much better at the back of the bus and she would walk them back there. She never told them that she wasn't allowed to sit at the front. She just told the little girls in her care that the seats were better at the back of the bus. Different.

Think for a moment what it might be like to be black in America… you are only about 12% of the US population. 88% of America is different than you…76% of what you see are white people, almost half of which are male. Most positions of power and influence are held by white males. 75% of the Senate members are white men, twice the percentage as their population. In the House of Representatives, the percent of white males drops a little to 70%. But, after all… it is the people’s House. But mostly white, male people.

Things are not so good these days. People are marching in the streets all across our country because of recent incidents with police and decisions made by grand juries in Missouri and New York City. Blacks are upset. I understand why. I can probably cite statistics that would suggest that police are justified in their handling of confrontations with blacks since we know that blacks, after all, kill each other at alarming rates and commit crimes at a higher rate than their population would suggest. I could say that people shouldn’t resist arrest or they'll have what’s coming to them. That would be the easy but inappropriate response.

If your wife tells you that a certain attitude or behavior of yours hurts her feelings, you can argue til the cows come home that she shouldn't feel that way because that is not your intention. You can tell her that she should get over it. But that doesn't change how she feels. In fact, that response makes the hurt even worse.

When black people say that they feel like the police, the justice system and authorities treat them differently (more severely and with an assumption of guilt) than they do whites, we can say that it is not true…that is not the intent of the police and others…. that the evidence doesn't match their concern. But that ignores the reality of how many black people feel. And that makes it even worse. We disregard their concerns. We argue and cite statistics. We tell them how many black people kill white cops. Or how many black cops kill white people and how you don’t see people getting all outraged about that. But that misses the point. And it helps nothing.


I wish we could block out all the noise and shouts of racism and just start having some frank, honest, respectful conversations about what we all believe and feel. Talk about what we each see as problems and what we think needs to change. We have to get off the defensive. We have to start treating one another better. We need a change of heart. Early in this blog I told you that I am middle aged, that I am a man, and that I am white. But that isn't my most significant identifier. My bible tells me that I am made in the image of God. That each of us is made in God’s image. I am a child of God and so are you. I need to start behaving that way. And so do you.

Monday, November 3, 2014

Are You Part of a Famous Family?

Martin Luther King, Jr.
Henry Ford
Teddy Roosevelt
William Rockefeller

Cornelius Vanderbilt
Do you ever wonder what it is like to be closely related to a very famous person? I don't mean famous in the smaller sense, I mean famous as in being written about in history books and having documentaries and even movies made about you. Do you ever think about what it was like being the son or daughter of a Vanderbilt or Roosevelt or Rockefeller? What if you were related to Martin Luther King or Henry Ford or Bill Gates?

Bill Gates
Let’s say the famous person was your grandfather and he was an important part of your life for many years… in fact, he is still alive today and he is still an important part of your life. As you matured, you were able to get to know him as more than just a relative or a famous someone that others had heard about…you are able to spend time talking with your grandfather and learning more and more about him. Your grandfather shared things with you that have helped you navigate your life and you know deep in the deepest part of your heart how much you love him and how much you are loved by him. Even though he is extremely well known and famous, to you he is almost like your closest friend and you know that you are a very important part of his very large family. You are aware that his fame came with sacrifice to himself personally but, he was willing to do it because he knew that the people that came after him would benefit from what he did.

I often wonder how people that are related to very famous people talk about them when people inquire. If someone asked about your famous grandfather, would your first inclination be to recite the many things written about him in the history books? Would you describe his accomplishments and talk about what he has done? Or would you just tell them who your grandfather is to you and share what an incredible influence he has had on you and in your life? Would you talk about his nature and tell about the reasons that you love him so much. Would you describe what it is like to be a part of his family? I wonder. See, I think people that are closely related to famous people see them not necessarily as others see them…not the way the writers of history books and movies see them. They know them intimately.

I don't know about you but I don't have any famous people in my family. You won’t read the name Toomey in any history books. The only “famous” Toomeys I know are/ were Regis Toomey (an actor), Bill Toomey (won the decathlon in the 1968 Olympics), and Pat Toomey (a politician in Pennsylvania.) So the hypothetical question I have posed is not one that I have ever had to address.

But, you know what? I am related to a famous person, written about in history books, portrayed in movies and known the world over. His name is Jesus. And I am a part of His family.


When I talk to others about Jesus do I recite what has been written about Him in history books or do I tell people about the relationship I have and the incredible influence He has made in my life? Are you related to anyone famous?

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Futbol and Football



Football?
Football?
Tomorrow morning, the United States soccer team plays Germany. The outcome will determine if one or both of these teams advance to the round of 16 in the World Cup. There will be many Americans glued to their televisions to watch the match. There will also be many Americans that couldn't care less that there is even a sport called soccer.

In most of the world, when you say "football or futbol" they know that you are referring to the sport of soccer. In America, when you say "football," people think of that game played with helmets and shoulder pads on fields with a 50 yard line and goalposts. Every sports fan in America recognizes the names Joe Namath,  Johnny Unitis, Tom Brady and Peyton Manning. Significantly fewer know (or care) who Pele or Diego Maradona or Neymar or Christiano Ronaldo are.

Regardless, the World Cup is an international sensation. Soccer fans are some of the most obsessed sports fans there are. Correct that...THE most obsessed sports fans. They LOVE their sport.

There is truly no way to compare American football to association football (soccer.) They are completely different games. There are many who describe watching a soccer match to watching paint dry. They don't get what all the fuss is about. Many of the World Cup matches will end 0-0 (that's nil-nil in soccer-speak.) How can you play a 90 minute match and it end in a tie (that's a draw in soccer-speak) they ask. Are you kidding me? Run around for 90 minutes and nobody scores? You find this interesting or exciting?

Another criticism of soccer is all the feigning of injury (called diving in soccer-speak...called "simulation" by FIFA.) I would imagine that rugby players, in particular, get greatly annoyed when watching soccer. Oh look, he was tripped and is writhing around in pain as if he was hit by a truck (rugby players actually do hit you like a truck.) Quite frankly, everyone who watches soccer finds all the diving annoying. Don't blame the sport...blame the players.

Look, soccer isn't American football and it certainly isn't rugby. They are completely different sports. It is not fair to compare them. And enough of the complaints about low or no scoring games. Ever watch a baseball game (America's pastime) that is 0-0 after 9 innings? Don't whine to me about games that can be slow or boring. Soccer isn't the only sport where that can happen.

Here's the thing about soccer. It truly is the world's game. I mean, there is even a team from Algeria...and Ecuador. Not so with football, or baseball, or basketball. Just soccer. And that's why many Americans don't like it. Americans don't dominate soccer like we do the other sports I mentioned. It's not American born and bred.

I watch (and enjoy) soccer once every four years...just like the Olympics. How often do you watch bobsled racing or pole vaulting, or curling, or giant slalom? But you did watch it during the summer or winter games didn't you? As did the whole world. Like I said, the World Cup is a big deal. For a brief moment, the world changes its focus from all the junk going on to watch a team from Iran play a game against a team from Bosnia and Herzegovina (that's one country, not two.) By the way, Bosnia and Herzegovina won 3-1.

Let's be clear though. Come September, this guy will be watching college and professional football every weekend. Maybe I will get lucky and score some tickets to watch my Georgia Bulldogs (that's Dawgs in Georgia-speak) at beautiful Sanford Stadium. But I am perfectly comfortable loving that great sport played every autumn as well as my enjoyment of watching the World Cup. Go Dawgs! Ole Ole Ole!






Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Father's Day and Saving Private Ryan


I was watching the news a week or so ago and they were talking about the difference in the way that Mother's Day and Father's Day are celebrated...basically suggesting that Dads get shortchanged when compared to the phone calls made, flowers and gifts given, and family get togethers that occur on Mother's Day. Dads don't seem to complain though... my experience is that guys aren't really that hard to please.

I enjoy Father's Day because it reminds me of how blessed I am to have the family I have....a wife that loves me, two wonderful adult children and a great son-in-law. I also enjoyed a great lunch, feasting on a medium-rare, 20-oz. bone-in ribeye, baked potato, salad with bleu cheese dressing and steaming yeast rolls. I was only able to eat half my steak and potato at lunch which meant that I was able to enjoy the leftovers later that night. Yum.

Sunday afternoons frequently include a nap after I get home from church and lunch. On Father's Day I decided to watch a couple of movies in lieu of a nap (actually, I think I did both.) I am a big WWII movie fan so I pulled out "Patton" and "Saving Private Ryan" from my modest Blu-Ray collection. I think part of the reason I love watching these war movies is because it reminds me of the generation for whom I have so much admiration and respect. Growing up, the WWII veterans were such an integral part of the town in which I lived. They were the people in my community that I looked up to.

My dad served in the Navy although I don't think he saw much action during the war. His first cousin was also in the Navy and was killed when the ship on which he served was torpedoed and sunk in the Pacific. My dad died almost fourteen years ago and, although our time together when I was growing up was limited due to my parent's divorce when I was young, the times I had with him when I was a kid and as an adult remain precious memories. I miss him. Especially on Father's Day.

I often think about my role as a dad and wonder how my kids will remember me when I'm gone. I know I have made so many mistakes but, my earnest desire is and has always been to be a good dad.

"Saving Private Ryan" is one of my favorite movies. There are so many powerful scenes in that movie but, there are a couple, aside from the intense battle scenes, that seem to hit me right in the heart. I think most everyone has seen this movie so, I don't think I need to issue a spoiler alert.

The movie opens with a modern-day scene in the U.S Military Cemetery at Ste. Laurent-sur-Mer, France with an old man (presumed to be a WWII veteran) walking amongst the white marble grave markers...mostly crosses and stars of David. At the opening of the movie, we are not sure who this character is. We learn a little later in the movie that Private James Francis Ryan has lost all four of his brothers in battle and Army Chief of Staff General George C. Marshall issues orders for eight men from the 2nd Rangers, who have just survived the D-Day landing at Omaha Beach, to find Ryan and get him safely back home. But no one knows exactly where he is.

At the latter part of the movie, after Captain John Miller (played by Tom Hanks) has been fatally shot, he pulls Private Ryan (played by Matt Damon) close and whispers in a weak voice "James- Earn this...Earn it." Men have risked and lost their lives trying to find and escort Private Ryan to safety so he can return home and live his life. Captain Miller is telling Ryan to live a life worthy of the men who paid such a high price to rescue him.

The ending scene goes back to where we were in the opening scene. The gentleman, who we now know to be the old man-James Ryan, is there to find the grave of Captain Miller...the one who led the men who risked and lost lives so that he could live. He is very emotional and his wife comes up to his side. Ryan turns to his wife and says, "Tell me I've led a good life." "Tell me I'm a good man." I don't know how a husband and father can watch that scene and not be moved.

Ending scenes

I watched this movie on purpose on Father's Day. Because, as a dad (and husband,) the same desire and reassurance that James Ryan was seeking at the end of the movie, I seek. I want to know that I have led a good life. I want to be a good man. I want to be a good dad. And I want to live a life worthy of the sacrifice that was made for me. And made for you, for that matter.

Monday, February 10, 2014

She loves you (yeah, yeah, yeah!)


50 years ago last night, the Beatles debuted on the Ed Sullivan Show and 73 million people tuned in to hear the Fab Four sing their sensational music that had exploded onto the American music scene. I was 8 years old and glued to our black and white Philco television set, mesmerized by this new sound and look.

Last night, several of my friends on Facebook were commenting on the Grammys' 50th Anniversary Tribute to the Beatles that was televised on CBS. I was torn between watching Olympic figure skating or watching some of today's most talented musicians pay tribute to Paul and Ringo, the surviving members of The Beatles, as well as paying tribute and acknowledging the incredible contributions of John and George. It was a great night to reminisce. But not everyone that grew up during that time were Beatles' fans. Some preferred other bands or musicians of that day while others may not have been really into music much during that time in their lives. Fan or not, I am sure that the contribution that The Beatles made to modern pop music is acknowledged nonetheless.

I wrote a blog a couple of years ago soon after Don Cornelius of "Soul Train" fame had, sadly, died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound. I wrote then:

Music is an incredibly powerful thing. Every culture has music traditions and, just in my lifetime, I have witnessed the way that music can influence the world around us.

The segregated American society that made up a large part of the 20th century is an historical fact, painful though it is to be reminded of. But there has been one thing that seems to have transcended the racial divide that existed and, in some ways, still exists today...and that is music. From the white, Celtic-influenced Appalachian music that birthed bluegrass, rockabilly, and country music....to the gospel music sung in rural churches, to the black, rhythm and blues music from the Delta, Memphis, St. Louis, Chicago and Detroit...the combination of all which birthed what we call Rock and Roll music. The soul music sound of African-American Detroit artists, on Barry Gordy's Motown Records kept the dance halls rocking and swaying to some incredible music and vocal harmonies.

The older, white generation didn't embrace much of this music...sometimes because it was just so different from the music they enjoyed but also because of racial prejudice. Sadly, many included the "N-word" in describing this new music. But for the younger Baby Boomer generation, I believe the blending of these musical genres and the appreciation for and enjoyment of these new musical sounds went a long way in bridging the racial divide.

As a white kid that loved the likes of Elvis, Carl Perkins, Jerry Lee Lewis, Roy Orbison, and the Everly Brothers; I also loved the sounds of the Coasters, the Drifters, Sam and Dave, Ray Charles, James Brown, The Four Tops, The Temptations, The Supremes, Wilson Pickett, and Marvin Gaye. And just when rock and roll seemed to be losing its way, along came the mid-60's British invasion of the Beatles, Rolling Stones, Dave Clark Five, The Animals, The Kinks and dozens of others that had listened to all that America had blended together musically, and reintroduced it to us.


Whether or not The Beatles were your favorite band in the 60's matters not. Like other forms of art and food and fragrance, we all have our personal preferences. Thank goodness we have so much to choose from. I enjoyed last night because it brought back a flood of great memories. Thank you John, Paul, George and Ringo. 

Oh, and my favorite Beatles song? That's a very tough one. There are too many to list but two songs have likely had more plays on my iPod than the others- "No reply" and "I don't want to spoil the party" (and they are both from the Beatles- For Sale album.) What is your favorite?