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Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Hate, What Is True Hate?

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I was recently asked, "Don't you hate having to deal with these horrible medical issues?  I bet you hate the doctors for not making this better!"  (See Someone Asked Me Today How I Deal With...)

What is True Hate?

I certainly don't hate my doctors.  I've seen or am still seeing wonderful doctors who I believe truly want to solve this medical mystery.  How can you hate someone for trying, even if they aren't able to succeed?  (See You Should Have Demanded... Part One)

Do I hate my medical issue?  Well, I'm not sure I hate it, however, I certainly dislike it.  (See Dealing With The Issues Associated With Hashimoto's Disease)

I never understood hate.  I never felt hate.  And then... I learned.  I understand now what real hate is. I can honestly say, I hate only one person on this planet and for good reason.

I always thought that when people said "you make me sick" they were simply referring to an expression.  I've since learned, it's more than that.  I can honestly say that the sight of someone literally does make me sick to my stomach, that I can't even stand looking at the person, that the sound of the voice, the sight of the face, seeing the stance, their ways, the attitude, all actually make me sick.  I never thought I could feel hate, but, I now know, hate is real, sadly.

Feeling hate brings on a lot of anxiety.  It's a horrible feeling, but one we can't control.  The same as we can't help loving, we can't help hating.  I'm happy to say there's so many more that I love.  There's only one I despise.

Why do I hate?  I have very good reason.  The person brought it on themselves.  They made themselves hated by their actions.  Sadly, I'm not the only person to feel hate for this person and I find that very sad.  It's so sad that someone can be so disgusting as to make others hate them.

Do I hate a disease?  Well, I can say, I hate cancer.  I feel the same hatred for cancer that I do for that one person on the planet.  In my opinion, cancer and the person are equal, they both attempt to destroy someone slowly.  Some are lucky, they fight back and win.  Some aren't so lucky.  They fight hard, but lose.

There's a difference in truly hating someone or something due to reality, the bad things it causes and hating or thinking you hate simply by what you imagine.  I was once "hated" online.  The reality of it was, these people didn't even KNOW me and refused to meet me or even speak to me.  Their agenda was simply to attack me.

The reality of it was, these people didn't hate ME, they hated what they IMAGINED me to be, what they themselves made me, which is nothing close to the real me.  They also "hated" the fact that I was confident, couldn't be intimidated, and unlike them wasn't afraid to show my face or sign my name.

They "hated" me even more when I would hit the nail on the head and call them out on their own ridiculous behaviour.  I was guilty of one thing, having my own opinion and sticking to it and not backing down.  If they "hated" me for that, well, that's their problem, not mine.  Obviously, I was intimidating.

They invented a character in their own minds by misunderstanding my words, twisting my words, taking my words out of context, and even lying about me and then exclaimed how much they HATED a person they refused to really get to know.  That's not hate.  In reality, that's insanity.

Me - no reason to hide.

These people didn't truly hate me, they were exasperated, frustrated, insecure, ignorant and also felt powerful in a pack and while hiding behind a computer.  They behaved so badly, did nonsensical things, immature things all in the name of attempting to insult me or hurt me and convinced themselves I cared and they "got me."  They even went so far as to pick on a young, terminal cancer patient.  How disgusting is that? The thing is, I'm still here, I'm still showing my face, I'm still signing my name, they are all in hiding.

I was even given an ultimatum once.  Someone actually threatened me saying I had 24 hours to take something off my blog.  MY BLOG!  Yes, I laughed too.  This woman actually had the audacity to tell me such a thing and thought I'd actually comply.  No.  What I did was make my own phone calls, to the place she threatened to call. and found out that what I was doing was actually appreciated.

The story I wrote about on my old blog was all over the media. The people who the story was about asked people to share their story.  Many blogs, newspapers, magazines, and television stations did just that and so did I.  Only, in this person's mind, I wasn't allowed to so she felt the need to give me an ultimatum thinking she was scaring me.

Do I hate this group of "mean people."  Nah.  I pitied them.  I laughed at them.  But I never hated them.

Hate causes way too much anxiety.  I hate cancer. I hate one person on this planet. As for the person, I avoid as much as possible and when I HAVE to deal with that person, UGH, I get through the situation just to get done with what I must get done.   As for cancer, well, if it finds us, we deal.  It found my family way too many times, and it's taken loved ones from us, young and old, but not without a darn good fight.

I've always LOVED pink roses!

You need to be tougher than hate, stronger than hate.  I have much more love in my life, I love many more people, pets and things that I ever could possibly hate.  I'm blessed.

So, no, I don't HATE my doctors and I don't HATE these crazy medical issues.  It all causes me severe anxiety, it certainly limits my life, but I choose to be positive, think of the pros and not the cons.  (See Pros And Cons)

To follow my story: (See Someone Asked Me Today How I Deal With...)


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Sunday, September 17, 2017

White Privilege

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I believe in equal opportunity wholeheartedly.  I feel everyone should have the same privilege my “white" family had.  And you can, we did it, you can too!

My grandparents had the privilege of being first generation here.They felt honored to go to school, though I do not believe any of them graduated.  None had the privilege of going to college; they had to work to help support the family. 

They all had the privilege of working very hard in the “new country” from young kids.  Their parents didn’t speak the language, English, however, my grandparents had the privilege of knowing TWO language, Italian and English. Today, people get paid a lot of money for being bilingual, back then, it was just something they knew. 

As adults, they had the privilege to work really hard in menial jobs such as at a soda factory, a garment factory (maternal grandparents), a doily factory and as a janitor (paternal grandparents).  They walked long distances to subways, worked in some pretty undesirable neighborhoods, but they never complained. 

All my memories of all four grandparents were of them being HAPPY.  I lived my life with two of them and saw the other two every Sunday and often for weeks at a time in the summer.  I remember them singing, playing jokes, laughing, and simply being HAPPY and FUN to be around. 

They had the privilege of living in Brooklyn, New York.  They didn’t live in luxury, but they took pride in their homes, they respected their neighborhoods and the people in them.

They had the privilege, as did most of the Italian immigrant families, of dealing with prejudice, yet they never complained, they were way too busy working sometimes 10 hour days, six days a week. 
They didn’t have the privilege of any type of social services, therefore, they had no choice but to earn money any way they could, legally, by working hard. 

They had the privilege, along with immigrants from other nations, of helping to build the great city they lived in, the things we take for granted today, subways, bridges, historical buildings, roadways, etc.

Did some immigrants do illegal things, yes, they did.  There’s good and bad everywhere.  However, when they were caught, the cops kicked their butts.  They didn’t have the privilege of going home crying to mommy and daddy, because they feared a worse butt kicking from them.  If they served time, they knew they deserved it. 

They had the privilege of falling in love and getting married and the privilege of  having healthy children. They had the privilege of teaching their children to respect authority, respect others, and respect themselves.

My parents both lived on the same block in Brooklyn.  That's how they met.

My dad had the privilege of getting up at the crack of dawn and going to work at 10 years old, maybe younger, with his uncle dong manual labor all day.  That was a huge privilege, he’s 77 years old today and the lessons he learned working on homes not only served him well when he bought his own home, but saved him countless dollars because he knew how to do it himself, he didn’t have to pay for labor.

Later on, by age 14 or 16, he had the privilege of delivering goods and the privilege of carrying very heavy packages, including ice blocks, up three flights of stairs.  Not only did he earn money, but it kept him in shape physically.  

My dad wasn’t a bad kid, never arrested, never in trouble, but he was the typical 50’s kid.  That meant they did mischievous things they shouldn’t have done.  The Irish cops in the neighborhood weren’t fond of the Italian kids, a well-known fact documented in the history books, many historical documentaries and movies and lived by my dad and his friends.  They got their asses kicked by the cops, but they never complained.  As my dad says even today, we deserved it.  And they didn’t tell their parents, because they would have had the privilege of another ass-kicking at home. 

My mom had the privilege of walking to school, many blocks, as did my dad, in all weather.  They walked on steamy hot days, on freezing cold days, in the rain, in the snow, uphill, both ways... just kidding.  But they did walk, and far, and they did it without complaint.  

They had the privilege of taking buses and subways alone (meaning just with friends their age group – no parents) while still in elementary school, to do things such as errands for the family or to have fun with friends.  Mommy and daddy weren’t available to drive them, most didn’t have cars.

My mom had the privilege of coming home from school herself at age nine and taking care of the house for when her parents returned from work.  My aunt, dad's sister, had that same privilege; she cooked, cleaned, mopped floors, etc. all at nine years old.  No one worried about the “trouble” the kids would get into at home alone, they were too busy and too responsible to get into trouble.

Embed from Getty Images 

My dad had the privilege of getting a job at 18 years old in the Wall Street area.  He started pushing carts of cards. He had the privilege of working his ass off and that privilege was noticed by the older adults in higher positions.

He had the privilege of competition as a kid, not everyone was going to win the game, no parents were there to argue over anything.  He had the privilege of learning life lessons playing stickball and other games in the street.  Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, that’s called life.  That privilege came in handy in the real world when he started pushing carts for a living.

He had the privilege of working hard and being proud of his accomplishments.  He wasn’t handed a job until he was qualified to actually do the job, the MOST qualified person to do that job.  His religion, gender and skin color weren’t taken into consideration, there were no quotas companies had to fill, he was given the promotions and authority because he DESERVED it and EARNED it. 

Sometimes he felt discrimination, it made him work harder.  He didn’t whine, he didn’t have time to march anywhere with signs, he was too busy working.

He had the privilege of taking advantage of education on the job.  He had the privilege of getting up daily at 4:30 a.m. and not arriving home until 6:30 p.m. and that’s only when he wasn’t working overtime and weekends. 

My family lived in Williamsburg, Brooklyn until 1961.  They would have stayed there, but they couldn't.  The neighborhood started to get dangerous.  Undesirable people, who did bad things, started to take over the neighborhood which was mostly filled with Polish, Italian, Irish and Jewish Immigrants.  What many popular movies today DON'T depict is WHY people appeared to be prejudice.  You see, my dad had friends of all nationalities, religions and skin colors.  If you were a great person, nice and law-abiding, that's all that mattered. 

However, movies love to show "white" people being "prejudice" and depict it as if they have no reason.  My parents and grandparents LIVED it and had GOOD reason to be upset.  They disliked certain PEOPLE not entire races.  They disliked the people who came into the neighborhood, didn't take care of it, let it go to ruin, robbed the businesses, robbed the homes, mugged teenage girls, and more.  They disliked ANY people who did that. 

If a gang of three-foot green people with purple hair robbed 13 homes on your block in the past week and held up four business owners at gun point, what will your reaction be if you see a three-foot green person with purple hair riding their bike in your neighborhood?  EVERYONE will become suspicious and EVERYONE will not want them there, thinking they are up to no good, staking out the neighborhood, causing trouble.  If you say any different, you are completely full of crap. 

If a rapist is going around a specific area and the description is 6'2", thin, blond hair, light skinned, wearing a baseball cap, and a blue jacket, any woman seeing a man fitting that description is going to be hesitant and suspicious.  WE ALL KNOW NOT ALL MEN FITTING THAT DESCRIPTION ARE RAPISTS, but... we will ALL be suspicious of EVERY man we see fitting that description, you know it, I know it.  If we see a man like that walking down our street, we will lock our doors, possibly call the police, possibly people will confront him asking questions - why is he in the area, what business does he have there, etc.  

When my son was in first grade, I would drive him to elementary school daily.  We were early, so I'd drive through a neighborhood right next to the school and show him the huge homes. We would admire the pretty landscaping, the architecture, the colors the homes were painted, etc.  I love that stuff.  I did this daily for about a week.  

I was WHITE, my son was WHITE, the homeowners were of mixed races, religions, etc.  I was driving a nice car, brand new, we were dressed nicely, etc.  And yet... an Asian man stopped me one morning. He asked why I was driving there daily very slowly at the same time each morning, pointing at homes.  I didn't scream RACIAL PROFILING, I didn't WHINE, I wasn't offended.  I explained to him what I was doing and was respectful and polite as was he.  He told me several neighbors noticed me each morning, had all talked to one another and thought I was staking out their neighborhood.  They had actually warned the police and someone wrote down my license plate! KUDOS TO THEM. 

Now, over 50 years later, Williamsburg, Brooklyn is a hot spot, a desireable neighborhood again. And... the people living there now have the NERVE to say, "They left us a mess."  WHAT?  No, dear, we didn't leave you a mess, we RAN from the mess that was becoming Williamsburg.  From the early 1960's until the 2010's, Williamsburg was like a warzone in many areas and not the least bit desirable. Had derelicts not come in and destroyed (and remember I'm not mentioning race, skin color, religion, nationality, gender) we would STILL live there today.  I would have been raised there.  

CLICK VIDEO  My parents went to this feast yearly when they lived in Brooklyn and often took us when we were small.  We took our kids with my parents in the late 80's when things weren't as bad as they were in the 60's and 70's. 

My parents had the privilege of meeting when mom was 15 and dad was 17.  They had the privilege of marrying when mom was 19 and dad was 21 and they had the privilege of becoming parents when mom was 21 and dad was 23, that was me, their firstborn.

They never referred to themselves or their friends or anyone their age as kids nor did anyone else.  They were proud to be adults.  Today I hear 30-year-old people referring to their friends as “that crazy kid”.  Kid, what kid? I thought a 30-year-old was a man!  I hear people exclaim about a 25-year-old woman, “oh, she’s just a baby, plenty of time to marry.”  A baby at 25?  No one said anyone needs to rush into marriage, but a 25-year-old woman being referred to as a baby is absurd.   

our house when we first moved in
I was privileged too!  By the time we moved into the home my parents still live in, because my dad worked his butt off, he was making a good salary.

But like my grandparents and parents, I had the privilege of being made to be responsible, have respect and pay the consequences for my own actions.  My siblings and all our kids had that same privilege.

my two grandmother's both now deceased.  I still miss them terribly.
I had the privilege of knowing all four grandparents, having a relationship with them and learning from them.  I learned about family history, their life stories and how to do things they knew how to do.  I had the privilege of making homemade pasta and canning sauce with my grandmother from when I was about five.  My mom now has the privilege, as do her grandkids, of baking and cooking together.

our yard prior to the pool being put in, it was very hilly, they did a lot of moving of earth to put in that pool.  That's one of our many dogs.
When I was young, my parents could have handed us things, but being we had such privilege, as did they, they didn’t want to break tradition.  You see, my dad worked sometimes seven days a week for a month straight so it was my privilege and my siblings’ privilege to do what dad was too busy to do. We had the privilege of mowing the lawn on a hot, sunny day.  When we moved here, there was no built in pool at first, no trees, just a huge piece of land and we had the privilege and honor of taking turns caring for it.

My siblings and I had the privilege of cleaning up after dinner every night and feeding the many pets.  We had the privilege of cleaning the house on weekends.  Now… trust me, mom had the privilege of working sun up to sun down daily, doing… well EVERYTHING it took to run a household of many people and many pets. 

We had the privilege of having to take turns doing things, which meant we all learned how to clean the bathroom, how to vacuum correctly, how to dust and polish furniture, etc. 

We had the privilege of learning to work as a team and the privilege of learning to make good business deals.  I hated to mow the lawn, my sister hated to be inside, so we made a business decision at ages 12 and 9.  Yes at 9 she mowed the entire property and at 12 I cleaned all the bathrooms (there's three in the house alone) and vacuumed and dusted and did whatever else mom wanted.  

I had the privilege of taking care of my youngest sister some nights, which meant giving her a bath, putting her in pajamas and just being a little “mommy.”  Nope, she wasn’t my kid, but that privilege allowed us to form a bond and the memories I have of sitting her on my lap after her bath and telling her stories as I dried and dressed her are priceless.  Doing that helped me when I had my own kids.

I was once told that kids should be allowed to be kids.  Hmmmmm.  Well, let’s see, today I hear kids whining, complaining, being disrespectful, being unappreciative, saying they are bored, and they are offended and insulted at everyone and everything. They don’t know how to play in groups and they have no idea how to all get along. They take no responsibility, think certain jobs are beneath them, and think the world revolves around their every want and need, never mind the instant gratification they want at every turn.  That does NOT sound like a happy childhood.

My parents had all that privilege and today, at 74 and 77, they still talk about their happy childhoods with fond memories, a sparkle in their eye and laughter. 

At 12 I had to privilege of walking into the kitchen one day and my mom telling me she signed me up for a babysitting course at the local fire department.  I wasn’t asked if I wanted to go, I was told I was signed up. I was expected to go and I went, no complaints allowed. I had the privilege of being taught many things for free, or maybe a minimal fee, I’m not sure.  I then started babysitting at age 12 allowing me the privilege of earning my own money.  I’ve earned my own money from that day on. 

I had the privilege of remembering what I was taught in that babysitting class and using it when I was in my 20’s and my nephew was choking on a marble that no one knew he had or how he had gotten a hold of. 

At age 16 I had the privilege of getting my first job as a waitress and in the summer I had the privilege of working in New York City for my dad’s company, the same company he started pushing carts for when he was 18.  When I started working there in the summers, he was then in a high position in the computer department of the brokerage house.

My sisters all had the same privileges I did.  They all babysat from age 12, my one sister had the privilege of setting her alarm daily all summer long.  She had to be on time early in the morning to babysit.  She watched the child of two working parents. 

I had the privilege of the gift of a car at age 16 from my parents.  I was told how “spoiled” I was and how my parents just handed me a car.  No… they gave me a gift, mostly because they wanted ME behind the wheel, they trusted ME.   They didn’t want me in cars with others.  What no one knew was that I had to pay the insurance, the gas, the inspections, etc. They did the same for my sisters and the same rules applied.  If we wanted the privilege of having our own cars, we also had to take on the responsibility.

I had the privilege of mom or dad never feeling sorry for us.  That privilege taught us that if we felt something wasn’t right, we got out of the situation, we didn’t whine, we didn’t blame everyone else; we simply worked harder and did better.

I had the privilege of learning how to deal with the public from when I was 16 years old.  I had the privilege of learning not everyone is a nice person, and that’s on them, not me, and I’m not going to change them, I can only control me.

I had the privilege of being taught to never care what anyone else thinks and it has served me well through life.

I had the privilege of being spanked (not abused, spanked) on occasion, being punished, being spoken to sternly and being told it was MY FAULT, not the teacher’s fault, the neighbor’s fault, the color of my skin, the color of my eyes, the dog’s fault.  It was MY fault and I learned from it. 

I had the privilege of being told “I taught you right from wrong, if you do wrong, you are on your own, I don’t bail anyone out.”  And my parents didn’t bail us out, no I don’t mean jail, though if that happened, they weren’t doing that either.  But there were no bail outs, mommy and daddy didn’t make it all better and all go away.  We all had the privilege of facing the consequences and taking responsibility. 

I had the privilege of growing up in a home that was like the United Nations and still is.  Everyone is welcome, unless they give us a reason not to welcome them.  Everyone is treated as an individual. If I don’t like you, it has nothing to do with your gender, your ethnicity, your religion, your sexual orientation, your race, your political beliefs, the color of your shirt, your shoe size or your dog’s name.  If I don’t like you, it’s because I don’t like WHO YOU ARE.  It’s rare I don’t like someone, so if I don’t like you, YOU are probably not a very nice person.

I had the privilege of speaking out against wrong and doing it legally and properly. If I’m speaking out against something, again, it has nothing to do with your gender, your ethnicity, your religion, your sexual orientation, your race, your political beliefs, the color of your shirt, your shoe size or your dog’s name.  It does have to do with the fact that it’s WRONG.  It’s WRONG to have 26 illegal immigrants of ANY race living in one home in ANY neighborhood, destroying the home and the neighborhood, causing fire hazards and jeopardizing the safety of themselves and those around them. 

I have the privilege of realizing that no matter what name you decide to call something it doesn’t change the facts.  You can change the name 10 times and it is still the same thing. People may have been brainwashed into thinking the word retard is some horrific, terrible word, so now kids are told to NEVER say it.  

So, instead they use another word if they want to joke around or insult someone.  Society can change names of things to fool themselves.  It doesn't stop anything.  I was recently chatting with a teen who told me there's a cafe in their school run by special needs kids. 

The kids refer to it as "The Chromosome Cafe".  Not in front of them.  There's also insult jokes to one another "you are special, VERY special."  That has replaced "you are such a retard." Same insult joke, different words. 

I have the privilege of being proud of who and what I am.  I am not insulted when I hear the term white trash, because I know it has nothing to do with me.  If someone uses the word Guinea, I couldn’t care less, it doesn’t pertain to me.  I had the privilege of being taught to be strong, confident and to never pay mind to what others think.   Why give people such power?  You and you alone control how you feel.  All this privilege is what keeps me strong today, dealing with all my current medical issues.  (See What Is Gephyrophobia?)

I had the privilege of going on an interview at age 20 for a position in a law firm. The person interviewing me was in his late 60’s and he was a Judge.  I had the privilege of him saying to me “why should I hire you, you will just get married and pregnant and quit.”  Yes… as recently as when I was age 20, people still said that to people’s faces. No it wasn’t legal then and I’m sure he knew it, but he obviously didn’t care.  He knew he had the power and there will always be power-hungry people out there. I didn’t whine, I didn’t complain, I just said to myself, there are idiots in this world, sometimes these idiots have high positions, I wouldn’t work for this idiot if he paid me one million a year.  I blamed him, not me, and I went out and interviewed for more jobs and then had the privilege of CHOOSING from three offers. (See Getting a Job Then and Now)

My siblings and I gave our kids the very same privileges my family has always had.  My daughter and niece had the privilege of starting out sweeping floors, by age 12, in the business my sister owned.  They graduated up to other responsibilities. My nephew worked at age 12 with his dad in his construction business.  By age 14, both my children worked in McDonalds.

Sadly, today, it’s not the norm for kids to be told to get a job.  When I was young, we were expected to work and keep up our grades and we did! It’s not that difficult, trust me.  I expected the same from my kids and they did it. Considering they both went to college, were honors students and my one child is in a Master's Program and the other starting one soon, I'd say working didn't do them any harm. (See Is Society Raising A Bunch Of Pansies?)

My son once came to me and said “you know mom, I’m the only one of my friends who has to work.”  My response, “what a privilege, when you go out into the work force after school, you will be so far ahead of them, you will get the job due to all your experience.” 

My niece had the privilege of CHOOSING to go into the medical field.  She had the privilege of school loans, working while going to school, missing family events to study, missing things her friends were doing, skipping vacations all her friends were going on, showing up late to family events and sneaking upstairs into the office to study after dinner.  She also had the privilege of making Valedictorian, getting into one of the best medical schools and now she has the privilege of working in the medical field. 

Apparently, all the privilege my white children had (my kids and nieces and nephews) has paid off.  They all  had the privilege of working their butts off, and as adults, (four of them, two are in their teens still) they are far ahead of others in their age group.  I couldn’t be more proud! 

Is the world more dangerous today? I don’t believe it is.  I do believe that the same crazy things happened and if you look at history, people were much more violent as a norm.  The thing is, living in Brooklyn, you didn’t hear about the kidnapping in Virginia when my grandparents and parents were kids. 

Today, we have instant information; things are streamed live from around the world.  The news media harps on it and drives it into our brains.  People become paranoid and terrified.  Our freedom is being taken from us by fear. 

Children today no longer have the privilege I and generations before me had of being carefree and going out into the world and playing.  People think of the ONE child who was abducted in Dakota and they are in a panic. 

When I was a kid and the generations before me were kids, we never heard about that incident in Dakota, we were out playing and having a ball with our friends in the neighborhood.  Today, we have kids who, at age 10, are terrified to walk from the bus stop alone from three houses away.  Kids today, regardless of gender, religion, skin color, etc. now have the privilege of living in a world of fear!  Way to go world, such progress! 

We have the privilege when we are gathered with large groups of family and life-long friends, of laughing our butts off about the time we all came home full of mud head to toe and our mom and aunt locked us out of the house and made us hose off outside.  Then they took us in two by two and put us in the showers together.  

You will laugh about the time you came home too late, couldn’t find a working payphone to call and were dragged into the house from the driveway by your hair. You will laugh about the time you and your cousin were rolling around the living room floor at ages eight and nine, each with huge clumps of one another’s hair in your hands both saying “let go first” and neither of you willing to give in until one of your moms put a stop to it, then smacked you for almost breaking something in the living room.  

You will one day laugh at fighting as a teen with that same cousin over a pillow and waking up the whole house at 3 a.m. and both getting in trouble by an aunt. 

Nope, we weren’t “abused”.  We were LOVED.  And we grew up to be great people for it. 
The kids today don’t have the privilege of a well-deserved spanking, which was rare but did happen when I was young and when I was raising my kids.  They don’t have the privilege of mom or an aunt or a good friend’s mom giving you a stern talking to or even punishing all of you.  

Kids today don’t have the privilege of facing the consequences, of being afraid the teacher will call their parents, of being afraid a cop will bring them home for doing something dangerous or stupid, of being expected to be respectful to their elders, being responsible for their actions, of fighting their own battles, of saying please and thank you, of waiting patiently for their turn, of losing the game even though they tried their hardest, of being told no to something and of realizing there’s a big world out there and it doesn’t revolve around them.

They do have the “privilege” of time out today and it works so well, not really, that I see the most despicable behavior in public these days. 

me, around 2 years old.
As kids we were very privileged.  From birth on, my parents took us everywhere, as did I with my kids.  We went to restaurants, some fancy, we went to weddings, and we went on vacations, and more.  And we had the privilege of being told how to behave prior to the event, what to expect, what was and was not allowed and what the consequences would be if we didn’t adhere.  And we were always well-behaved, we had no choice.  And guess what, we had FUN. 

My children were both two years old, at different times, obviously, when they were each taken to a very formal affair.  They were well-behaved and quiet and no one even knew they were there.  And yet… we have parents today who tell me they can’t take their eight-year-old with them.  “Oh, you know, kids don’t sit.”   Really, as I kid I sat when I was told to, so did my kids.  I guess it must have been all that privilege we had, because when we were told to sit and be quite, we sat and were quiet. 

No, we were not perfect kids, privilege doesn’t make you perfect.  We were well-behaved, respectful, law-abiding kids though and it was because of all the “privilege” we had. 

When I see whiny, complaining, disrespectful, lazy, law-breaking kids or people of any gender, age, race, ethnicity, religion, sexual orientation, hair color, eye color, height, weight, deformity, disability, etc., I feel so bad for them.  I think to myself, if only they had the privilege I and the generations before me in my family had…  Things would be so much different for them.  Rather than whining, they’d be WINNING, like we did! 

As I type this, my 77-year-old father is walking back and forth across the yard with wheelbarrows full of dirt. The best part, when I see him later, he will be happy, smiling, joking around and making everyone laugh, and especially, teasing my mom just to get a rise out of her! 

If you want all this white privilege, it’s yours for the taking, regardless of your skin color, gender, race, religion, sexual orientation, height, weight, eye color, hair color, hair texture, bra size, shoe size, or if your are a vegetarian.

No one will ever convince me I've been more privileged than anyone else simply because of the color skin I just happened to be born with and no, I won't be convinced I'm blind, ignorant, racist or any other nonsense.  The ONLY thing holding anyone back is THEMSELVES.  

I do not believe in quotas.  No school or employer should be forced to hire anyone because of their skin color.  I've seen qualified individuals turned down and unqualified individuals offered a job simply due to skin color - that is ABSURD.  If I'm offered a job, I want to be offered because I DESERVE it, not because I happen to have a certain color skin.

How does hiring an unqualified person benefit the company or the person?  How does the employee feel pride in having EARNED the position, in having worked HARD for the position, in knowing they can actually DO the job, in knowing they were the best candidate.  How do they learn to work hard to move up and do better when they think all they need to do to get a raise, a promotion, a new position or a new job is have a certain pigmentation?  You are doing the employer and employee a huge injustice hiring on pigmentation instead of qualification.

Lowering qualifications is ridiculous too.  Making tests EASIER for "minorities" is not beneficial. How does that make sense.  Lowering standards is really the way we should go?  Why?  What about the people who worked hard, studied, learned and did their very best.  Only to take a test with lower standards?  Anyone who WANTS to learn can LEARN. It's up to the person, no excuses.  I don't care that you come from a "bad" neighborhood, your mother is an alcoholic, your father took off, you are poor, etc. etc. etc.  All excuses.  I've seen "white privileged" people in horrific situations, and I've seen many people of various ethnicities, religions, races, skin colors rise above, work hard and EARN the good life.  

Stop whining about how unfair the world is.  Nothing in life is fair, learn that early on.  You can't change how others think, you can only control YOURSELF.  (See You Should Have Demanded... Part One)

CLICK VIDEO - Homeless To Harvard

I say GO FOR IT.  You will benefit from it as much as my family did, I promise. Liz Murray did just that, she went for it, she worked hard, she EARNED it, no one handed her anything due to the pigmentation of her skin, nor should they have.  She didn't whine, she didn't complain, she didn't scream unfair, she didn't march, she didn't loot, she did NONE of that.  She worked hard, she took the opportunities, she MADE THE OPPORTUNITIES and she EARNED IT.


Ben Underwood did it too!  He was strong, he never gave up.  He didn't scream unfair, he didn't whine, he didn't ask for handouts, he didn't want anything for nothing.  He fought hard.


If people could survive the horrors of the Holocaust, they can survive what they are whining about today and they can overcome it, IF THEY CHOOSE TO.  It's up to them.  No excuses.

To follow my story: (See Someone Asked Me Today How I Deal With...)


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