Politics thru Comics: Havanagila Bibi Wins, Clinton's Baggage...

Source: http://www.mcclatchydc.com/2015/03/15/259729/mcclatchy-cartoons-for-the-week.html

Good News: Former Nurse Charolette Tidwell Gives Back

Charolette Tidwell's plans for retirement aren't like many others: The retired 69-year-old nurse is using her pension to run a food pantry she started and is working there - unpaid - six days a week.

"The community that I was raised in did this. My mom did it. The folks at the church did it. The nuns at the school that I went to elementary school did it," she said. "We were mentored into this kind of work. Service was something that I've always been involved in."

Tidwell feeds 7,000 people a month in her hometown of Fort Smith, Arkansas - handing out 500,000 meals a year through her Antioch for Youth and Family group. The town has suffered from the closures of factories, layoffs at the chicken factory, and low wages, and Tidwell said she sees the elderly and families showing up for help.

"I was raised in poverty and I understand all the issues that go along with not having enough money," she said.

She started the charity in 2000 after retiring and learning that seniors in her community were eating cat and dog food - a cheap way to get protein.

"Allowing the generation that raised us to go to the point that they're eating cat food and dog food, I can't imagine that," she said. "I think it's a forgotten population."

People come and go on a recent food giveaway day, with some bringing wagons to carry home the donations. Others just come on bicycles. They scoop up vegetables, fruit and meat.

"We thank the Lord for this lady here, Mrs. Tidwell, for helping us out in a time of need, said Sherri Warren, a client of the food pantry.

Tidwell said she saves enough from her pension to get by, economizing on utility bills and figuring out the best deals on food to maximize what she can give. For more than 13 years, most of the group's funding came from Tidwell and a few small donations; now that's been supplemented by some small grants.

"I think if they have a persistence or purpose to come here, I have the obligation to serve them," Tidwell said. "And to serve them in a compassionate, respectful way."

There is a sense of community among the clients, the unpaid volunteers and Tidwell.

"Many of our people are repeaters. They tell someone, and then those persons become repeaters. So it's important for us to be not just a giver of food, but a giver of hope," she said.

Tidwell hopes to pass on her work to the next generation, and there is already one contender: a boy named Timmy who comes to volunteer with his mom.

"It makes me feel good because I get to help people," he said.


"I want it to continue, if anything happens to me, Tidwell said of her work. "I just believe it will happen."

Source: http://www.nbcnews.com/nightly-news/retired-nurse-uses-pension-feed-thousands-her-hometown-n317611

Strange Fruit

Southern trees bear strange fruit,
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root,
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze,
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.

Pastoral scene of the gallant south,
The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth,
Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh,
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh.

Here is fruit for the crows to pluck,
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck,
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter crop.

A United States Citizen, adult male was found hanging from a tree in Mississippi. It’s 2015! 

Suicide or murder? The FBI is investigating. 

Retaliation? It's reported, in 1980, Byrd, the man found hanging from the tree, was convicted of murdering a woman in the same county for $101. Byrd served 25 years in prison and was paroled in 2006.
 
I’ve long been disenchanted with the idea that everyone must get along. However, it seems with each passing day that I grow more resolved to engage to establish policies that will provide the opportunity for all citizens of the United States to share in opportunity and thrive despite the individuals (all races) who dwell in hate (retaliation) and racism (hung because he was black). To be clear, I don't know what happened, this could have been suicide (my assumption: unlikely). 

Still, a man hanging from a tree sends a clear implicit message, and it is not acceptable.  Suicide or otherwise.

Update 21 March:

The Daily Beast Reported:

On Friday, a federal law-enforcement official told the Los Angeles Times that preliminary autopsy results point to suicide as the cause of death for the black Mississippi man found hanging from a tree.  Otis Byrd was found Thursday hanging about two feet off the ground by police who were searching for him. (Byrd was last seen at a casino almost two weeks ago.) The FBI, the Justice Department’s Civil Rights Division, the U.S. Attorney’s Office, and the Mississippi Bureau of Investigation are all investigating the incident. Autopsy results are expected next week.

My assumption, suicide was unlikely.  I am shocked and saddened that a man of the South would take his life — should suicide be the final autopsy result — by hanging himself from a tree knowing the historical significance and symbolism of men hanging from trees in the South. Then, surely, if he committed suicide that was likely the last thing on his mind. Nevertheless, a man hanging from a tree sends a clear implicit message, and it is not acceptable.  Suicide or otherwise. Come on people, let's get it together.

Video Intrigue: Mike Tyson's Best Knockouts

 

Boxing fans, all of Mike's knockout victories in one video, pure boxing excellence.

 

Mike Tyson is the clearest evidence ever that talent alone is not sufficient to succeed in a chosen career field.  If your personal life is not in order, your career will suffer.  

Consider choosing your mate and your supporting team wisely. Accept and support, but do not be beholden the family you were born into. 

You Already Know --- Yet

Wasting time before focusing on the business I had planned for myself today I came across "New Video Shows Fatal Police Shooting Of Mentally Ill Black Man" on the Huffington Post's front-page. 

I already had an idea of what it would show, yet, I clicked it anyway.  I wanted to see if the video was liberal witch-hunting.  I wanted to see if it was the type of video with a sensational headline but displays a complex situation in which a man who happens to be black is killed, and the actions that led to his death skirted the gray area.  By gray area I mean the police could have defused the situation but in killing the man you and I as observers can understand their choice in the heat of the moment.

After clicking the front page link, I was greeted by the title "Family Of Jason Harrison, Mentally Ill Black Man Killed By Dallas Police, Release Graphic Video"

I gave it a second thought, maybe I shouldn't watch, again — I already had an idea of what I would see, yet, I wanted to watched because there is nothing like seeing for yourself. Then I thought, read the article first, maybe context can be gained.

I read the first paragraph:

(Reuters) - The family of a mentally ill African-American man who was shot dead by Dallas police last summer has released footage from an officer's body camera that recorded the incident, the Dallas Morning News reported on Monday.

No need to read more.  The officers knew they were being recorded, I'll take in the video and form my opinion.  Below is the video should you choose to view it.

  

After watching the video, I thought, damn, any hope that it wouldn't happen in the fashion that actually occurred was gone.  Gray area — nah, this was simple and clear-cut: 

• The police could have  defused  the situation. 
• The police could have taken the man down using physical force. 
• The police could have wounded the man to hinder any advances against them.

* For those that chose not to watch the video, Jason was shot five times, he was holding a clearly visible screwdriver, and during the video he exits from the front doorway in the officers direction. He could have been following his mother or approaching the officers. 

 

Another American, another man, another son, DEAD, SHOT BY POLICE OFFICERS.  Here is the thing, we already knew this was going on, yet.  

We already know that police officers rough up criminals and sometimes innocent people mistaken for criminals. We see officers and detectives "rough up" on TV, in movies, and it's witnessed live in some neighborhoods. Maybe we even expect and like it. There is no sympathy for a criminal, their criminals, and shouldn't be committing crime anyway.  Ultimately, we know the someone is going to step in, "Hey, hey, enough, he's learned his lesson."  Or as seen in the popular TV show Law and Order: SVU (dude had it coming?): 

We already know that police officers may have to kill, and because the men and women who choose to serve put there lives on the line everyday to maintain law and order they are to be given the benefit of reasonable doubt even when there is not an logical explanation for what occurred. The leeway is because they are human too and mistakes will happen as they act on behalf of public safety.

The video released by the family of Jason Harrison — recorded by body camera's, this horrendous example of policing gone wrong in Dallas, Texas is what the protests in Ferguson are about. The Ferguson protests started in part based on lies and misinformation and in part based on mismanagement of the situation by officials and citizens. The protests persist because events like what happened to Jason Harrison persist. 

I haven't read the DOJ report on Ferguson, but an author I trust reported:

The investigation concluded that there was no evidence to contradict Wilson's claim that Brown reached for his gun. The investigation concluded that Wilson did not shoot Brown in the back. That he did not shoot Brown as he was running away. That Brown did stop and turn toward Wilson. That in those next moments "several witnesses stated that Brown appeared to pose a physical threat to Wilson." That claims that Brown had his hands up "in an unambiguous sign of surrender" are not supported by the "physical and forensic evidence," and are sometimes, "materially inconsistent with that witness’s own prior statements with no explanation, credible for otherwise, as to why those accounts changed over time."

Unlike the local investigators, the Justice Department did not merely toss all evidence before a grand jury and say, "you figure it out." The federal investigators did the work themselves and came to the conclusion that Officer Wilson had not committed "prosecutable violations under the applicable federal criminal civil rights statute, 18 U.S.C. § 242."

Our system, ideally, neither catches every single offender, nor lightly imposes the prosecution, jailing, and fining of its citizens. A high burden of proof should attend any attempt to strip away one's liberties. The Justice Department investigation reflects a department attempting to live up to those ideals and giving Officer Wilson the due process that he, and anyone else falling under our legal system, deserves.

Police on the force — Chief of Police to the rookie cop, Sheriffs, State Troopers, you need to fix this before a tipping point is reached. I have the utmost respect for police officers.  In September of 2014 I wrote these words that ring true for me today:

I rely on myself for my safety and well being, when I can’t protect myself or the situation is beyond my ability to resolve I’m calling the police for help. The police are a civil force that’s responsible for the prevention and detection of crime, and the maintenance of public order. We — the people — are not subservient to the police. A police officer killing an individual must never be viewed as routine. Are there “bad cops” on the force, no matter how you define “bad cop” the answer is yes; are all cops “bad cops” the answer is no. The idea that policing is immune to racism is impracticable, and the notion that officers of the law are the enemy of the people lacks common sense. Police are charged with our safety. Beyond that, there are lots of shouldn’t, should’ve, and could’ve, and couldn’t that occur between citizens and police officers. It is what it is, and we — the people — must never be satisfied with sub-par service from the civil force that has sworn to protect and serve.

My fellow citizens, we need to fix this before a tipping point is reached. A friend of mine stated:

This (officers unjustifiably killing citizens) has been going on, it's just now the Internet is shining light on it.

I reject that there was no light before. I've reached the conclusion that we already knew, and, the vast majority in legal positions of authority to do something about it chose to accept it. The vast majority of those without legal authority, but had moral authority and influence chose to accept it. The vast majority of those without legal authority or influence alone, didn't come together to exercise strength in numbers because it wasn't happening repeatedly to their tribe, their class, or their gender. And for those that truly didn't know, "Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise."

Campus rape is not a new phenomenon. Agree or disagree? If you've chosen to accept campus rape as something we have to live with you may have answered similar to: 

• Disagree, campus rape is new and it didn't happen back in the day
• Agree, but it won't happen to my daughter
• Agree, but if women would stop wearing yoga pants and tight clothing...
• I don't have a daughter and don't care
• Agree, but I'll teach my daughter how to avoid situations in which she can be raped
• Agree, but if college weren't coed it wouldn't be a problem
• Agree, it's been happening, nothing was done because nobody knew, but now the Internet is helping to shine a light on it

History has shown that only a few like minds are needed to produce change, and when change happens, arguably society benefits. In "I Can’t Believe I Still Have to Protest this Shit" I wrote if you're going to get involved you should consider:

You and your family first. Take care of home. Focus on being a productive member of society and raising your children to do the same. 

Your circle of influence first. Engage your circle, and encourage your circle to engage theirs.

Do not accept or promote unacceptable behavior.

Avoid the show them mentality; focus on showing yourself. You don’t need my approval, and you don’t need his or her approval. You don’t need to show people anything. You want to make your mark on the world, make your mark because you want to show yourself that you can. Make your mark because you want to be an example for others to follow. If proving people wrong or “showing them” is a motivator for you, use it as you must, but don’t lose sight of the real reason, which is to show yourself.

Allow people to be people and believe them when they show you who they are.

Do you.

Engage on issues that are important to you within the means available to you based on your situation and resources.

I still feel the list is worthy of consideration for engagement in our society and at best a starting point for someone seeking to foster change.

The vast majority of us are either too busy surviving, too detached, too numb, too unbelieving, too righteous toward extremes — every killing is abuse of power or every killing is justified no matter how irrational/ every man accused of rape is guilty or every woman crying rape led him on, and the list of too goes on and on and on, and I've come to realize, we already knew, yet.

Well, we need all hands on deck and on the side of what is morally good, fair, and ethical. Watching the death of Jason Harrison is the example that led me to share my view, but there are plenty of issues to choose from in the world to make the case that too many of us are silent and accepting in general. So silent that we sometimes don't vote which tends to cost little other than time and one of our most powerful tools of influence. I could go on and on, but you already know, yet...well that's up to you and I.

   

Vintage Obama

It is a rare honor in this life to follow one of your heroes. And John Lewis is one of my heroes.

Now, I have to imagine that when a younger John Lewis woke up that morning fifty years ago and made his way to Brown Chapel, heroics were not on his mind. A day like this was not on his mind. Young folks with bedrolls and backpacks were milling about. Veterans of the movement trained newcomers in the tactics of non-violence; the right way to protect yourself when attacked. A doctor described what tear gas does to the body, while marchers scribbled down instructions for contacting their loved ones. The air was thick with doubt, anticipation, and fear. They comforted themselves with the final verse of the final hymn they sung:

No matter what may be the test, God will take care of you;

Lean, weary one, upon His breast, God will take care of you.

Then, his knapsack stocked with an apple, a toothbrush, a book on government – all you need for a night behind bars – John Lewis led them out of the church on a mission to change America.

President Bush and Mrs. Bush, Governor Bentley, Members of Congress, Mayor Evans, Reverend Strong, friends and fellow Americans:

There are places, and moments in America where this nation’s destiny has been decided. Many are sites of war – Concord and Lexington, Appomattox and Gettysburg. Others are sites that symbolize the daring of America’s character – Independence Hall and Seneca Falls, Kitty Hawk and Cape Canaveral.

Selma is such a place.

In one afternoon fifty years ago, so much of our turbulent history – the stain of slavery and anguish of civil war; the yoke of segregation and tyranny of Jim Crow; the death of four little girls in Birmingham, and the dream of a Baptist preacher – met on this bridge.

It was not a clash of armies, but a clash of wills; a contest to determine the meaning of America.

And because of men and women like John Lewis, Joseph Lowery, Hosea Williams, Amelia Boynton, Diane Nash, Ralph Abernathy, C.T. Vivian, Andrew Young, Fred Shuttlesworth, Dr. King, and so many more, the idea of a just America, a fair America, an inclusive America, a generous America – that idea ultimately triumphed.

As is true across the landscape of American history, we cannot examine this moment in isolation. The march on Selma was part of a broader campaign that spanned generations; the leaders that day part of a long line of heroes.

We gather here to celebrate them. We gather here to honor the courage of ordinary Americans willing to endure billy clubs and the chastening rod; tear gas and the trampling hoof; men and women who despite the gush of blood and splintered bone would stay true to their North Star and keep marching toward justice.

They did as Scripture instructed: “Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.” And in the days to come, they went back again and again. When the trumpet call sounded for more to join, the people came – black and white, young and old, Christian and Jew, waving the American flag and singing the same anthems full of faith and hope. A white newsman, Bill Plante, who covered the marches then and who is with us here today, quipped that the growing number of white people lowered the quality of the singing. To those who marched, though, those old gospel songs must have never sounded so sweet.

In time, their chorus would reach President Johnson. And he would send them protection, echoing their call for the nation and the world to hear:

“We shall overcome.”

What enormous faith these men and women had. Faith in God – but also faith in America.

The Americans who crossed this bridge were not physically imposing. But they gave courage to millions. They held no elected office. But they led a nation. They marched as Americans who had endured hundreds of years of brutal violence, and countless daily indignities – but they didn’t seek special treatment, just the equal treatment promised to them almost a century before.

What they did here will reverberate through the ages. Not because the change they won was preordained; not because their victory was complete; but because they proved that nonviolent change is possible; that love and hope can conquer hate.

As we commemorate their achievement, we are well-served to remember that at the time of the marches, many in power condemned rather than praised them. Back then, they were called Communists, half-breeds, outside agitators, sexual and moral degenerates, and worse – everything but the name their parents gave them. Their faith was questioned. Their lives were threatened. Their patriotism was challenged.

And yet, what could be more American than what happened in this place?

What could more profoundly vindicate the idea of America than plain and humble people – the unsung, the downtrodden, the dreamers not of high station, not born to wealth or privilege, not of one religious tradition but many – coming together to shape their country’s course?

What greater expression of faith in the American experiment than this; what greater form of patriotism is there; than the belief that America is not yet finished, that we are strong enough to be self-critical, that each successive generation can look upon our imperfections and decide that it is in our power to remake this nation to more closely align with our highest ideals?

That’s why Selma is not some outlier in the American experience. That’s why it’s not a museum or static monument to behold from a distance. It is instead the manifestation of a creed written into our founding documents:

“We the People…in order to form a more perfect union.”

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.”

These are not just words. They are a living thing, a call to action, a roadmap for citizenship and an insistence in the capacity of free men and women to shape our own destiny. For founders like Franklin and Jefferson, for leaders like Lincoln and FDR, the success of our experiment in self-government rested on engaging all our citizens in this work. That’s what we celebrate here in Selma. That’s what this movement was all about, one leg in our long journey toward freedom.

The American instinct that led these young men and women to pick up the torch and cross this bridge is the same instinct that moved patriots to choose revolution over tyranny. It’s the same instinct that drew immigrants from across oceans and the Rio Grande; the same instinct that led women to reach for the ballot and workers to organize against an unjust status quo; the same instinct that led us to plant a flag at Iwo Jima and on the surface of the Moon.

It’s the idea held by generations of citizens who believed that America is a constant work in progress; who believed that loving this country requires more than singing its praises or avoiding uncomfortable truths. It requires the occasional disruption, the willingness to speak out for what’s right and shake up the status quo.

That’s what makes us unique, and cements our reputation as a beacon of opportunity. Young people behind the Iron Curtain would see Selma and eventually tear down a wall. Young people in Soweto would hear Bobby Kennedy talk about ripples of hope and eventually banish the scourge of apartheid. Young people in Burma went to prison rather than submit to military rule. From the streets of Tunis to the Maidan in Ukraine, this generation of young people can draw strength from this place, where the powerless could change the world’s greatest superpower, and push their leaders to expand the boundaries of freedom.

They saw that idea made real in Selma, Alabama. They saw it made real in America.

Because of campaigns like this, a Voting Rights Act was passed. Political, economic, and social barriers came down, and the change these men and women wrought is visible here today in the presence of African-Americans who run boardrooms, who sit on the bench, who serve in elected office from small towns to big cities; from the Congressional Black Caucus to the Oval Office.

Because of what they did, the doors of opportunity swung open not just for African-Americans, but for every American. Women marched through those doors. Latinos marched through those doors. Asian-Americans, gay Americans, and Americans with disabilities came through those doors. Their endeavors gave the entire South the chance to rise again, not by reasserting the past, but by transcending the past.

What a glorious thing, Dr. King might say.

What a solemn debt we owe.

Which leads us to ask, just how might we repay that debt?

First and foremost, we have to recognize that one day’s commemoration, no matter how special, is not enough. If Selma taught us anything, it’s that our work is never done – the American experiment in self-government gives work and purpose to each generation.

Selma teaches us, too, that action requires that we shed our cynicism. For when it comes to the pursuit of justice, we can afford neither complacency nor despair.

Just this week, I was asked whether I thought the Department of Justice’s Ferguson report shows that, with respect to race, little has changed in this country. I understand the question, for the report’s narrative was woefully familiar. It evoked the kind of abuse and disregard for citizens that spawned the Civil Rights Movement. But I rejected the notion that nothing’s changed. What happened in Ferguson may not be unique, but it’s no longer endemic, or sanctioned by law and custom; and before the Civil Rights Movement, it most surely was.

We do a disservice to the cause of justice by intimating that bias and discrimination are immutable, or that racial division is inherent to America. If you think nothing’s changed in the past fifty years, ask somebody who lived through the Selma or Chicago or L.A. of the Fifties. Ask the female CEO who once might have been assigned to the secretarial pool if nothing’s changed. Ask your gay friend if it’s easier to be out and proud in America now than it was thirty years ago. To deny this progress – our progress – would be to rob us of our own agency; our responsibility to do what we can to make America better.

Of course, a more common mistake is to suggest that racism is banished, that the work that drew men and women to Selma is complete, and that whatever racial tensions remain are a consequence of those seeking to play the “race card” for their own purposes. We don’t need the Ferguson report to know that’s not true. We just need to open our eyes, and ears, and hearts, to know that this nation’s racial history still casts its long shadow upon us. We know the march is not yet over, the race is not yet won, and that reaching that blessed destination where we are judged by the content of our character – requires admitting as much.

“We are capable of bearing a great burden,” James Baldwin wrote, “once we discover that the burden is reality and arrive where reality is.”

This is work for all Americans, and not just some. Not just whites. Not just blacks. If we want to honor the courage of those who marched that day, then all of us are called to possess their moral imagination. All of us will need to feel, as they did, the fierce urgency of now. All of us need to recognize, as they did, that change depends on our actions, our attitudes, the things we teach our children. And if we make such effort, no matter how hard it may seem, laws can be passed, and consciences can be stirred, and consensus can be built.

With such effort, we can make sure our criminal justice system serves all and not just some. Together, we can raise the level of mutual trust that policing is built on – the idea that police officers are members of the communities they risk their lives to protect, and citizens in Ferguson and New York and Cleveland just want the same thing young people here marched for – the protection of the law. Together, we can address unfair sentencing, and overcrowded prisons, and the stunted circumstances that rob too many boys of the chance to become men, and rob the nation of too many men who could be good dads, and workers, and neighbors.

With effort, we can roll back poverty and the roadblocks to opportunity. Americans don’t accept a free ride for anyone, nor do we believe in equality of outcomes. But we do expect equal opportunity, and if we really mean it, if we’re willing to sacrifice for it, then we can make sure every child gets an education suitable to this new century, one that expands imaginations and lifts their sights and gives them skills. We can make sure every person willing to work has the dignity of a job, and a fair wage, and a real voice, and sturdier rungs on that ladder into the middle class.

And with effort, we can protect the foundation stone of our democracy for which so many marched across this bridge – and that is the right to vote. Right now, in 2015, fifty years after Selma, there are laws across this country designed to make it harder for people to vote. As we speak, more of such laws are being proposed. Meanwhile, the Voting Rights Act, the culmination of so much blood and sweat and tears, the product of so much sacrifice in the face of wanton violence, stands weakened, its future subject to partisan rancor.

How can that be? The Voting Rights Act was one of the crowning achievements of our democracy, the result of Republican and Democratic effort. President Reagan signed its renewal when he was in office. President Bush signed its renewal when he was in office. One hundred Members of Congress have come here today to honor people who were willing to die for the right it protects. If we want to honor this day, let these hundred go back to Washington, and gather four hundred more, and together, pledge to make it their mission to restore the law this year.

Of course, our democracy is not the task of Congress alone, or the courts alone, or the President alone. If every new voter suppression law was struck down today, we’d still have one of the lowest voting rates among free peoples. Fifty years ago, registering to vote here in Selma and much of the South meant guessing the number of jellybeans in a jar or bubbles on a bar of soap. It meant risking your dignity, and sometimes, your life. What is our excuse today for not voting? How do we so casually discard the right for which so many fought? How do we so fully give away our power, our voice, in shaping America’s future?

Fellow marchers, so much has changed in fifty years. We’ve endured war, and fashioned peace. We’ve seen technological wonders that touch every aspect of our lives, and take for granted convenience our parents might scarcely imagine. But what has not changed is the imperative of citizenship, that willingness of a 26 year-old deacon, or a Unitarian minister, or a young mother of five, to decide they loved this country so much that they’d risk everything to realize its promise.

That’s what it means to love America. That’s what it means to believe in America. That’s what it means when we say America is exceptional.

For we were born of change. We broke the old aristocracies, declaring ourselves entitled not by bloodline, but endowed by our Creator with certain unalienable rights. We secure our rights and responsibilities through a system of self-government, of and by and for the people. That’s why we argue and fight with so much passion and conviction, because we know our efforts matter. We know America is what we make of it.

We are Lewis and Clark and Sacajawea – pioneers who braved the unfamiliar, followed by a stampede of farmers and miners, entrepreneurs and hucksters. That’s our spirit.

We are Sojourner Truth and Fannie Lou Hamer, women who could do as much as any man and then some; and we’re Susan B. Anthony, who shook the system until the law reflected that truth. That’s our character.

We’re the immigrants who stowed away on ships to reach these shores, the huddled masses yearning to breathe free – Holocaust survivors, Soviet defectors, the Lost Boys of Sudan. We are the hopeful strivers who cross the Rio Grande because they want their kids to know a better life. That’s how we came to be.

We’re the slaves who built the White House and the economy of the South. We’re the ranch hands and cowboys who opened the West, and countless laborers who laid rail, and raised skyscrapers, and organized for workers’ rights.

We’re the fresh-faced GIs who fought to liberate a continent, and we’re the Tuskeegee Airmen, Navajo code-talkers, and Japanese-Americans who fought for this country even as their own liberty had been denied. We’re the firefighters who rushed into those buildings on 9/11, and the volunteers who signed up to fight in Afghanistan and Iraq.

We are the gay Americans whose blood ran on the streets of San Francisco and New York, just as blood ran down this bridge.

We are storytellers, writers, poets, and artists who abhor unfairness, and despise hypocrisy, and give voice to the voiceless, and tell truths that need to be told.

We are the inventors of gospel and jazz and the blues, bluegrass and country, hip-hop and rock and roll, our very own sounds with all the sweet sorrow and reckless joy of freedom.

We are Jackie Robinson, enduring scorn and spiked cleats and pitches coming straight to his head, and stealing home in the World Series anyway.

We are the people Langston Hughes wrote of, who “build our temples for tomorrow, strong as we know how.”

We are the people Emerson wrote of, “who for truth and honor’s sake stand fast and suffer long;” who are “never tired, so long as we can see far enough.”

That’s what America is. Not stock photos or airbrushed history or feeble attempts to define some of us as more American as others. We respect the past, but we don’t pine for it. We don’t fear the future; we grab for it. America is not some fragile thing; we are large, in the words of Whitman, containing multitudes. We are boisterous and diverse and full of energy, perpetually young in spirit. That’s why someone like John Lewis at the ripe age of 25 could lead a mighty march.

And that’s what the young people here today and listening all across the country must take away from this day. You are America. Unconstrained by habits and convention. Unencumbered by what is, and ready to seize what ought to be. For everywhere in this country, there are first steps to be taken, and new ground to cover, and bridges to be crossed. And it is you, the young and fearless at heart, the most diverse and educated generation in our history, who the nation is waiting to follow.

Because Selma shows us that America is not the project of any one person.

Because the single most powerful word in our democracy is the word “We.” We The People. We Shall Overcome. Yes We Can. It is owned by no one. It belongs to everyone. Oh, what a glorious task we are given, to continually try to improve this great nation of ours.

Fifty years from Bloody Sunday, our march is not yet finished. But we are getting closer. Two hundred and thirty-nine years after this nation’s founding, our union is not yet perfect. But we are getting closer. Our job’s easier because somebody already got us through that first mile. Somebody already got us over that bridge. When it feels the road’s too hard, when the torch we’ve been passed feels too heavy, we will remember these early travelers, and draw strength from their example, and hold firmly the words of the prophet Isaiah:

“Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not be faint.”

We honor those who walked so we could run. We must run so our children soar. And we will not grow weary. For we believe in the power of an awesome God, and we believe in this country’s sacred promise. May He bless those warriors of justice no longer with us, and bless the United States of America.

U.S. Navy Reenlistment Another Sailor Continues to Support the Mission

I had the honor of reenlisting a bright and talented Sailor Friday. In this blog is the design of the plaque that I gifted to her to mark the day, and the speech I delivered on her behalf. 

The ceremony was a resounding success, and I am glad I was able to be a part of it.

 

Reenlistment short words:

We’re gathered to discharge and reenlist IT1 Marcus.

Serving in the U.S. Navy is challenging and service is not for everyone.

Perform to Serve and high retention ensures competition among our best and brightest just for the opportunity to reenlist.  Bottom line, today’s Sailors face challenges that will at best help them determine if they want to stay Navy or at worse force them to separate.

In the case of IT1 Marcus, she has turned challenges into opportunities.

Enlisting undesignated, she overcame the challenge of finding a rate and struck the IT. The rest is history, she has excelled as evidenced by her advancement to First Class within 5 years of entering the rate.

She’s a leader; on watch she led her team in supporting submarines on missions of national importance. Her efforts helped ensure our submarines maintained the ability to communicate with headquarters in order to deter aggression and maintain freedom on the high seas.

As Committee Treasurer, she dedicated numerous off-duty hours to ensure the 114th Submarine Birthday Ball was successful, and it was.  Even though she will not be able to attend, she contributed to the fundraising efforts of the 115th Submarine Birthday Ball.  And for that, as Committee President, I thank you.

Lastly, serving in Japan, she’s an ambassador for the U.S. Navy, and American women, which she represents both well.  More importantly, she’s a role model and example for her beautiful daughter Brooklyn to aspire to.

The Navy, once considered a place where you could accelerate your life.  We are a Global Force for Good.  And while we are not perfect, we are the World’s Finest Navy.  When I look at Information Systems Technician First Class Ayanna Marcus I see a young motivated Sailor that is going to do big things in our organization, I see the future of America’s Navy.

Thank you for choosing to stay Navy, the Navy is nothing without outstanding people; the Navy would be nothing without you.  Everyone - please join me in a round of applause for IT1 Marcus.

With that, it is my privilege to discharge and distinct honor to reenlist IT1 Marcus.

Attention to Discharge:

Words…


Attention to Reenlistment

I, (name), do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God.

 

Ben Carson – Unite, Heal, Thrive – for America

Long shot?

Serious contender?

Yes to both; it will be interesting to see what his exploratory committee finds.