CajunBlueAZ1

I’ve never had a strong sense of patriotism, but only because it hadn’t occurred to me that being a patriot involves participation. It is participation that builds a democracy. It is continued participation that maintains a democracy. I was riding the coat strings of activist for the past 150 years. Those days are over for me.

The truth is that there are only a couple of reasons I’ve voted since turning 18. Civil rights activists fought and some gave their lives, so that I am able to cast my ballot. I have always believed that the government has the responsibility for providing basic needs to the people inhabiting our great nation. These reasons were the sum total of my personal accountability and responsibility to vote.

The last 18 months have fostered a depth of appreciation for this country that has prompted me to act. I’ve never been unpatriotic, just a passive recipient of the rights that have been hard fought – for me. I have never been ‘proud’ to be an American until we began to lose what made us the United States of America… Not merely accepting diversity, but embracing and celebrating it. We are not a melting pot, we are a salad bowl. We were.

Democracy has not been blatantly dismissed in our nation’s history until 45. I will not refer to “him” as the president, because he was not a democratically elected leader. The sacredness and integrity of the election process of the United States has been betrayed.

There are so many experiences, exchanges, and life lessons that go into the core people we become. The vigor of my resolve is deeply rooted. It took a while to come full circle, but I now understand the connection between my core values and my newly impassioned commitment to the U.S.

For greater insight into the history of my birthplace in terms of civil rights, read https://www.jstor.org/stable/26476405, cited below. I was born in Monroe, Louisiana and lived there through grade school. The culture of the community presented a very clear racial divide. It was unspoken because it was the norm. I credit my family, particularly my grandfather, for teaching me why our family did not go with the grain. The ‘n’ word was heard daily – in school, at any gathering with others, and openly in public. But, not in my home.

I remember asking my grandfather why he slept with a gun next to the sliding glass door, circa 1986. He went on to tell me the series of events that led to his permanent post for sleeping. My grandfather was approached by the KKK to join in 1958. It was what white men did. My grandfather didn’t. He declined to join several times. They ultimately threatened to kill him and his family. He refused. My father recalled the memory of not being able to leave the house for days. This was when my grandfather bought a couple of guns and the beginning of his new sleeping post.

I was so taken back that he refused to join after they threatened him and his family that I lost his message initially. I asked him why he didn’t join. He said, “We do the right thing because it’s the right thing to do, period.” I was bought in from that moment.

His lesson about the inherent dignity, value, and worth of each person planted embers deep within me. I remember being taunted by peers when I sat on a swing next to a black girl. I believe I was in the 4th grade. She told me I should go. I didn’t want to go. She was nice and she made me laugh. I cannot remember her name, but I remember that day. That day, I made my first black friend – and it felt good for her to be my friend. I didn’t “get” the significance for her until years later.

I look back and see that I was taught to treat civil rights as a way of life. I did. My brother did. The culture of my home went against the culture of hate. I see the overlap between civil liberties and the government. The embers were imprinted at a young age. The realization that I needed to participate in the fight to restore civil liberties, humanitarian efforts, and democracy was the spark.

I want to unite with other patriots and participate in making democracy work again.

FAULKENBURY, E. (2018). “Monroe is Hell”: Voter Purges, Registration Drives, and the Civil Rights Movement in Ouachita Parish, Louisiana. Louisiana History: The Journal of the Louisiana Historical Association,59(1), 40-66. Retrieved January 9, 2020, from http://www.jstor.org/stable/26476405