My Two Cents: Guns v Cars

I’ve told this story before, but, well, Carlos posted something to Facebook about guns and got some vile responses so I’ll talk about it again.

It all began when we learned that Kroger stores in areas where open carry — being able to carry a gun, rifle, assault weapon openly in public — is legal, and one day, while shopping at our Kroger store, we expressed our displeasure at their policy.

We were told by the manager that what Kroger has is a ‘neutral policy’ on open carry which we then explained was really a ‘We don’t care’ or ‘We look the other way’ policy; we made the suggestion that maybe a sign could be posted in store windows asking that people refrain from bringing weapons into a grocery store when they stop for a carton of milk, and, again, we were told Kroger’s policy is neutrality.

Since then our policy has been to shop anywhere but Kroger because I have this aversion to asking someone to move their AK47 so I can get some eggs, but that’s just me ….

And, when on Facebook, I often repost stories from Moms Demand Action for Gun Sense in America; I also reTweet some links from the group. Well, Carlos shared a photo from the group one day and was inundated with all kinds of gun nuts who basically told him to STFU … funny, they want their Second Amendment rights protected while seeking to deny Carlos his First Amendment rights but what do you expect from people who want to carry a loaded firearm into a grocery?

Anyway, one nut suggested that cars kills more people than guns and does Carlos want cars outlawed? I commented that with cars you have training and licenses before you drive, two things you don’t always find in the homes of gun nuts. I also said that, with cars, most people carry insurance, so that if they hurt, or goddess forbid, kill someone with their car there is some form of restitution to the victims. Not so much with guns; if you are shot by a gun nut because, well, their gun just happened to go off, or maybe someone nudged them or ... whatever ... there is no form of restitution for the victims.

Plus, and I’ll say this again: cars were not invented as a weapon; guns, however, were. And it bears repeating that people who own guns, who carry guns, intend to use them … to shoot at something; maybe a tin can on a fence post; maybe a deer in the woods; maybe a bird on the sky. But they intend to put a hole in something, or someone. People who drive cars are not intending to kill anyone.

Still, I don’t want guns taken away from people — at least not those people who are mentally sound and don’t have a criminal history; I understand some people feel the need to have a gun for protection; I get that.

But we need to remember that guns are designed to kill, or maim, or injure, while cars are designed to move us from place to place. If someone gets hit by a car, or hurt in a car accident, it’s because a mistake has been made; something’s gone wrong. If someone gets shot it because the gun was being used in the way in which it was intended.

Guns are for killing; cars are for driving. Big difference.

My Two Cents: Come Out, Speak Out, And Minds Can Be Changed

I am all about coming out. I want every LGBT person out, and out now, because I seriously believe, and seriously know, that if we were to all come out then most of this anti-LGBT bias would simply fade away because it would be clear that we are everywhere; we live next door to you; we work alongside you; we worship beside you, sit at the bar with you, go to the movies with you.

We’re like the Visa card: we’re everywhere you want to be.

And once everyone realizes that The Gays are not so very different from everyone else — except in whom we love — then maybe a lot of this intolerance and ignorance and fear will dissipate. Oh sure, I’m no Pollyanna about this, I know there will still be those thumping their Bibles about Adam and Steve, and Leviticus, but I think the majority of people will simply look at The Gays and say, “Oh, I see it now” and then move along.

I’ve seen it happen in my own life. I’ve seen people change their views on The Gays once realizing that I am ‘One.’ They see that I’m not the stereotype, the joke; I’m not something to fear, I’m just Bob, who happens to be married to Carlos. The few times in my life where people have not been accepting, who have turned their backs on me for being gay, are from people who are entrenched in their so-called faith; they think God is, if not hate, then intolerance. But, when we do come out — and we do it all the time … we recently changed grocery stores and are now The Gay Couple at Food Lion — it does seem to change minds.

We experienced this with our new neighbors recently. Carlos, the MasterBaker of our house — I’d swear, he’d be MasterBaking right now if he wasn’t at work — made a lovely loaf of Orange-Cranberry Bread to take over to the new neighbor’s home. At their door, the husband answered, and he was a little taken aback by ‘Bob and Carlos’ but he said ‘Thanks’ and took the bread and closed the door; all very politely.

Oh well, we thought, his loss, because we’re nice neighbors; but, cut to the next night when his wife came over — she wasn’t home the Day of the Bread — to thank us and talk with us and tell us about herself and her family, and listen to us about ours.

It’s that simple; coming out, living life, being yourself, people understand. Though, for a lot of folks, this whole anti-LGBT thing is about the “sex” because, you know, The Gays are all about “the Sex.” We do it all the time, every second of every day, everywhere, anywhere — heck, I could be doing it right now and typing at the same time because we gays are quite adept at multi-tasking … but I digress.

Years back, and I know you’ve heard some of this before but bear with me, I met Carlos online. We chatted online, emailed back and forth, and then went to The Phones. We lived on opposite coasts, so I’d call him when I got up in the morning, just as he’d be arriving at work, and he’d call me late in the evening just as I was getting home from work. This went on for a couple of months and then I had vacation time, so off to Miami I flew.

A hop skip and a jump later, it was love. The next month, Carlos came to California to visit me, meet my friends and family. We arrived at my parent’s house and my Mom — who loved Carlos instantly, mainly because her son loved him — told us we’d be in the bedroom at the top of the stairs.

I was kind of shocked, because I’d kind of expected my parents to keep us in separate rooms, as they had done with my sister and her boyfriends and my brother and his girlfriends. But, we shared the room at the top of the stairs, and, years later, after Carlos and I were officially a couple, living to together in  Miami, my mother told me that my father wasn’t exactly pleased that we were sharing a room because, he wondered, “What were they doing up there?”

My mom explained that, most likely, we’d be sleeping, but even if we weren’t, did my father ever wonder what my sister and her, now husband, were doing  ‘up there’?

That’s when my Dad realized that what Carlos and I had, and have, is not just sex; it’s the same things he’d felt with my Mom when they were dating, and when they got married; the only difference is that it wasn’t Bob and Sue — my mom and dad — it was Bob and Carlos. Same love, same gender, but no real difference.

All of this leads to a point — and I do have one — which is this: gay people need to come out.

I recently read an article in the New York Times which seemed to prove exactly what I’ve been saying: that if we all come out, and simply live our lives openly, and talk about ourselves like everyone else talks about their lives and loves, then  world will change for us.

The NYT article talks about a study has come out that which suggests that something as simple as a twenty minute conversation about a controversial and personal issue — in the case of the study, it was a gay person talking to straight people about same-sex marriage — can spark a change in attitude that is not only a lasting change, but also seems to spread from there.

It’s like the telephone game, only with acceptance.

The study, led by Michael LaCour of UCLA, tested whether or not a door-to-door campaign run by the Los Angeles LGBT Center would produce a change of attitude, a change in acceptance of the LGBT community in general, and same-sex marriage in particular. The study, begun in 2008, after the passage of California’s marriage ban, Prop 8, sent canvassers into neighborhoods that had come out strongly in favor of the proposition to talk about marriage equality.

The experiment, or study, mimicked a drug trial; the researchers recruited voters from these precincts, surveyed their attitudes — including those on same-sex marriage — and then randomly assigned them to receive either the “treatment” or a placebo.

The “treatment” was a knock on the door and a conversation, initiated by either an openly gay canvasser or a straight one; the “placebo” was either a talk about recycling or no canvassing at all.

The result: 20% of the voters who were chatted up about marriage equality shifted their positions to being pro-same-sex marriage, and it worked whether the canvasser was gay or straight; it was just the simplicity of the conversation.

It’s like Harvey Milk said, forty years ago, and it still holds true today:

“Gay brothers and sisters ... You must come out. Come out... to your parents... I know that it is hard and will hurt them but think about how they will hurt you in the voting booth! Come out to your relatives... come out to your friends... if indeed they are your friends. Come out to your neighbors... to your fellow workers... to the people who work where you eat and shop... come out only to the people you know, and who know you. Not to anyone else. But once and for all, break down the myths, destroy the lies and distortions. For your sake. For their sake.”

It’s the only way change can truly happen; it’s the only path toward understanding and acceptance. Sure, there will be some who will still seek to deny us rights, who will still see us as less than, as an abomination. But their numbers will dwindle while acceptance and understanding grows.

Come out. Come out already.

study at NYT

Ferguson Decision: Benjamin Watson's Two Cents

Benjamin Watson plays professional football for the New Orleans Saints and, just before game-time last week, the decision not to indict Darren Wilson for the death of Michael Brown came down. Like many of us, Watson was confused, angry, hurt, sad, pissed off, but took a moment to write his feelings down in a Facebook post that went viral.

Here they are:

 “At some point while I was playing or preparing to play Monday Night Football, the news broke about the Ferguson Decision. After trying to figure out how I felt, I decided to write it down. Here are my thoughts:

I’M ANGRY because the stories of injustice that have been passed down for generations seem to be continuing before our very eyes.

I’M FRUSTRATED, because pop culture, music and movies glorify these types of police citizen altercations and promote an invincible attitude that continues to get young men killed in real life, away from safety movie sets and music studios.

I’M FEARFUL because in the back of my mind I know that although I’m a law abiding citizen I could still be looked upon as a “threat” to those who don’t know me. So I will continue to have to go the extra mile to earn the benefit of the doubt.

I’M EMBARRASSED because the looting, violent protests, and law breaking only confirm, and in the minds of many, validate, the stereotypes and thus the inferior treatment.

I’M SAD, because another young life was lost from his family, the racial divide has widened, a community is in shambles, accusations, insensitivity hurt and hatred are boiling over, and we may never know the truth about what happened that day.

I’M SYMPATHETIC, because I wasn’t there so I don’t know exactly what happened. Maybe Darren Wilson acted within his rights and duty as an officer of the law and killed Michael Brown in self defense like any of us would in the circumstance. Now he has to fear the backlash against himself and his loved ones when he was only doing his job. What a horrible thing to endure. OR maybe he provoked Michael and ignited the series of events that led to him eventually murdering the young man to prove a point.

I’M OFFENDED, because of the insulting comments I’ve seen that are not only insensitive but dismissive to the painful experiences of others.

I’M CONFUSED, because I don’t know why it’s so hard to obey a policeman. You will not win!!! And I don’t know why some policeman abuse their power. Power is a responsibility, not a weapon to brandish and lord over the populace.

I’M INTROSPECTIVE, because sometimes I want to take “our” side without looking at the facts in situations like these. Sometimes I feel like it’s us against them. Sometimes I’m just as prejudiced as people I point fingers at. And that’s not right. How can I look at white skin and make assumptions but not want assumptions made about me? That’s not right.

I’M HOPELESS, because I’ve lived long enough to expect things like this to continue to happen. I’m not surprised and at some point my little children are going to inherit the weight of being a minority and all that it entails.

I’M HOPEFUL, because I know that while we still have race issues in America, we enjoy a much different normal than those of our parents and grandparents. I see it in my personal relationships with teammates, friends and mentors. And it’s a beautiful thing.

I’M ENCOURAGED, because ultimately the problem is not a SKIN problem, it is a SIN problem. SIN is the reason we rebel against authority. SIN is the reason we abuse our authority. SIN is the reason we are racist, prejudiced and lie to cover for our own. SIN is the reason we riot, loot and burn. BUT I’M ENCOURAGED because God has provided a solution for sin through his son Jesus and with it, a transformed heart and mind. One that’s capable of looking past the outward and seeing what’s truly important in every human being. The cure for the Michael Brown, Trayvon Martin, Tamir Rice and Eric Garner tragedies is not education or exposure. It’s the Gospel. So, finally, I’M ENCOURAGED because the Gospel gives mankind hope.”

Words to live by, to grow by, to understand, and to try and do better.

source

Ferguson: My Two Cents

I normally have a great deal of respect for the police; those men and women who risk their lives each and every day to “protect and serve.” But I also know that, like in almost every area of society, there are the good cops and the bad cops. There are cops who are over-zealous; cops who profile; cops who target.

And I know that, in some cases, and probably far too many that I’d care to think about, the police act and react differently to a situation based on the area, the community, and the color of the skin involved.

I am quite certain that, were a police officer to point his gun at me and I were to raise my hands — in that universal symbol of surrender and proof that I do not have a weapon — I’d live another day.

Not so Michael Brown of Ferguson, Missouri.

Sure, a lot’s been said, and then unsaid, about this situation. There are stories, he said and she said and they said, and who said, from all sides, but the fact remains that another young Black men is dead in what seems almost like an epidemic in this country.

Are Black men not allowed to wear hoodies? Are they always suspect? And when they surrender are they always shot?

It appears so. Sadly, and that’s the real issue.

The police in Ferguson were out of control that night, that's clear, and they continued running unchecked for the first few nights that followed; they did things they would possibly never do to a white man in a white suburb; that’s clear. You may not believe it, but you’d be wrong, because, try as I might, I don’t recall a lot of stories where white kids are shot and killed for carrying Skittles and wearing hoodies, and I don’t see a lot of newspaper reports of young white men surrendering and being shot and killed.

I just don’t see it.

And while people can say the police in Ferguson were just doing their job — serving and protecting — it seems quite clear, by any number of witnesses, that Michael Brown, an eighteen-year-old Black man, was murdered on the street.

Sure, there was some kind of kerfuffle between Brown and Darren Wilson, the cop who shot him, but it appears the facts — given by any number of witnesses — state that, while Brown was running away from police they continued shooting at him, and when he turned around, raised his arms in surrender, and to prove he had no weapon, he was murdered in the street.

And then left there. No call to 911; no call to report the shooting. A young man dead in the street and nothing happens ... no calls ... no reports.

Afterwards, the Black community — which accounts for the majority of the citizens of Ferguson — began rioting, and, yes, maybe some were looting. I have never understood how breaking into a store and stealing a TV shows my anger at police, or anyone other than the store owner, but that’s just me. What happened next, however, was surreal...

The local police, of St. Louis, reacted as though this were some terrorist attack and began firing rubber bullets and tear gas even into crowds that had peacefully gathered together to protest Brown’s death. Again I can’t see this happened in a white community; I cannot see police, in riot gear, firing recklessly into a crowd of white citizens who are marching in protest; I cannot see police in riot gear, assault weapons, and assault vehicles, rolling through a white community to “keep the peace.”

Finally, after several days of unrest, Missouri Governor Jay Nixon stepped in and took the local police out of the equation — possibly thinking they were too close to the situation since it was one of their own that shot and killed Michael Brown — and placed the state highway patrol in charge of the situation.

The next night it was quiet in Ferguson.

But people are still thinking about why this happened, and how this happened, and why it happens again and again around this country. If Michael Brown was doing something stupid, even something illegal, even something to provoke a cop into shooting him, you cannot argue that what happened to Michael Brown had nothing to do with his skin color.

I know for a fact that had it been me, or any other white man on the street that night, in any town in America, and I had turned toward police officers, my hands in the air, I would still be alive today.

Not so for Michael Brown, and that’s the issue we need to discuss.