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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/609496-I-Have-A-Dream--was-taken
Rated: 18+ · Book · Personal · #1468633
With some disdain and a great deal of steel, she begins again.
#609496 added September 26, 2008 at 9:53pm
Restrictions: None
'I Have A Dream' was taken...
I had written a different entry for this day, one of a few ideas I had floating around in my head, all of them interesting (to me) in some capacity, some saccharine, some acerbic, but all worthy of a read (I think). I wrote it, I saved it, I mulled over titles, because I take things a little seriously at times, and this contest is no exception. My goal has always been to entertain and maybe bring about some twinge of emotion, because I’m a common sort of person and I am always hoping to be relatable. All that aside, what I am feeling today doesn’t come through in the entry I wrote. It was a little too sweet, a little bit whimsical and while I usually appreciate life-lite in other journals, as much as I do when I’m feeling it in mine, it doesn’t seem appropriate today. No, today is about the heavier side of things, the weight of the world on the shoulders, the gurgle in the stomach. I’m not panicking, not yet. I’m not suffering from the debilitating effects of anxiety, or enduring the greyness of depression. No, not yet. I’ve not imbibed any wine, nor taken any kind of drug which will lull me, soothe me or knock me out. Not yet. I have eaten a Mars bar, though. I am surprised to note that it did nothing but induce heartburn and general malaise, and there’s probably a lesson in that.

I say things in my journal that I’d never say in the world around me. So many differing opinions, so many criticisms. I get tired, trying to make my point and I am always disappointed by the way some people dismiss what I consider to be important, rolling their eyes and changing the subject. I’m fine with someone disagreeing, because we have all evolved from different worlds, every one of us interpreting our environment in our own way which leads to vastly different ideas and beliefs, but I do take issue with people who disagree without leaving room for education and change. Discussion is good. A debate is healthy. That said, I generally leave the heavy stuff to the people who can handle it.

It doesn’t seem possible to let today go by, though, without addressing the current situation in the world with respect to the economic crisis: this is going to be a tricky chapter in history. This is not meant to scare anyone, including myself, unnecessarily. I’m simply stating a fact. This is the worst crisis to have occurred in my lifetime, the one which will affect the most people, turning everything upside down. Sure, September 11th was as sensational as it was frightening, but compared to the other wars, it wasn’t as devastating as the media likes to make it. Terrifying, yes, but nothing compared to what our grandparents dealt with daily from 1939-1945. No, I’m not dismissing those who died or suffered the loss of someone on that day, but, if you look at this from a non-sentimental, logical standpoint, you’ll understand what I’m saying.

Without getting into blaming anyone for what’s occurred in the financial markets, (I don’t really get most of it anyway, mostly because they like to confuse everyone with financial jargon which essentially adds up to: we gambled hard and lost big), I’d like to think about what the common person’s role in this is. People like you and myself. I ask a very simple question: do we just let it all happen, or do we stand up and say something?

I grew up in a world of privilege, like most people in our world did. Sure, there are those who have lived in extreme poverty, but even those poor unfortunates didn’t have it as rough as the impoverished in the Third World, but let’s not get into that. It’s not a contest. So, for the sake of argument, let’s just say that most of us have had it pretty easy. Most of us have blindly and mindlessly followed the expected paths toward what society tells us we should aspire to, without giving pause to things that actually matter. We feel bad about the genocide over there, but we have our issues over here. We feel terrible about the civil unrest in the countries torn apart by war and strife, but hey, life’s tough all over.

Or is it?

You see, we’re headed into our own time of strife, and to some extent it’s our fault. We’re a ‘Give me more’ kind of world, where most people are fundamentally good, but essentially complacent; voiceless. We want it done for us and we don’t want to have to ask, because we don’t think we should have to. And why wouldn’t we think that way? It’s worked okay so far, right?

There have always been activists in the world. Celebrities who feel guilty for their wealth who try to make everyone else join them in exorcising it. It’s cynical, but kind of true, no? There are the Birkenstock-wearing set who have been diligently marching for the rights of women and trees and dolphins, and no one takes them seriously because they have soft voices and eat grass instead of steak. The activists wave their sloppily painted signs in the air, shaking their tiny fists, hoping to change the minds of those who see profit in destruction, who capitalize on the loss of innocents, and we mock them. Myself, I never really got into that kind of thinking. I was always too focused on what I was feeling, and that kept me plenty busy.

The problem with this kind of thinking is that it lacks moral scope. We enjoy a certain kind of life, exercise our right to freedom, because other people fought for our right to do it. They didn’t sit back in a dark room feeling badly about themselves, rocking back and forth in misery because they didn’t feel pretty enough, or because their father did them wrong. They stood up for the things which mattered, they looked ahead, beyond their immediate circumstance. Where would we be without the suffragettes, the civil rights activists or peacekeeping efforts? If everyone simply had holed up and cried in a corner, paralyzed by their own misery, this world would be a strange and difficult place to live in. Bitching about it over brandy wouldn’t have done much either. At some point, someone with guts stood up and stated their opinion and inspired others to join them and they did it for altruistic reasons, rather than monetary ones. Is that heroism or civil accountability?

I think the explosion of depression, anxiety and basic discontent in North America has more to do with feeling insignificant and guilty. We know we have it good, but somehow, we started feeling badly about that. We don’t like ourselves and as such, tell ourselves we don’t deserve the happiness we’ve been conditioned to expect. Does this mean that all of these afflictions aren’t real? Of course not. The suffering is real, but the cause of it and the solution to it are rooted in the way we view our own worth. We sit back and let the mouthy ’haves’ speak for us, we let them make our decisions for us because we’re too worn out to say what we’re really thinking, or because we’ve got a packed schedule of self-loathing and personal fascination to contend with. We elect them because they’re the ones willing to do it, and we don’t always question why. The ’haves’ have their own issues to grapple with though, and aren’t always concerned about speaking for us low types. They’re dealing with obsessive greed and the quest for world domination. That pretty much takes up all their free time.

I am beginning to develop a great sense of admiration for people who get up and dust off their self-obsession in favour of fighting for a common good. Though I am not able to do it yet, because it took years to craft my own neuroses and they won’t go away just because I would like them to, I realize that it’s time to start voicing my opinion. It is time to begin sending letters to the politicians who make the rules for me. It is time to take a close look at the values I have and see if they make sense for me, and the people around me. It is time to think about what shape the world will be in after I leave it. It is time to take control of what I’m eating, what I’m breathing, what I’m drinking. It is time to believe in my own worth, which by extension, will give value to the other lives around me. It is time to say NO, and to say it with real conviction, not shrinking away from it because it’s unpopular or wrinkles a few suits. It is time to start asking the questions about why oil is really so expensive, why CEOs from mega-corporations get paid millions and millions of dollars for their work, and receive as much when they’re proven to be incompetent and are relieved of duty. How is what they do any more honourable than the woman who cleans the toilets in the train station all day long? They talk, they theorize, they delegate and she scrubs until her fingers bleed. Why is it that all of our industry is in Mexico and China? Why are the answers to these questions, which we have every right to ask, so hard to find?

This is not a political rant. Not really. This is more to do with my sudden awareness of what weaklings so many of us have become. So many people saying ’I don’t want to get involved, I’ve got my own problems’ without realizing that the issues are a collective problem. Why don’t we want to be involved in our own lives? When did guts become a dirty word? Why do so many people choose to drown their sorrows in alcohol and drugs, barely able to cope with the pressure of being in a land of freedom? What is this ridiculous need we have to feel bad and sit back whining about it?

If you don’t agree with how things are being done, you need to speak up. If you are concerned, write a letter. Get angry, get into it. Argue about something which merits the adrenaline. The time to stop waiting for everyone else to fix your world is over. It is up to you. And me. And the guy sitting next to you. It’s always been up to us, and our smug, comfortable way of thinking is what lead us to the mess around us. Even our language is lazy now. We let it happen, and now it’s time to start finding a way out. The power is in our voices, and our willingness to speak. I’d love it if we could be born and die without any bit of the misery in between, but that isn’t going to happen if we keep going on the way we do.

You there. Yeah, you, the one with the condescending smirk on your face. I can’t hear a single word you’re thinking.





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