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 Tales from real life |
| Well, if they're not true, they oughta be! |
There are many things that used to be considered normal, but would freak people out today. Like kids riding in the back of a pickup truck, smoking in a restaurant, or playing with mercury. I remember that there was a small bottle of mercury on a knickknack shelf at my grandma’s house. It might have been ‘liberated’ in the 1930s by my uncle Bill when he worked in the underground copper mines in Butte, Montana. It might even have been left over from the 1860s when my great-grandpa Albert panned for gold near Virginia City during the Montana gold rush. Mercury can be used to separate gold dust from sand and gravel, and it’s still being used today for gold mining in third world countries. Regardless of its source, the silvery liquid metal on grandma Anna’s shelf was tempting to us kids. The thick glass bottle was rectangular rather than round, and it had a wire bail cap with a rubber gasket that kept the mercury safely sealed inside. Its label was long gone so I don’t know if the bottle originally contained liquor, patent medicine, or maybe that was just the way mercury was packaged way back when. I remember that the bottle looked old-fashioned to me even in 1967. Liquid mercury is a fascinating thing to a 10-year-old, bright silver and mysteriously viscous as it flows back and forth. Unlike water, its surface tension is so high that it ‘stands up’ as though repelled by the glass wall of the bottle. The most startling thing, though, is its weight. Mercury is 13 times as dense as water. That small bottle contained only eight or ten fluid ounces, but it hefted like a ten-pound sack of sugar. Grandpa would smile when one of us would fail to pick it up on the first try. A really small kid might have to use both hands. And such a treasure was too difficult to resist, so I took a cue from my uncle and ‘liberated’ a spoonful to show to my fifth-grade friends. Everyone was impressed as I’d hoped, but my little relish jar wasn’t as secure as the bottle at grandma’s house. The mercury escaped one afternoon as it was being passed around on the school bus. Soon, there were little beads of bright silver rolling up and down the grooves of the rubber mat in the aisle. Every time the bus slowed or went downhill, the beads rolled forward. They rolled back again with acceleration or an uphill climb. We all giggled hysterically for the rest of our trip home that day. I couldn’t tell the bus driver, of course, and I’ve sometimes wondered if he ever figured out what was going on. Maybe he didn’t even notice, mercury is quite volatile, so it would have evaporated in a day or two. The only lasting evidence was the unseen damage to our bodies from inhaling toxic mercury vapor. Several years later, I learned about the very real danger of mercury fumes when our high school science teacher decided to make a J-tube barometer. He used a Bunsen burner to soften some glass tubing and slowly bent it into a J shape. Then he put a dollop of mercury inside and closed off the short end by melting it with the Bunsen burner. The result was an air bubble trapped in the short side of the J-tube. The mercury level in the long side of the tube changes depending on the outside air pressure. So, the J-tube can be mounted on a piece of poster board with a scale, and the level of the mercury can be used as a barometric pressure gauge. It took Mr. Foulis a number of tries to perfect his technique and he spilled mercury onto the lab bench once or twice as he worked. Heat from the Bunsen burner only exacerbated his exposure to the mercury vapor. The cumulative effect of breathing the toxic fumes over a span of several days landed him in the hospital with symptoms similar to pneumonia. The mercury vapor damaged his lungs and he coughed up bloody mucous. Fortunately, he recovered and returned to school a week later with a truly convincing lesson about the dangers of mercury poisoning and the need for lab safety gear. All this happened at about the same time that we learned about mercury contamination in food fish such as tuna. Environmental mercury gets into the ocean from natural sources such as erosion and volcanic activity. Even more comes from coal-fired power plants and illegal gold mining. It builds up in fatty tissue and becomes more concentrated as it rises up the food chain. These were all proven facts, yet I remember a general sense of skepticism about the dangers of mercury poisoning. The toxic effects were already well known, but parents didn’t want to hear that a tasty tuna casserole could be harmful to their children. It was easier to scoff at the biologists and remain blissfully ignorant. But long-term exposure to mercury at low levels can cause brain damage or kidney failure. In the 18th century, mercury was part of the process for making felt hats. Milliners were constantly exposed to traces of mercury in the fabric and their symptoms became the source of the old saying, “Mad as a hatter.” So, it’s definitely better to limit exposure. Today, my mercury story makes me think of the woke movement. Anti-woke conservatives are quite open about keeping their children ignorant of anything that might embarrass them. They don’t want to acknowledge the ‘bad’ parts of history like slavery and Jim Crow by teaching kids about the civil rights movement. Instead, they want to emphasize glorious accomplishments by white male 'Christians' while glossing over the contributions of women and minorities. Presidential mandates have already led to the purging of ‘woke’ stories from government and military websites. The anti-woke movement uses MAGA as justification for not loving their neighbors. More importantly, buying into MAGA allows them to avoid responsibility for being their brother’s keeper. Willful ignorance means they don’t have to welcome immigrants, act with Christian charity toward others, or even pay taxes. I get it, I'd certainly feel less guilty about exposing my classmates to mercury if I'd never found out about its toxic effects. On the other hand, if I had fully understood the danger (by being woke), I might not have played with it like a shiny toy. And if my grandma had been more aware, that bottle of mercury might not have been left within reach of a curious child. Bigotry, racism, and a sense of cultural entitlement are a bit like mercury poisoning. The source isn’t always obvious and the long-term effects of even low exposure can be severe. Kids aren’t born to hate. It takes hateful adults to teach them. That’s a real problem. And awareness of a problem is the first step in finding a solution. Ignorance is never an acceptable strategy. I believe woke is the first step in protecting all children from being poisoned by systemic bigotry. And only the woke will be able to feel empathy and find solutions. |
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