People are People

Few things cause my blood pressure to spike to dangerous levels, well, aside from when the kids forget to put the lid back on the toothpaste every. single. morning. But when something gets me, gets inside my body and makes me feel like my head will explode or that my heart will lurch out of my chest, then I know that it is something that matters.

I was upset when parents refused to do anything about their children behaving inappropriately at Family Movie Night at our school. I did something about it.

I received emails which offended. I deleted them.

I was flabbergasted about the increasing popularity of Brats dolls. I wrote about it.

I am continually outraged by the threat to our right to choose. I shared my opinion.

I am saddened by how little humans seem to care for the world in which we live, and I try, every single day, to do things that will make that better, for our children - for the future.

I believe, deep in my soul, that the human race is capable of so much good, if only we could all just get along. I try to instill this value for all people in my kids. I try not to yell when people cut me off in the car. I try to exercise patience when others make lousy decisions and instead turn the situation around and make it a learning experience.

Most of the time, I feel like we're making progress. I feel vindicated when I see random acts of kindness, people smiling at total strangers, holding a door open for another, donating to a car wash to raise money for a good cause or even buying a box of candy from a smiling 1st grader.

But then there are times like this, when I see the ugliest side of people and I want to scream out loud, yell from the hillside and pummel each and every idiot who would ever even consider speaking these things. I want to put my hands over my children's ears and shield them from opinions like these. Convince myself that they don't exist.

But that would be feeble.

That wouldn't matter, it wouldn't make a difference and my silence would only feed the monster. I refuse to do that.

Many conversations have taken place at our dinner table about the fact that we will not allow our sons to join the Boy Scouts. It isn't that we don't want them to learn to whittle, start a fire, learn the proper botanical names for plants and community service, because we do. But we will never knowingly support an organization that does not accept all people. Period.

A little background on the Boy Scouts of America's anti-gay position can be found here.

My silence on this issue would be my compliance.

Please, visit Kevin Charnas' blog and read about the Oklahoma State Representative whose secretly taped conversation about gays being as dangerous as terrorists is making its rounds on the Internet.

Please go to the Human Rights Campaign site and sign the letter. It is easy.

Run, don't walk.

Between this, Eliot Spitzer and Dr. Laura, this week has been a real dousy.

Maybe it's not my impending birthday that is stressing me out after all. Maybe it's this.