The Melting Pot or the Divided Country

Lately, I have heard more talk and signs of prejudice than I have in many years. Perhaps this is because I did not recognize the inuendoes when I was younger, but I now realize just how injurous and ignorant these comments can be. Being from Texas, I often hear people make derogatory remarks about Hispanics, but I have realized that this talk is not limited to any one group of people. In just over a month, I will be heading off to college, ready to begin an new part of my life. Because I am going out of state, I will know only one person when I arrive in the fall. However, instead of this being a challenge, I see it as an exciting opportunity. I have the ability to meet an extremely diverse array of people, different from anyone I have ever met before. When I see people of different cultures, I want to meet them and see how their background has shaped them into who they are today.
The other night, some friends and I went to Starbucks. Outside, a group of young Asians were playing some sort of card game as they spoke in a language neither of which I would probably ever be able to learn or understand. However, I was completely intrigued. I watched the way they interacted. They were intense in their game, but laughed and enjoyed each other's company at the same time. Unfortunately, my friends did not see their lifestyle in the same light as I did. They did not make any particularly degrading remarks; they did not have to. I could tell by the way they looked down on them, scared, disturbed, and confused by their actions and mannerisms. My friends made it clear that they desired to move as far away from them as possible. I was distraught. Here was an opportunity to learn about someone else; why they lived like they did and how it was to be an immigrant in America. After all, my brother currently rooms with an Asian student (even though he grew up in America, he does have some family connections abroad), and my brother has learned a great deal about other cultures through him.
Someone on National Public Radio (NPR) today mentioned that the US is no longer a melting pot. I had always been particularly fond of this term because it described how so many people could congregate and still get along. However, I began to think that this term was just an idealists' dream. Instead, we have become a divided nation, each ethnic group its own segregated people. I hope that soon, we can again become a true melting pot, learning from each other's differences, embracing our similarities. It takes one little step at a time. Be inquisitive, not derogatory. Be open-minded, not set in your own ways. In this way, we can become a united nation, rather than one divided because of its diversity.

Something is Wrong With Law Enforcement

     Although saying that there are problems with law enforcement in my city may appear to be a huge understatement to some people, it is, nevertheless, true. Last night, a few of my friends and I went to a local neighborhood park in to enjoy the cool night air. As we were swinging, we suddenly saw police lights flashing. A police had pulled a car over for speeding. After a few exchanging words of how sorry we felt for the "victim," we saw the car drive off. Subsequently, the policeman also pulled away, only to turn back and return to the spot where he was hiding, watching for other lawbreakers. 

     This scene may seem completely mundane for some, but I must explain a little further. The neighborhood road where the police was idling has a rather low speed limit considering the speed at which a car could safely drive. The speed limit, I believe, is about 30 mph, whereas, at night with no one on the streets, it would be perfectly safe to drive 45 to 50 mph, if the police were absent. In fact, I must admit, I myself have sped on this road multiple times. However, on this particular night, the police were on the hunt, stalking their prey, attempting to fill their hungry stomachs (aka ticket quotas). Not five minutes after the police re-parked, he pulled out, turned on his lights, and pulled over his next victim. If this was not bad enough, soon, another police drives down the street and pulls into the hiding spot where the other police had been previously. Only a few minutes later, while the first police is still handing out his ticket, the other police pulls over another car driving the other direction. 

     Maybe it is just me, but I can't help but think that there are better things that these policemen could be doing on a weeknight than pulling over car after car in a middle-class neighborhood. These headlines, which appeared that night and the next day, make me wonder where our policemen truly are during violent incidences: "Man shot in face in East-side complex" and "Boy riding on hood of mother's car critically injured in fall." I know the police cannot be everywhere all the time, but maybe they should pick their battles more wisely. So where were the policemen when the article about the man who was shot was being written and published? They were pulling over middle-class neighborhood residents for going ten miles over the speed limit. So which offense is more serious? Shooting a man or speeding when you are the only car on the road? Apparently, the police think it is the latter. 

The United Nations of San Antonio

Each year, thousands gather at UTSA's Institute of Texan Cultures to participate in the San Antonio Folklife Festival. With over forty different cultures represented, one can easily become immersed in the festivities. Countries such as Chile, the Philippines, Japan, and Germany are represented in the three-day event. With dancers representing nations such as Lebanon and Israel, the Folklife Festival brings together people who would naturally have enmity toward one another. But here, only celebration occurs. Celebration of culture and life, traditions and heritage. The San Antonio Folklife Festival reminds its participants of the uniqueness of every individual and how important that individuality is to the worldwide community.
Whenever the United Nations gathers together in an attempt to provide solutions to global dilemmas, the differences appear to divide them into factions reminiscent of elementary school days when the girls were determined that girls were better than the boys and vice versa. The interesting thing is, as adults, we realize that neither females nor males can survive without one another. Due to biological design, we must coexist in order to perpetuate. In the same way, the members of the United Nations understand that no country can exist without the existence of all the rest. International economics breaks down the Berlin wall of isolationism, and the new focus on global climate has destroyed that wall's very foundation. Of course, nations can inhabit the same planet and become involved with international trade in the same way that an elderly couple stays married though love has long vanished simply because they know not what else to do. However, if nations treat each other in this manner, the path to making history will be long and arduous, unpleasant for the monarchy and torturous for the peasant. Therefore, man must search for the missing link in the UN. What is it that causes tensions to flare and self-interest to overtake negotiations like the tsunami of Sri Lanka?
Despite all the entertainment and joy at the San Antonio Folklife Festival, I could not help but feel a sense of lose. Soon, my friend and I discovered why the festival felt so empty. Not one African culture was represented. Not even Egypt or the more modern cultures were represented in the array of events. Peoples from almost every other continent had gathered to celebrate, but a key member of the world, Africa, which makes up about a fifth of the earth's landmass, was completely absent. I do not know the reason that such a key part of the global community (and the United States' heritage) was not represented, but I do know that these such happenings are at least one of the reasons for the failure of the United Nations. Not to say that the United Nations cannot succeed. But so far as they have attempted to "unite the nations," they have done a pretty pathetic job. I do not feel the need to list the UN's failures at this time. I rest my case by challenging anyone to name five times in which they effectively brought peace to a violent or potentially violent situation.
Therefore, the United Nations has failed to reach its full potential because it continues to leave out key participants in its discussions. Of course, many people already know that the UN does too much "talking" and too little action, but involving all of the players of an international situation creates a much easier task of "doing" when they are all on the same page in the discussion. International cooperation is not a simple task. In fact, I do not believe complete cooperation can ever be achieved due to the selfish and power-hungry nature of so many individuals. Those who are strong must hold up the other members, possibly disciplining or breaking them in order to make them heal even stronger. Yet even more so, when one link is missing, the entire chain is useless. So, we must remember that when we embrace one another's heritage and abilities, not leaving out any member of our world, we can walk down that arduous road knowing that we have one another to lean upon.

Connecting the Old and the New

This past weekend, I traveled down to the McNay Art Museum in my home city of San Antonio to view the new exhibit that was open to visitors free of charge for two days. Surprisingly, considering my appreciation for art, I had never been to the McNay. For the most part, it contained what I expected, but what I did not foresee was the manner in which the old connected with the new. The McNay is a two part museum connecting an old mansion containing classical and cultural art with a new $50 million center full of modern and post modern painting and sculptures. The division was quite clear but did not feel forced. Somehow, it seemed proper that Auguste Rodin would be in the same facility as Jason Pollock, despite their obvious differences. While I tend to gravitate much more strongly to one than to the other, I understand that I, as the observer, cannot give standards that these artists must follow in order to fulfill my likings.
Life is the same. In life, I am mostly an observer. Yes, I can make decisions, and I believe free will often overrules Fate. Yet at the same time, a human being cannot determine the manner in which his or her life changes over time. As I prepare for college, I realize that I cannot choose the day it will begin or end. Although I may wish to turn back the clock on some things, and push it forward toward others, I realize that over this change, I have no control.
So, I see only one option for us "innocent by-standards" who are constantly tossed about by the sea and its winds of change. We must take life with a grain of salt. When I stood in a room filled with art that I found extremely difficult to appreciate, I found one piece that I enjoyed and focused on it. I noticed the other works, but I cannot tell you their details. On the other hand, that one painting that I found to be a complete masterpiece, I studied. I analyzed the artist's thought process and what the colors and shades could possibly represent. I relished in its beauty and in the skill of the artist's brush strokes. All this time, the other works of art attempted to distract me. To my right, a painting of squirrels invading a cottage; to my left a portrait of a man where the paint is bleeding down the canvas. Still, I stand and stare at the masterpiece in front of me. A ocean view of a horizon with a glare from the sun gleaming yellow, orange and blue in the layers of a sunset on the deep blue sea. A gold pocket watch hangs in the center of the painting, attached to a cord. This painting makes me realize once again that time is always an object. Time, even in the most peaceful of places, marches on. So savor it. Find that one piece of art in the midst of hundreds that captures your attention and don't take your eyes off of it. Though others distract you all around, do not be disturbed by their complex messages. Take the samples of life that you enjoy, and enjoy every minute you have with them. As the things of your old life fade and new changes arise, do not forsake either, but connect them in glorious harmony. By learning from the past, you will better understand the future. Learn to connect the old and the new, filling every moment with the things you love most, and you will surely find that your life is a musuem, holding all of the masterpieces of time, from beginning to end in a beautiful panorama of color and beauty.

The Sun Sets on a Chapter of Our Lives

We have all known each other for many years, and now, it is time to say goodbye. Our small class of 79 at San Antonio Christian Schools has gathered for the last time as a class before our graduation in a few days. The ceremony that is now taking place is not fancy. Most of the class wears plain shorts and shirts, some of which bear the symbol or name of the school they will attend, bearing witness to the change that will soon become a reality. As the wind blows upon my face, I wonder where this wind will take each of us. Most people in the class know where they will attend college, but what happens there can certainly take anyone in a completely new direction. We sing a few worship songs and ask God to bless us as we each set out our separate ways. We plan to leave Branson, MO at 1:00 a.m. after five days of fun on our senior trip. Since this is our last night, I hurry back to my room after the prayer, hoping to catch a glimpse of the sun setting on the lake over which my balcony looks. I make it just in time. The sun is barely visible, but it is just enough to catch a couple of photos.

My only comfort of leaving this paradise is knowing that I will return to Missouri in a very short time since I will be attending the University of Missouri-Columbia in the fall. Still, knowing that the next morning I will not be able to wake up and have breakfast on the balcony, looking out on the water as smooth as glass and hearing the peaceful call of the geese, is painful. As the sun sets behind the hills overlooking the lake, so does this chapter in our lives. We know that our friendships will end, even though the memories will last, and our lives will dramatically change. Fortunately, we also know that, soon, the sun will rise again. New memories will be made, and a new day will dawn.

Restaurant Focuses on Reducing Disease

The outside of the restaurant looks like a typical Mexican restaurant in downtown San Antonio. Painted a pale pink, the small square building made of stucco was not a place I would ever choose to go to for lunch. In the small parking lot were only three cars at one o'clock in the afternoon. However, the little restaurant called La Sol caught me off guard. I went to La Sol to meet San Antonio Express News Travel Editor, Tracy Barnett for lunch. She informed me that the restaurant made Mexican food in a healthy manner, using whole wheat and low fat ingredients.
When the owner came to greet us, it was clear that he and Barnett were good friends. They quickly started up a conversation in Spanish. After a while, he presented us with our menus and left to bring us back teas to drink. During this interim, Barnett explained their conversation to me. The owner, who spoke English as well as Barnett spoke Spanish, had opened this restaurant because he saw a need in his community. Many of the Hispanic population who live downtown cook with unhealthy ingredients. The owner wanted to show them that they could cook food that was just a good without the food that eventually leads to diabetes, heart disease, and other ailments. It amazed me how this man was doing so much good for his community.
The only problem is the lack of exposure--the only people eating at the restaurant while I was there were Barnett, myself, and another young white woman. Hopefully, with time, La Sol will become an even greater success in the Hispanic community. One thing I learned- you can't judge a restaurant by its color.

I Am Still Learning

A while back, National Public Radio aired a story discussing how difficult it could be at times for journalists to get people to tell their full names. As a journalist myself, I have come across the same problem. I cannot help but wonder why people are so afraid to let people know what they believe. I find it interesting how people always want to speak their views, but if someone wants to right them down on record, people all of a sudden retreat into self defense mode. Should people not take care to speak only what they would be willing to have someone write down?
I have found that many people are so unsure of their own beliefs that they are terrified that someone else might challenge them. Clearly, this is not a beneficial attitude. I, myself, have been hesitant to speak about my political and social opinions, not because I fear someone will reprimand me, but because I do not wish to deliver false or faulty information to those who hear.
This past weekend, two people I know spoke ignorantly, and I must say that this perturbs me more than most other actions. I do not mention these two individuals to call them into rebuke but rather to use them as examples of what I have witnessed over my lifetime. First of all, the one girl, about my own age, began to speak about the Invisible Children fund, which gives money to assist the children in Uganda who are often forced into the military. When she was explaining the topic to some of her relatives, she said the money went to children in Uwanda. Having heard of this organization before, I quickly listened to see if I had heard correctly. Again she repeated, the children were from Uwanda. I realized that she was quite mistaken, as she combined the countries of Uganda and Rwanda, the country directly south of Uganda, into one word. Later on, the country was straightened out, and the girl understood her mistake. In the same day, I was talking politics with someone, and he said he could not support Barack Obama because of Reverend Wright. As most people had, I had also heard this often over the past month, but what suprised me was what he said next. He said he did not like Rev. Wright because he said, "God 'f ' America." I quickly corrected him, telling him that, in fact, Rev. Wright said, "God d**** America." In no way was I attempting to defend Rev. Wright for his comments or Obama for his spiritual affiliation, yet I could not bear to hear someone so distort the facts.
Lest one believe these two individuals to be uncommon examples, I want to clarify that they are two intelligent individuals. Although the first girl is not the most intellectual person I have met, she does attend a fairly elite private school and excels in the environment. The man most likely is one of the most intellectual men I have ever met. He is likely more informed on most every topic than most legislators are, and his only downfall is his extremely conservative bias. Still, what I have seen is that overall, most people make many mistakes when they are relaying information. The only action I can take is to inform others when they speak wrongly and encourage everyone to research and become extremely familiar with your information before publicizing it. On everything you say, you should be willing to put your name. I have had my share of downfalls. Speaking uninformed is one I have committed many times. The best we can do is learn. Maybe all of our mottoes should be this quote by Michelangelo, "Ancora imparo." "I am still learning."