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My mother once said, “I may not own much, but my soul is NOT for sale.”
I am 28 years old and I want my country back.
I remember living in a country of which I was proud. I remember living in a country where I celebrated it’s day of independence with a fervor because I respected what it meant I remember living in a country where I voted and I knew it counted because there was no way my right to vote was violated. I remember living in a country which, while damaged by ideological wars that scarred the heart of innocence and left a bad taste in the mouth, was still, at heart, responsible for the rebuilding of Europe and respected for it. I remember living in a country that wasn’t scared. I remember living in a country where abortions were at their lowest because people actually felt truly safe and were financially okay. I remember living in a country where Dan Rather and those like him were actually criticized for being too conservative. I remember living in a country where I could have a conversation in which the negatives of an administration were discussed and I didn’t automatically shush someone when they got too loud because of the hatred gained by those who overheard and felt differently. I remember living in a country where the scandal of the day was the blow job that the president either did or didn't get, while watching the scandalous sexual history of presidents past on the Discovery Channel. I remember living in a country that didn't pander to the pharmaceutical companies and where there was actual health care legislation on the table that was leading us in the right direction. I remember living in a country where jobs existed in abundance and where a person who had grit and determination could pay their bills and at least FELT like they could make something of themselves. And that, I took for granted.
That is not even the worst of it, though. I remember living in a country where my greatest concerns were moving this country and it's populace forward, not fighting to hold on to the rights and humility with which I had grown. I remember fighting for the destruction of nuclear arms. I remember concentrating on recycling efforts and the education of my peers about the environment and healthy energy sources. I remember fighting against capital punishment, and working in homeless shelters, and donating money to AIDS research groups. I remember arguing for better mental health care for the poor and pushing for unions between religions that argued on insubstantial definitions of grammar and trying to reach out to the untouched enclaves of people’s hearts that could still agree that we have a basic human moral obligation to take care of those less fortunate, because, well, it’s just fucking right. I remember being involved in Free Tibet movements and paying attention to the horrors that were occurring in places that were across oceans and feeling like I was part of a collective soul that, although could be childish and selfish at times, was still good and pure and beautiful.
However, along life’s journey, I have been shown many beliefs – the worst of which was that I was simply an idealist and the world mentioned above, the world that I lived in, had never existed. A friend of mine who believes differently than I, but to whom I was still able to cling because of his ability to help me recognize the thought process behind the thinking of others, hung his head in a conversation with me not too long ago, and just said, “Ah, but Angela you are so smart. How can you think this way?” It hurt to hear someone say that. And along this journey, I have learned that the country that fought against nuclear arms refused to give their own up. That the recycling efforts and environmental efforts and energy efforts were thwarted by maniacal interests of corporations. That the state I moved to was first in provable false death row inmate executions. That homeless shelters were full of mental patients that had been released with the closing of state hospitals by Reagan. That there were people who thought that the AIDS virus was a curse given by God to exterminate people who loved differently than others. That religion, regardless of the purity from which it may come, can be perverted to such extremes that people take on God’s persona and kill in his name. And that the horrors that occur across oceans that my country seems to pay attention to are only those which are fueled by ideological bastardy and those in which the financial gain outweighs the human loss. Apparently there was a cost assigned to life while I wasn’t paying attention. And yet, throughout all that, I still found reasons to love this country, with a passion that has seemed to rival that of a god’s love of his children.
And then, our presidency was given away. And four years later, it happened again. And I grieved and wanted desperately to jump at the chance to just let go of it all and fall, because I was tired.
I am only 28 years old. The lessons I have learned have been hard to swallow. And yet, with all the ideology of youth and then the maturity that comes of growth, I have never been ashamed to believe in this country. America represents all of that – the absolute faith of a child, the anguish of an adolescent and the maturity of an adult. She represents the search of the truth, the search that we all undergo to find our place in this world and the struggle to balance the innocence of a child and the knowledge that comes with age. And in the end, there are those that say we leave here with nothing. But I disagree - I go with my soul. To those who attempt to absorb me, I say this: You can try to take my ideology. You can try to take my belief in human kind. You can try to take my energy. You can try to take my spirituality. You can try to twist whatever I say into something false and evil. You can try to manipulate my mind and turn people against me. You can try to destroy anything I attempt to create into a failure. You can try to create false realities and make me feel as though I have never known the truth. You can try to tear me down with endless assaults and an infinite amount of bribes that claim to guarantee me a better sleep at night. And I am tired. I have been fighting for five years against an ideology that I can’t even attempt to explain because my brain can not comprehend some of the things that you have done. I am exhausted and drained and want so badly to retreat into the blissful ignorance that would make up my life and the very small world around me. But I know this: I will work until I take the last breath my worn body has to give to make this the nation a better one than I remember in my youth. It was never perfect, but I will be damned if I walk away having given my children and grandchildren a karmic debt with which that they had nothing to do. I will never walk away knowing that the freedoms and progress I remember taking for granted when I was young are the same issues which they are fighting to protect.
And when I finally go to sleep at night, it is with the absolute knowledge that you have stolen NOTHING from me and I refuse to barter with that which you so desire. I MAY NOT OWN MUCH, BUT MY SOUL IS NOT FOR SALE. And you will NEVER claim it as your own.
Youth takes on an entirely different meaning when you can remember it as a different time than now: at 28 years old.
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