I have not thought about describing my views about political correctness on my blog. I just want to talk about recipes and paint colors and not touch the subject of what is happening in the real world but leave it to others that do it so well. The news people…they won’t lose their followers. However, the tragedy that struck at the Orlando nightclub this week made me decide to blunder through what I have been thinking and feeling.
My heart goes out to those that were so needlessly struck down and please, I apologize if I don’t select the right words, I don’t believe there are any “right words”. My prayers can only mingle with all those other prayers out there as they fill the atmosphere and travel upward to a God we believe in…otherwise we wouldn’t pray.
I am very thankful that I have not heard much about the sad soul that did this and the name of this person not put on a pedestal over and over. Rather we should be talking about those that lost their lives and celebrate the lives they lived. What made them happy, joyful and what they could have given to the rest of us.
Please, lets stop giving groups of people a name, like LG….whatever. I don’t want to look at individuals as some group of initials that I don’t care about. NO, it means, IT DOESN’T MATTER! We all put our pants on one leg at a time, we all cry when we lose those that are close to us or watch Charlottes Web, we all need to eat, breathe, feel loved and love others. Every time we put people into a group that has some type of group name or column on an application it PISSES ME OFF! Every time we put people into a group it is human nature to stand up for our own group and try to be the best or the most popular or the prettiest or the smartest or most talented. Stop with the groups already!
On our last trip to Orlando, which you know we adore, this happened while I watched on. I was at the pool watching an 8 or 9 year old “white” boy swim around while his family sat by in their chaises. Another family, a “black” family, came by and their son, about the same age as the other young boy, jumped in the pool. Before you know it…about two minutes, the two boys were tossing a ball back and forth and laughing and just having a great time for the next hour. As the black family was getting ready to leave, the young white boy yelled out to his dad asking what time they were going to dinner. His father yelled back, “about 6:00”. The boy yelled to his newly found “black” friend asking if he and his family wanted to meet them for dinner. Everyone kind of looked at one another, like “what do we do now”? It was adorable. It made me smile and it made me realize…it isn’t that we are born with grouping one another into categories and columns…it is that we are taught to do it.
We need to be like children…accepting, unbiased, free to feel happy with one another regardless of our make, model or creed.
Out of tragedy comes love and hopefully outpouring of soul searching and realizations and the willingness to see each other as a friend and an individual and the ability to not pigeon hole someone we don’t know.
Love and prayers.