Call Them an "American"
Nobody’s Opinion: It’s a good thing President Bush came out this morning and got the nation’s focus off Obama’s historical racial speech yesterday, because instead of “unifying” Americans, it did only one thing: ignite exasperation.
Obama’s speech started out with how insidious it was that the founding fathers did not get rid of slavery with The Declaration of Independence.
Well, gee.
Personally, with all the intelligence he has, I was rather surprised to hear him rubbing that old wound with fresh salt. After all, for the next six weeks, the wonderful HBO John Adams series will certainly show that our forefathers had all they could do to just fight the British, let alone slavery too at the same time.
There is a scene in the first HBO episode where, at the trial of the Boston Massacre, John Adams, who is hired to defend the British soldiers, brings out the point that the “mob” was shouting the word, “Fire!” along with throwing ice and oysters shells; taunting them into firing…which they did.
Haven’t we seen the same tactic being used by the Clintons and their subordinates?
They finally got what they wanted.
The video of Obama’s bigoted and obnoxious family friend, Reverend Wright, forced Obama to play his racial black Jack. He had no choice but to defend his friend and the blacks on whose vote he depends, and in doing so, divided the nation once again into this pool of hypersensitive, hyperbole of “inequality.”
Obama’s weak arguments emphasized that he is not the unifier he proclaims to be, but just the man to lead the African-Americans out of the land of Egypt into the promised land.
Still---I have a better idea, and a story to go with it:
One day my kitchen sink stopped up--on a Friday. I called a local technician to come out.
“We can’t send anyone out if there is snow on the ground. We don’t let the men get up on the roof…it’s our policy.”
“What?”
I found their policy a bit absurd, since I assured the lady that, at my house the inch of snow we had gotten the night before was gone, and there was no snow on the roof.
Nope. She stuck to her story. Call back in two weeks.
This was not going to work. I got visions of fast food every night, gaining fifty pounds--- I would end up on Oprah. I was desperate. Selling my computer for new clothes was not an option.
So I called a competitor. It was up to the service man if he wanted to risk his life getting on a dangerous roof, I was told. Who knows what vicious icicles might attack him in the prime of his life. The company would not bear his medical expenses.
Within minutes I got a call.
“How’s your roof look?”
“It’s a little wet, but hey, I’ll get up there with you if you’re scared and catch you if you fall.”
So, when the “African-American” guy showed up in his big company truck, I said to myself, “Thank god, a man who wants to work.”
Only problem was, he didn’t have a latter.
(Note; Obama uses the label, “African-Americans” as much as he possibly can.)
“We have one,” I said. “I just don’t know how to open it.”
So there we were, a young “African-American” man, and a very worried white woman trying to figure out what button to push to open up this huge steel latter…a latter so big, the last time I opened it myself, I fell over backward from the weight of it and barely missed an electrical wire.
Tell me there isn’t a God.
We were having a bit of a problem, and the African-American man, expressed concern about getting it open.
“What, are you kidding?” I said. “We’re Americans! We can do anything!”
Well….I wish I could tell you the look on that African-American face. He took a step back, his eyes got big. He got real quiet.
He looked at me as if I had just told him I was from the planet ZEON and I was there to tell him he was my son.
It was plain, that the man not only did not like being called an American, a country that had enslaved his distant ancestors, but that he and I had nothing whatsoever in common.
The thought of the fact that he was an American, and I was an American, was almost a new concept to him…
And therefore the problem.
Most of the people who call themselves African-Americans were born right here. They have never even seen Africa, nor likely will they.
It’s time they remember many lives were sacrificed to free the slaves, and two wrongs don’t make an African-American right. The more they keep separating themselves from us with labeling themselves as different, the more the politicians will keep us all down.
It’s time these people look in the mirror each morning and say to themselves…
”I am an American. I can do anything!”
In fact, it wouldn’t hurt the rest of us either.
Obama’s speech started out with how insidious it was that the founding fathers did not get rid of slavery with The Declaration of Independence.
Well, gee.
Personally, with all the intelligence he has, I was rather surprised to hear him rubbing that old wound with fresh salt. After all, for the next six weeks, the wonderful HBO John Adams series will certainly show that our forefathers had all they could do to just fight the British, let alone slavery too at the same time.
There is a scene in the first HBO episode where, at the trial of the Boston Massacre, John Adams, who is hired to defend the British soldiers, brings out the point that the “mob” was shouting the word, “Fire!” along with throwing ice and oysters shells; taunting them into firing…which they did.
Haven’t we seen the same tactic being used by the Clintons and their subordinates?
They finally got what they wanted.
The video of Obama’s bigoted and obnoxious family friend, Reverend Wright, forced Obama to play his racial black Jack. He had no choice but to defend his friend and the blacks on whose vote he depends, and in doing so, divided the nation once again into this pool of hypersensitive, hyperbole of “inequality.”
Obama’s weak arguments emphasized that he is not the unifier he proclaims to be, but just the man to lead the African-Americans out of the land of Egypt into the promised land.
Still---I have a better idea, and a story to go with it:
One day my kitchen sink stopped up--on a Friday. I called a local technician to come out.
“We can’t send anyone out if there is snow on the ground. We don’t let the men get up on the roof…it’s our policy.”
“What?”
I found their policy a bit absurd, since I assured the lady that, at my house the inch of snow we had gotten the night before was gone, and there was no snow on the roof.
Nope. She stuck to her story. Call back in two weeks.
This was not going to work. I got visions of fast food every night, gaining fifty pounds--- I would end up on Oprah. I was desperate. Selling my computer for new clothes was not an option.
So I called a competitor. It was up to the service man if he wanted to risk his life getting on a dangerous roof, I was told. Who knows what vicious icicles might attack him in the prime of his life. The company would not bear his medical expenses.
Within minutes I got a call.
“How’s your roof look?”
“It’s a little wet, but hey, I’ll get up there with you if you’re scared and catch you if you fall.”
So, when the “African-American” guy showed up in his big company truck, I said to myself, “Thank god, a man who wants to work.”
Only problem was, he didn’t have a latter.
(Note; Obama uses the label, “African-Americans” as much as he possibly can.)
“We have one,” I said. “I just don’t know how to open it.”
So there we were, a young “African-American” man, and a very worried white woman trying to figure out what button to push to open up this huge steel latter…a latter so big, the last time I opened it myself, I fell over backward from the weight of it and barely missed an electrical wire.
Tell me there isn’t a God.
We were having a bit of a problem, and the African-American man, expressed concern about getting it open.
“What, are you kidding?” I said. “We’re Americans! We can do anything!”
Well….I wish I could tell you the look on that African-American face. He took a step back, his eyes got big. He got real quiet.
He looked at me as if I had just told him I was from the planet ZEON and I was there to tell him he was my son.
It was plain, that the man not only did not like being called an American, a country that had enslaved his distant ancestors, but that he and I had nothing whatsoever in common.
The thought of the fact that he was an American, and I was an American, was almost a new concept to him…
And therefore the problem.
Most of the people who call themselves African-Americans were born right here. They have never even seen Africa, nor likely will they.
It’s time they remember many lives were sacrificed to free the slaves, and two wrongs don’t make an African-American right. The more they keep separating themselves from us with labeling themselves as different, the more the politicians will keep us all down.
It’s time these people look in the mirror each morning and say to themselves…
”I am an American. I can do anything!”
In fact, it wouldn’t hurt the rest of us either.
Labels: politics
posted by Joyanna Adams at 10:08 AM
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