6th Day of Thanksgiving: The Power of the Pen

Little Drummer Boy had his annual Thanksgiving program today complete with Pilgrim costumes, Native American headdresses, a tee pee and an alarming number of lyrics about chopping turkeys. Quiver was tied up with work, so it was just me and my favorite 4-year-old for lunch consisting of… turkey sandwiches. I must have heard “I love you, Mommy” 637 times and enjoyed it every time. I’m realizing that I say “I love you” to my gifts pretty often–with every available breath, actually. Now, I’m starting to get it back at me. Granted, sometimes it’s translated as “don’t spank me, Mommy,” but more often than not it signifies a grand old time.

All the Pilgrims and Indians today got me thinking. What’s a 12 Days of Thanksgiving without a little history? And, courtesy of the Starkville Public Library and LDB’s penchant for wanting to read the same book over and over (and over) again, I’ve learned a new little bit of history this year about the power of the pen.

A woman named Sarah Hale is credited with being the catalyst for the creation of a designated national day of Thanksgiving–the one we celebrate now on the fourth Thursday of November. We checked out a book from the library about her called Thank You Sarah, The Woman Who Saved Thanksgiving by Laurie Halse Anderson. It has great illustrations and a fun account of this unusual woman.

Sarah Hale was a writer and activist long before women even had the right to vote. She was a teacher, a poet, a songwriter (does Mary Had a Little Lamb ring a bell?) and a mom. She was also the editor of an influential women’s magazine–one of the first of its kind. She used that forum to lobby for any number of issues close to her heart. One of those issues was a national day of Thanksgiving. She first lobbied for the idea by challenging states to set aside a day. She succeeded, but every state had a different day. She felt there was value in creating a common day set aside for all Americans to give thanks. So, she began writing again–both columns in her magazine and letters and more letters. All in all, she spent 38 years writing letters and articles about Thanksgiving, including letters to five different presidents.

Finally, in 1863, when the country was in the midst of the bloody Civil War, she found someone who agreed that a national day of Thanksgiving could be a positive force in the American culture. On October 3rd of that year, President Abraham Lincoln delivered the first Thanksgiving proclamation.

What can I learn from history?

1. Sarah’s pen was indeed a powerful tool. And today, the pen is easier to wield than ever before with countless opportunities for “citizen media”– vehicles like blogs, social networking sites, email correspondence, and yes, the U.S. Postal Service still runs 6 days per week.

2. Sarah didn’t give up until her message was embraced–even after 38 years. It wasn’t enough for it to be heard. She was persistent until she convinced that one person who could make a difference.

3. The results had lasting power–so much so that a century and a half later President Barack Obama will make a Thanksgiving proclamation on Thursday, November 26th.

People with conviction can have a powerful impact if they choose to use their voices. Whatever I have to say, I better make it count.

We interrupt this…

regularly scheduled MeMyBook&Eye post to bring you Banned Books Week sponsored by the American Library Association and supporting the “freedom to read and the importance of the First Amendment.”

“Appropriate” material is deemed in the eye of the beholder. Martin Luther’s translation of the Bible and hymnbooks containing worship songs like “A Mighty Fortress is Our God” were banned and burned by the Roman Catholic Church in the 16th century. What was reformative to some was a threat to others.

There are many types of communications such as child pornography, hate-inciting “speech” and false accusations that are rightfully outlawed by governments because they exploit innocent lives and rob others of basic human rights. However, lifestyles, religious beliefs, and moral decisions are choices I reserve the right to make for myself.  If you have questions about the ability of society to formulate a consensus list of what is appropriate, I direct you to #s 4, 13, 22, 26, and 40 on this list of books targeted for banning during the 20th century. Who knew “some pig” could be so offensive?

As a parent and a human being, I respectfully demand the opportunity to choose what is appropriate, wholesome or valuable for myself and my children–my only governing factor, an audience between myself and my God. When the squelching of ideas is permitted, tyranny takes root–for the next “beholder” may deem MY thoughts to be inappropriate. Knowledge is power, and the stories of our time are often told by the powerful. Everyone deserves the freedom to read and write their story.

Waking Up on 9/11

“We are living in a time of pervasive sleepwalking.”

I first read this quote back in 2000, and it has stayed embedded in my thoughts ever since. It speaks to the numbness we often feel in lives of complacency. The statement was attributed to the Greek 20th century poet, George Sefaris (circa 1939) in a book I read called Inventing Paradise by Edmund Keeley. It was an account of the so-called “generation of the 30s,” writers who cut their teeth during the years surrounding World War II in Greece, many from the exile to which they fled during the German invasion. It chronicled their activities and lifestyles through the war, the Greek occupation and the subsequent civil war. The book was primarily about Henry Miller and his friendship with many notable Greek nationalist poets, and it contained beautiful excerpts from some of their writings–many of which were not political in nature, but told the story of daily life in their homeland. George Sefaris was one of those poets. He spent much of his early life in exile, but later became a diplomat and was the first Greek to be awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1963.

In reading the book, I found it very compelling that through writing so vividly about life as a Greek, poets like Sefaris tapped into common thoughts and hopes that transcend geography. Such is the way of poetry! Henry Miller wrote of George Sefaris that he “had begun to ripen into a universal poet–by passionately rooting himself into the soil of his people.”

So, why am I writing this now? On this, the eighth anniversary of the September 11th attacks on our country, I’m thinking about the pitfalls of freedom–how though we are jarred from our slumber, we often so quickly slip back into its complacency. I almost forgot about 9/11. Eight years ago we were riveted to our computers and radios at my office. The second plane hit the towers shortly after I got to work. By the time we got out of a scheduled client meeting, the towers were down. This week it’s been just a fleeting thought.

As I often do, I was looking through one of my old journals this week and found my notes from Inventing Paradise, including Sefaris’ quote, and I could clearly remember the vivid thought process surrounding Keeley’s description of that time period. I read the book in 2000, a year before the attacks of September 11th. In my journal entries, I recorded how accounts of the German occupation of Greece and the subsequent exile of many citizens reminded me that the only reason I can learn about some of the atrocities that occurred then is that those poets and statesmen survived. The stories of the ones who were murdered can only be pieced together, and some may never be told.

In 2001 we had the benefit of video cameras, cell phones, impromptu photographers and all that 21st century technology has to offer to record the events of 9/11. We have amazing collections of photos like those from the LIFE collection above documenting the heroism of so many. Still, some stories are only pieced together, and some may never be told. In these past eight years, the concerns, red or orange alerts and daily images of destruction have diminished. The shock and horror are not nearly as acute. And, though it’s colored much of our public and social policy, at times in the day to day it’s so forgettable.

My how freedom so easily settles into complacency of spirit. We live in the excess of a generation who has never known famine, lasting fear or often the sacrifice required by honor. My generation. September 11, 2001 only gave us a glimpse. Sadly enough, our freedom is often taken for granted because we only know how to be free. We’ve never experienced anything else. The events of 9/11 were the closest my generation has come to thinking our freedom was in real jeopardy–and even that jeopardy has turned more into an outrage and a springboard for the hot button issue du jour.  When I read about the pervasive apathy or disillusionment associated with “generation X,” I wonder. What do we have to be disillusioned about? We’ve lived our whole lives in the lap of freedom’s luxury. Entrenched in freedom, I can so easily default to laziness, restlessness, and ingratitude–to being asleep to the things that really matter, to the responsibilities inherent in this place of freedom. George Sefaris’ observation of 70 years ago is telling. Have I become lulled by my excess, my good fortune to have been born free and my privelege to have been granted freedom for all my life? Have I settled again into slumber, into contentedly closing my eyes to the world and the stories I encounter each day? Am I sleepwalking through this life of freedom?

Respect

“I am an American and a Catholic; I love my country and treasure my faith. But I do not assume that my conception of patriotism or policy is invariably correct, or that my convictions about religion should command any greater respect than any other faith in this pluralistic society.”

“When people agree on public policy, they ought to be able to work together, even while they worship in diverse ways. For truly, we are all yoked together as Americans, and the yoke is the happy one of individual freedom and mutual respect.”

“I hope for an America where no president, no public official, no individual will ever be deemed a greater or lesser American because of religious doubt — or religious belief.

I hope for an America where the power of faith will always burn brightly, but where no modern inquisition of any kind will ever light the fires of fear, coercion, or angry division.

I hope for an America where we can all contend freely and vigorously, but where we will treasure and guard those standards of civility which alone make this nation safe for both democracy and diversity.”

~ Ted Kennedy
“Faith, Truth & Tolerance in America”
Liberty Baptist College
October 3, 1983

In Memoriam: Thank you, Sir, for your years of undaunted service. For those, you have earned my respect.

Tues Ten 061609: Iran

Sorry folks, the Ten Tuesday Tickles in the way of GREAT design and style blogs I’ve been obsessed with this month will have to wait.  Holy Revolutionbrew, Twatman! I’m just too astounded by the situation in Iran and the amazing power of Twitter. My social media guru followees have been trying to get us to buy in, and until now I’ve just seen Twitter as a gigantic cocktail party in which I’m an eavesdropping wallflower. But, the events of the last two days have convinced me that this formidable outlet for citizen media has real power beyond “I just downed another cup of coffee” and “Here, read my latest blog post”.

10 amazing things/events/whatever about revolutions/free speech/life learned from Iran and Twitter:

1. Twitter postponed a scheduled maintenance shutdown because of the vital role the service was playing in accessing information in and out of Iran. They embrace their own potential. (Can’t see FB doing that, honestly)

2. The Iranian government disallowed any foreign journalists from reporting events outside their offices and from providing video footage. Censorship is alive and well, and used as a real weapon for oppression.

3. People on the ground in Tehran were actually working to confirm or deny reports that were coming out. I saw multiple tweets from freedom supporters disavowing incorrect reports of army activities, etc.

4. There are actually some hard-to-believe realities and guidelines about using something like Twitter to support global activities. See this link.

5. Get to know the cyber ins and outs because oppressors and dictators do. I “reTweeted” (twat?) the above link from it’s original site and 10 minutes later the web page had been pulled and an “account suspended” notice posted. Later it was posted again on the site listed. Can’t promise it will remain there.

6. Unlike the comfort of my upstairs office, some of the people tweeting from Iran are in REAL, not imagined danger. They might not be here tomorrow. Yes, we still live in that world.

7. ABC’s morph into Presidential TV on July 24 for a sell-job on healthcare reform is looking a little Ahmadinejad-ish.

8. Are there actual people out there who really don’t understand that David Letterman was talking about Bristol Palin and not her 14-year-old sister? Inappropriate bad joke in poor taste aside, do we really need to manufacture an “outrage” when there’s one staring us right in the face?

9. People everywhere just wanna be free. (Thank you, Rascals) You can’t get a good freedom movement down. It’s why totalitarian regimes don’t work in the end.

10. Words have power, and it’s my right and privilege to use them. Own it. Take responsibility for it. Make it count.