Category Archives: civic commentary

The United States of Haiti.

February 20, 2016civic commentary, commentary, Deep Questions, slum culture, social behavior, social commentary, sociologyBernie Sanders, Democratic socialists, Doctors Without Borders, Haiti, HIV/AIDS, Huffington Post, Humanitarians against disease, Jimmy Carter, Phil Donahue, political corruption, power elite, strength in numbers, the 1%, Zika virusruth ann scanzillo

How many of us are old enough to remember the first time anybody heard about the AIDS crisis?

It was Phil Donahue, hosting his pioneering talk show, who broke the story. I was waiting tables in the local Greek dinor, spelled with an “o”, and caught the episode hours before heading to work to serve the 3rd shift bar rush, already all too familiar with the population to whom this revelation would soon become paramount.

The year was, I think, 1981. My elder brother was assistant director at the local diagnostic laboratory. Though I urged him to take note of the Donahue show’s disclosure, he knew nothing, as yet – no official information had come through the “wire” – and, being a scientist, he wasn’t about to take seriously any press release that hadn’t been sanctioned by the hierarchy to which he was beholden.

However, eventually we all knew the truth. Behavior, in American society, would begin its slow, resistant slog through the paradigm shift which ensued. Condoms, so said my oldest male friend, felt like wet socks; this would take some time.

At first, the crisis seemed remote; we neither knew anybody, nor knew of anybody, stricken with AIDS. We wondered; we might have even suspected; but, none of us knew.

Gradually, the epidemic manifested. Sourcing its roots on another continent, we would soon realize that the infection was essentially world wide.

But, far less likely realized by the mainstream, one tiny country would be hardest hit: Haiti. And, what this illustrated would become far more revelatory in its implications than the disease itself.

Haiti was utterly infested with AIDS. And, the reasons were socio-economic; the island nation was a suppressed people, its vast majority of citizens living in abject poverty. And, the reason for this was, while simple, profound: the leadership of this country was among the most corrupt in the world.

Yes; during the 1980s, illiteracy in Haiti was a huge problem. French being the national language, the poor spoke Creole and efforts to coerce them away from their native dialect were allegedly unsuccessful. Communication, therefore, was impossible – but, so was advancement. Politically, this was enabling; pernicious corruption had led to a massive wealth monopoly amongst the power elite, from which nary a vapor would waft in the direction of the enormous, ignorant, remaining population.

Smell familiar?

There are those who call me prone to hyperbole. I’m guilty of seeing potential for the drastic in the most mundane. But, do we not see any writing on the wall?

The longer we allow the gulph to widen between the monopolizing 1% and the body of our own increasingly financially dependent population, the more infested we are likely to become – by despair, resentment, hostility. And, yes; even disease. Only, now, many of us wonder just which puppeteers have the latest virus in their bag of tricks.

The sheer square mileage of our purple mountains and fruited plains could be dwarfed, compressed in a small amount of time by an infectious agent – or, worse – some alleged antidote marketed as a preventive. There are far too many of us still willing to remain impressionable, malleable, and subject, forgetting that there is still strength in numbers. Come. Let us reason, t.o.g.e.t.h.e.r. Instead of rallying behind a single voice promising to protect us from threat, only to hedge its own invested bets, shouldn’t we rather band together as a unified flank, and protect ourselves?

littlebarefeetblog.com

Making My Day.

February 12, 2016civic commentary, contemplative essays, gratitude, nostalgia, Uncategorizedruth ann scanzillo

Maybe it’s something as simple as the position of the sun. Or, whatever orb is responsible for illuminating our firmament around these parts anymore. I’ve learned to question everything, of late, and the legitimacy of the physical world which we’ve taken for granted over the past century or so also lands at the feet of the speculative unknown. Let alone what’s worthy — what’s real, for God’s sake?

But, for whatever cause, there’s a pronounced dreariness in the atmosphere. We’re forced to listen to candidates for the highest office in our land remind us of partisan deadlock and incipient corruption. Our Commonwealth is in chaos. Our local school district teeters on the brink of bankruptcy. Our regional cultural institution caves to the aesthetically vacant and self-serving monied, promising to destroy instead of preserve. Our community water supply joins the burgeoning list of the lead contaminated. Our regional sick take dutiful trips to the local treatment center to receive their poison, courtesy the insidious medical industrial complex. Half of our formerly employed wonder where their next paycheck will come from. And, another winter storm warning promises the threat of total social shut down, just in time for Valentine’s Day.

The only solution seems to be to move toward minimalism. Get small. Pull in. Seek the kernels, the seeds, the gems. Look within.

When we were children, curling up on a comfy sofa or the middle of our own bed with a really good book was one of life’s singular pleasures. Having a simple sandwich. Listening to a beautiful song – maybe even singing one. Taking a walk past nearby trees, untouched by any greater agenda than to keep on growing. This, to an adult looking back, a symbolic image of living within our means. And, back then, many of us were happy to do just that.

I write this to remind myself. When did all the ugliness descend? How many years had we already wasted, fretting over things outside of the realm of our own influence? We can begin every morning, each recreating our own parameters for complete freedom. Deciding to do so will make all the difference between submitting to the oppressiveness that surrounds us, and having one, singular sunny day.

Take It, Personally. *

January 9, 2016Christian fundamentalism, civic commentary, commentary, contemplative essays, Deep Thoughts, family history, human behavior, psychology, sociology, The Art of Practicing Institute 2015democracy, freedom of choice, hierarchy in management, inner life, Julian Assange, personalization, subserviation, the meditation movement, unrealized dreams, voter fraud, what happened to meritocracy?, what threatens our institutionsruth ann scanzillo

*[FINAL DRAFT.]

Anxiety.

The community of social workers and psychologists might say that, statistically, the increase in anxiety disorders within American culture has reached epidemic proportions. And, the drugs dispensed to treat such disorders have become almost commonplace.

But, why?

Perhaps one of the reasons our society is experiencing so much of the old angst is because we spend too much time personalizing the behavior of those around us.

We absorb everything that happens. And, this informs not just our reactions, but our very selves.

The whole meditation movement, which seems to be keeping pace with the increase in social ills, is really based in turning attention inward. But, finding our Selves, for many of us, is a real task.

When we first step inside, we’re hit with a rush of Presences. And, furthermore, most of those we recognize as populating the space we call our inner life are ones about whom we don’t feel particularly fond.

Yes; that first “visit” with Self is somewhat of a shock.

For most of us, those we encounter first are family predecessors. Parents, relatives, an older sibling, spouses of same. Alive or dead, these all appear. Next, those who populate the belief system around which we were raised. Believe it or not, no pun intended, such systems shape our realities from birth and should never be underestimated. And, then, perhaps the most present: the administrators, the bosses, the supervisors, even some colleagues. Seems that, wading through all these characters, we can hardly find ourselves. Indeed, the room is full!

And, it isn’t their smiling faces we see; rather, it is the symbolic spectre they impose. Each seems to be present precisely to pass will and judgment on our right to live according to that which expresses our fullest self.

Parents bequeath to us any number of their own unrealized dreams; siblings, their competitive edge. Priests, ministers, Sunday School teachers, with their visceral tales of admonishment and condemnation. Employers, supervisors, each with the agenda that propelled them into management, hell bent on subserviating us via the systems they peddle. Together, they fill our subconscious with a collectively Expert Opinion. It’s a wonder we can claim a single motive as our own.

Most recently, we have all been grappling with an even larger entity, one which – in contrast to those which bespeak our past – is quite foreboding: our government.

Why, in a country wherein, for generations, its people never had to give a second thought to the day to day impact of those in power, we are now faced with forces that seek to alter the very quality of our hours. Living at the behest, even the mercy, of these used to be what we’d read about in History or Social Studies classes – viewing photos of long lines of citizens, living in remote nations, waiting to receive allotted food or clothing.

Now, such a scenario doesn’t seem so far off.

Perhaps we feel this more acutely during an election year. We realize that our government is designed to include, even welcome, our input – but, we feel less and less valued by that system. We are no longer sure that our vote will either matter or even be fairly counted. In fact, we’ve learned to suspect that the structure of our democracy has been intractably corrupted.

And, all of this compounds. When we awaken, there is an unspecified restlessness that meets us. It’s as if, by setting our feet on the floor beside the bed, we are opening the door of our psyche and letting them all in. And, they come, running.

Maybe some of us feel like this because of time of life. If we have lived beyond the developing years, the embarking years, the ambitious years, the competitive years, we’ve reached an established point of alleged arrival. The Now, for someone of our generation, is the Future for which we all planned.

And, plan we did.

We thought that, along with the modest financial freedom that came with foresight and diligence, the serenity and bliss that was sure to come from the belief that we had done the right thing would follow. Surprise; the scene is far from idyllic. Now, every constant upon which we based our decisions seems threatened.

Each of us needs to make greater effort, each day, to face the mirror in true solitude. We only think that those around us are watching and listening. They aren’t. They only see others as either a help or a hindrance to their own goals. While there may be a hierarchy in our niche of the world, we do not have to live as if our position within it is either dictated or determined. Change is still far from a luxury, and outcomes are potentially as varied as the paths open before us. At any moment, the only aspect of human behavior we really should personalize is the next step we, alone, will take.

And, take it we must, while we are still free.
.
.
.
.
.

littlebarefeetblog.com