Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Looking Through The Distorted Looking Glass

Finally, it's Saturday.  It was a long week.  Air conditioner after air conditioner.  Fixing.  Patching.  Re-wiring.  Repairing.  This is what summer brings.  And, in defense of summer's toll on my body and patience, there is the financial reward.  As long as I take the phone calls.  And show up.  And do the job.  It's actually pretty amazing how the precious dollar can motivate a man.  Or woman.  Or even a child.  I remember my grandpa used to pay me a dime to open the gate leading back to the barn in close proximity to the house we lived in.  Although I can barely remember the exact scene, I still remember how exciting that dime felt in the palm of my hand.  I guess Grandpa was a genius in that way.  Give a child a small example of work and the reward for that work and so begins a life of making money.  Because Grandpa also knew money would always be a factor in my future.  Or, he was really lazy and didn't want to get off that tractor to open the gate himself.  But I tend to go with my first theory.  Actually, I think it had more to do with love than anything else.  There was joy in his eyes watching the joy in mine when he handed me that dime.  From that early age, and even still today, I enjoy change in my pocket.  As long as there's a little change I'm not broke.

I guess that small lesson, repeated often, was one of many I learned early in life.  There were times I watched my father in pain from the efforts put forth in his work.  But even with the pain my father would still get up around 3 (or 4 - I couldn't read a clock back then) and do it all over again the next day.  My mom, even today approaching the 3/4 mark on a century, still feels pride from performing a hard day's work.  Those who surrounded me growing up, and still today, do not always confess to the hours and pain but there is that gleam in their eyes from a paycheck and completing another day.  Even when my shirt's soaked with sweat and my body's begging me to stop, I know there is the monetary and self-worth reward that awaits if I can just finish.  I believe, even from the creation of the world itself, man was designed to work and accomplish.  And there is fulfillment in working and accomplishment.  It is not our only role in life but is a crucial element in our existence.  It really does complete us.

I thought of this while working in a house yesterday.  Actually, a conversation I held with the tenant brought me to revelations about myself and those around me.  She (her identity will remain anonymous due to my lack of knowledge of her name) asked me my thoughts on the hiring practices of several entities such as the fire department and police department.  She wanted to know why black men couldn't get jobs.  Her mind was on Ferguson, Missouri.  Her first question regarded the hiring of prison guards. She also made reference to the knowledge that her own black community had many young, black men who weren't working.  She also acknowledged the fact that many, and she stressed the point that it was "all" the young men she knew - still speaking of the young black men - did not even have an interest in working.  I don't know if this had to do with her confusion over my ethnicity (it took some convincing on my part to let her know I wasn't a black man myself although I am very tan right now and my hispanic lineage attests to that) but she thought my opinion had some relevance.  In her defense she was over eighty years old and her eyesight may have not been that accurate.  I could see she was referring to the lack of black men and woman in certain prominant roles in our community.  My answer, after my declaration of non-blackness, was interesting to her.  As a business owner and sole-proprieter, I would not hire someone who was not qualified to do a good job.  I don't care what skin color they possessed.  What I care about is what that person is CAPABLE of doing.  I asked her if her house was on fire, and the ability of the fire fighter was insufficient, would it be important if they were black?  If the man or woman who showed up to enforce the laws of our community and state could not prevent her safety and welfare from being harmed, would she care if they were black or white?  Throughout the conversation we discussed her role in the NAACP and her involvement with many other groups and meetings within the community.  She could not understand why her seven black boys were all in relationships with white women.  "Why" she asked, "can't black girls marry black men?"  I offered her examples of reports from my daughter, while a student in a public high school, of the rudeness and loudness and overall anti-social behavior from black girls who got into fights.  The amount of fights, over boys and social standing, were predominantly from black girls.  At no point in our conversation was there rudeness or self-righteousness on either side.  She really wanted to know, from my perspective, why there were such problems.  On several occasions she mentioned the lack of desire for many of the black youth (she was mostly mentioning the men) on obtaining regular work or careers.  Sports and fame were the focus.  Why was that?  On many occasions she mentioned the lack of teaching black history.  I told her that in recent times, there has been a diluge of information on black history - especially within the schools.  Yes, I agreed, that in years past, there was problems in the disparity of black versus white in this area.  But, as I informed her, if you pay attention you can see many leadership positions held by people of color and female gender now.  It is not a dire and hopeless situation to succeed, for a young black man or woman, as evidenced years ago.  There is hope and opportunity for anyone.   I also mentioned this before breaking back to work on her evaporator coil - When a young man or woman hears nothing more than how little opportunity, or how the world prevents them from achieving success, can they ever succeed?  If they are surrounded by others of their own race, who continually see nothing but race, can they ever see themselves as nothing but a doomed black man or black woman?  My family and neighbors always demonstrated success around me as a child.  I saw many who thought it was just normal to get a job and succeed.  Whether I was teased or insulted as a child because of my lineage and ethnicity did not force me into a "poor me" way of living.  The question, I told her, that really needed to be discussed in her meetings with local leaders of the black community and others is simple - "How can we change from within rather than expecting and demanding that others change?"  You can never succeed or work or accomplish anything if it's not within yourself to do that.  And it starts at home.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

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