My issue with government

I realize that this post may attract or invite comments - inflammatory ones - that may become offensive. I ask, kindly, that you resist the urge to blow up my Facebook page or my blog with such comments. I welcome opposing viewpoints, when offered intelligently, concisely, and reverently. But please bear in mind that this blog - MY blog - is a representation of my own personal viewpoints, interpretations, and opinions. It is not now, nor has it ever, claimed to be matter of fact. Bearing that in mind, please enjoy the following offering:

As the campaign season is upon us, in full swing, we are constantly bombarded with messages about how we should think or feel about a topic, a candidate, or an issue. I, for one, have grown weary of being essentially mandated to pick between the lesser of two (or more) evils. I am tired of selecting my candidate from a list of mediocre choices, all of whom give me cause to begin searching for land-purchase opportunities in Canada or Central America. Quite frankly, the election process has me often more angry and confused than excited to exercise the privilege of casting a ballot. Anyone else feel this way? I want Camelot back.

More than that, however, I am growing frustrated at the level of stupidity the government must believe that I, or at the very least the whole of society, must possess. Why does government, in any form or fashion, get to dictate to me how I raise my kids or how I spend my money? Is it just me, or do some of these things seem completely unconstitutional? I give you the following two examples: (1) mandatory HPV vaccinations, and (2) "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" (DADT) and/or "gay marriage."

I begin with the HPV vaccination issue. HPV (human papillomavirus) is a sexually-transmitted disease that has been linked to cervical cancer in women. This link has recently been called into question with a study done by the CDC that showed that 95% of HPV-infected women did NOT get cervical cancer. Obviously, there is a lot of work to be done in this area, as the HPV studies are all relatively new and somewhat inconclusive. That aside, Governor Rick Perry signed an executive order in 2007 mandating all teen girls in the state of Texas get the HPV vaccine. This was later overturned by the state legislature, but not without harsh criticism from Perry, and serious opposition in his recent debates with other Republican presidential hopefuls. This particular issue irritated me. I have a daughter. Do I need government telling me to vaccinate my girl against an STD? Let me give my personal opinion on the matter. I would likely vaccinate her. In fact, I think it's a safe bet that I would and will vaccinate my daughter - all of my kids, actually - against any and all diseases if I knew for certain that it could and would eliminate, or at least drastically reduce, the probability that they would get the disease. That's just good parenting, if you ask me. My issue is this: why does the government get to decide what "good parenting" is? Why do legislators who don't even live in my neighborhood or send their kids to my schools get to decide what vaccines are needed and which are not? Oh, I know what you're thinking - she doesn't vaccinate?? No, I definitely do. And I believe everyone should - especially against very highly communicable diseases like measles, mumps, pertussis, etc. But HPV is a sexually-transmitted disease. It's transmitted during sexual contact, not coughing in the same classroom as my baby. Something like that, I believe, should be at the parent's discretion, not the government's. Isn't this also why we don't have mandatory birth control? Moreover, I hate the idea that government thinks I am such an idiot that I wouldn't look into issues to protect my child's health. I know there are plenty of morons in the world that don't, but it irritates me to be governed as if I'm one of them. Or governed by one of them... as a side note, Michele Bachmann, no study conducted thus far has shown the HPV vaccine to cause or be linked to mental retardation... apparently, that's just you.

Now we come to issue #2. The "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" issue. This could get sticky. See, I personally believe that marriage was created for a man and a woman. I personally believe that if a guy wants to make a promise to another guy to be faithful and monogamous, then he should certainly be allowed to do so through a "civil union" - a promise recognized by the state to receive benefits and rights as two humans who have vowed to run their household jointly. Just don't slap the label of "marriage" on it, because that word was set apart by God to represent the union that He created. I, in my heart, believe that such unions were intended for men and women to join, to create families, and to give rise to future generations that promote lineage. However, I don't believe that homosexuality is any more sinful than things that I do daily - lie, lust, mistreat my body, etc. Let's be real, folks: who among us does not sin? Hate to be the one to break it to you, but all sin - ALL SIN - is ugly and black and unholy and cannot be in the presence of a holy God. So we ALL fall short of the glory. ALL of us - homosexuals, heterosexuals, blacks, whites, rich, poor, whoever. No one escapes this life without sin. So why bother to point out how two dudes committing is so bad? I didn't realize that you hadn't ever done anything God wouldn't be proud of... just sayin'. Meanwhile, let's bring it back to the DADT policy. I never liked this policy, but I understood why it existed. Let's be real for a minute. We may all say we know a gay person and they are our best friend or whatever. But if we didn't know this person so well, would we be comfortable undressing in front of them? Sharing a bunk with them? A shower? Likely not. So if the majority of the military is "straight" and only a few are "gay", it seemed to make more sense to keep the gays quiet so our military could function. That sucks, but it seems to be at least logical. So now what? While I don't personally have any issue whatsoever with a person's sexuality, perhaps we need to look at it from a logistical standpoint. Furthermore, I have issue with ANY person in uniform having "inappropriate displays of affection" in uniform - whether you are kissing a guy or a chick. Bottom line here: the military is your job, and it is also your life. Perhaps the guidelines should be more strict across the board? No one needs to see anyone else's tongue down anyone's throat - regardless. Class it up, Department of Defense. And to the members of our military who think that since DADT is gone that they may flaunt about with their sexuality, remember this: you signed up to be a soldier/sailor/airman/marine/etc. FIRST, and an ordinary US citizen second - meaning that when you took the oath, you pledged to follow the military lifestyle with all of its rules, despite what you think is fair or cool or whatever. I know, because I took that oath once, too. It isn't easy - but that's the beauty of having a VOLUNTEER MILITARY - no one MADE you agree to this lifestyle. You agreed to it, deal with it. So, to wrap this up, I think that homosexual unions should be allowed, homosexuals should be allowed to serve in our military, and government should butt out of both of those instances. But the individuals who participate in those commitments - both civilian and military, gay and straight - should respect the commitments that they make, whether to one another or the government they serve.

I realize that I get worked up, and may sound harsh sometimes. I guess, for me, it's just super-frustrating to think that our government - which is of the people, for the people, and by the people - seems to represent only itself, not its constituents... unless it is that we are all completely silent, and unwilling to make our representatives hear how we feel. Or do we, the majority, really feel this way? I don't know. But I believe in the privilege of voting, and I encourage everyone to do so. No one gets the right to complain if you haven't cast your ballot.

E pluribus unum

As the ten-year anniversary of the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001 approaches, most of America seems to be in a state of reflection. I am no exception. It's difficult not to think about an event that changed the way the world looks at America, and the way America looks at the world.

Every American over the age of about 14 has a story about that day. Where they were, what they were doing, and who they were with. Again, I am no exception.

I boarded a train on Atlanta's north side and headed into my office downtown. I worked for SunTrust Bank as an Investment Specialist. Specifically, I worked in the SunTrust Securities office, collateralizing and securing deposits of government entities. It sounds more complicated than it was. However, it required me to attend monthly telephone meetings with traders in New York City to move and gain assets to cover the deposits held by our bank in the name of customers like the City of Baltimore. As I did most mornings, I sat on the train with dozens of other early-risers headed into the city. We didn't speak to one another, and often never raised our eyes above the newspaper to even acknowledge one another. The faint smell of cheap coffee rose above the smell of bus exhaust at the last stop before I would exit.

Once in downtown, I gathered my belongings and stood. Once the double doors opened, we made our way like herded cattle out of the station and onto the bustling city streets. Even at just 7:30 in the morning, downtown Atlanta was a busy city with people coming and going every which way. I headed to my building and pushed the button for the 23rd floor and waited - stopping at seemingly every floor. Finally, I made my way to my desk, stopping grab a cup of lukewarm coffee and settle in to my morning routine: checking my mail, sifting through my inbox, and checking my voicemail.

By 8:30, I had settled in the conference room for a meeting. Our entire team was on a conference call to our partners in New York, located in the World Trade Center. We began discussing our usual business. Not a lot of small talk, which I recall made my team uncomfortable. I recall my boss saying once of our New York partners, "they are rude and abrasive." Thinking of the accounts for which I was responsible in Maryland and Virginia, I asked about purchasing assets for collateral. Before my Yankee representative could finish discussing possible allocation, a strange "crinkle" noise came over the line, and then it went dead.

We were unable to reestablish our connection, and left the conference room bewildered. The televisions on our trading floor were on during business hours every day - usually tuned to Bloomberg TV. As we left the conference room and headed past the trading room floor and back to our offices, we caught a glimpse of a news reporter with a caption that read something like "world trade center fire". At that point, we had no idea that anything other a freak accident. We turned the volume up and listened as the reporter explained that an airplane had crashed into the World Trade Center. My heart sank a little. But before I had the chance to put together the events from the phone conference and the images of smoke plumes shooting out of the first World Trade Center tower, I watched an airliner drive into the second tower. And I had the sudden urge to vomit.

It was at that moment around 9:00 that I realized that what I was witnessing was no coincidence. We were unofficially, but undeniably, under attack. By whom? And why? How come we didn't know? Are we vulnerable everywhere? I was filled with a million questions, but even if I knew the words to speak, my tongue seemed to be swelling inside my mouth and my jaws felt as if they were locked tight. My knees seemed weak. I wasn't sure if I had begun to sweat through my suit, but I felt certain that I wouldn't be the only one. Everyone in the room seemed white as a ghost and almost immediately grief-stricken. I couldn't help but turn my eyes slightly left to peer out the windows. Only minutes from Atlanta's Hartsfield Airport, I had developed what previously had seemed like an irrational fear of rogue jets escaping the runway.

I decided to head back to my desk and figure out what work I might be able to put off to another time - a time of less distraction. After a few moments, I looked up and find a much larger crowd had gathered around the television. People I didn't recognize, perhaps from another floor or department. I stood up and made my way back to the television. As if in slow-motion like a dream, I saw something horrific and devastating: the south tower crumbled to the ground. I pulled my hands up to my mouth as if to keep a scream from escaping. I let out a gasp, just to keep myself from fainting.

I honestly don't remember the second tower collapsing. Everything in the next hour is a complete blur. I know that at some point I returned to my desk and gathered up my things, leaving my computer on and my voicemail inactivated. Our building manager informed us that the train service in Atlanta would likely be temporarily halted and that we should leave immediately. It seemed as if I hadn't even blinked, but had gotten myself off the train, into my car, and was putting my key into the lock. I went inside and immediately turned on the TV. I then learned that an airplane had hit the Pentagon, and another crashed into a field in Pennsylvania. The wave of nausea I felt before seemed to be rising up in me again and I needed to sit down. Then I remembered that I had a son, 2, waiting for me at a day care 20 minutes away. In a panic, I rushed to grab my keys and make my way to the school.

That evening I couldn't help but squeeze my baby boy a little tighter, and my husband a little closer. I now felt something I had never felt before: fear. I was afraid of an enemy I didn't know and couldn't see. I was afraid of being attacked for reasons I didn't know or understand. I was afraid and I didn't know how to be anything but.

In the past 10 years, I have grown used to the inconveniences associated with travel and the security associated with visiting any government building. I have seen firsthand the faces of war. The world is a very different place. And I have learned to accept life in a "post-9/11 world". But I have never forgotten that day.

My two younger children have never known life any different, and a part of me mourns for them. They don't remember being able to walk a family member to the gate at the airport, or not having to be fondled before going there. They don't remember a time of innocence in America. They don't remember a time we weren't involved in "the war on terror". The only "normal" they know is war - a war that took their family members away to a land halfway around the world to fight an enemy they couldn't find.

I often wish I could, but I can't forget that day. And I fear that I never will. But perhaps it is important to bear the burden of the memory... so that we may never be victimized again.

If I had to find silver lining it is this: we had become reunited with our fellow Americans. We forgot how we were different, if even just for a short time, to come together as American people. Out of many, we rose again as one...