Guest guest Posted September 19, 2001 Report Share Posted September 19, 2001 Thank you ! Re:Thank You - New Perspective ,thank you so much for bringing another perspective to view. We need to remember that we are all together on this planet. Minga Guerrero DC<< >>I've been hearing a lot of talk about "bombing Afghanistan back to the >>Stone >>Age." Ronn Owens, on KGO Talk Radio today, allowed that this would mean >>killing innocent people, people who had nothing to do with this atrocity, >>but "we're at war, we have to accept collateral damage. What else can we >>do?" Minutes later I heard some TV pundit discussing whether we "have the >>belly >>to do what must be done." And I thought about the issues being raised >>especially hard because I am from Afghanistan, and even though I've lived >>here for 35 years I've never lost track of what's going on there. So I >>want >>to tell anyone who will listen how it all looks from where I'm standing. >> >>I speak as one who hates the Taliban and Osama Bin Laden. >>There is no doubt in my mind that these people were responsible for the >>atrocity in New York. I agree that something must be done about those >>monsters. But the Taliban and Ben Laden are not Afghanistan. They're not >>even the government of Afghanistan. The Taliban are a cult of ignorant >>psychotics who took over Afghanistan in 1997. Bin Laden is a political >>criminal with a plan. >> >>When you think Taliban, think Nazis. When you think Bin Laden, think >>Hitler. >>And when you think "the people of Afghanistan" think "the Jews in the >>concentration camps." It's not only that the Afghan people had nothing to >>do with this atrocity. They were the first victims of the perpetrators. >>They would exult if someone would come in there, take out the Taliban and >>clear out the rats nest of international thugs holed up in their country. >> >>Some say, why don't the Afghans rise up and overthrow the Taliban? The >>answer is, they're starved, exhausted, hurt, incapacitated, suffering. >>A few years ago, the United Nations estimated that there are 500,000 >>disabled orphans in Afghanistan -- a country with no economy, no food. >>There >>are millions of widows. And the Taliban has been burying these widows >>alive >>in mass graves. The soil is littered with land mines, the farms were all >>destroyed by the Soviets. These are a few of the reasons why the Afghan >>people have not overthrown the Taliban. >> >>We come now to the question of bombing Afghanistan back to the Stone Age. >>Trouble is, that's been done. The Soviets took care of it already. Make >>the >>Afghans suffer? They're already suffering. Level their houses? Done. Turn >>their schools into piles of rubble? Done. Eradicate their hospitals? Done. >>Destroy their infrastructure? Cut them off from medicine and health care? >>Too late. Someone already did all that. New bombs would only stir the >>rubble of earlier bombs. Would they at least get the Taliban? Not likely. >> >>In today's Afghanistan, only the Taliban eat, only they have the means to >>move around. They'd slip away and hide. Maybe the bombs would get some of >>those disabled orphans, they don't move too fast, they don't even have >>wheelchairs. But flying over Kabul and dropping bombs wouldn't really be a >>strike against the criminals who did this horrific thing. Actually it >>would >>only be making common cause with the Taliban -- by raping once again the >>people they've been raping all this time. >> >>So what else is there? What can be done, then? >>Let me now speak with true fear and trembling. The only way to get Bin >>Laden >>is to go in there with ground troops. When people speak of "having the >>belly >>to do what needs to be done" they're thinking in terms of having the belly >>to kill as many as needed. Having the belly to overcome any moral qualms >>about killing innocent people. >> >>Let's pull our heads out of the sand. What's actually on the table is >>Americans dying. And not just because some Americans would die fighting >>their way through Afghanistan to Bin Laden's hideout. >>It's much bigger than that folks. Because to get any troops to >>Afghanistan, >>we'd have to go through Pakistan. Would they let us? Not likely. The >>conquest of Pakistan >>would have to be first. Will other Muslim nations just stand by? You see >>where I'm going. >> >>We're flirting with a world war between Islam and the West. >>And guess what: that's Bin Laden's program. That's exactly what he wants. >>That's why he did this. Read his speeches and statements. It's all right >>there. He really believes Islam would beat the west. It might seem >>ridiculous, but he figures if he can polarize the world into Islam and the >>West, he's got a billion soldiers. If the west wreaks a holocaust in those >>lands, that's a billion people with nothing left to lose, that's even >>better >>from Bin Laden's point of view. He's probably wrong, in the end the west >>would win, whatever that would mean, but the war would last for years and >>millions would die, not just theirs but ours. Who has the belly for that? >>Bin Laden does. Anyone else? >> >>Written By - Tamim Ansary >> >> >> >> >> Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 19, 2001 Report Share Posted September 19, 2001 Finding and dealing with the perpetrators of this heinous act is imperitive... But so is dealing with the larger issue. Hungry and miserable hordes are the easiest to herd by leaders spewing anger and venom (think Hitler and the angry and miserable Germans after WW I). If we continue to adjust the same segment in an individual because it gives temporary relief,but we do not identify the underlying cause (i.e. posture, egonomics, short leg, lifestyle...)we have not done anything to offer a solution or cure. If we bomb a bunch of Arab's cause it feels good but we don't deal with the underlying misery and intolerance we will only temporarily calm the situation. Is this the answer? Seitz, DC Tuality Physicians 730-D SE Oak St Hillsboro, OR 97123 >From: " Dr. Shephard, D.C. " <shep@...> ><AboWoman@...> >CC: " Doctors of Chiro Oregon " < > >Subject: Perspectives >Date: Wed, 19 Sep 2001 12:35:18 -0700 > >Minga, > >You are right, it's all about perspectives... > >But where are you going with your perspective? > >How about this for a perspective... > a.. More American's died last week in NYC than died in the Normandy >Beach invasion. > a.. More Americans died last week than in the attack on Pearl Harbor. > >And it should also be noted that these were military losses (targets), not >innocent civilians. > >So why are we talking about hypothetical orphaned Afghanistanian children? > >As an American, why do you adopt and promulgate such a perspective? > >You know what, I don't care about Afghanistanians. > >I care about New Yorkers. > >I care about our airline industry. > >I care about our freedom to move about in this country--by car, or bus or >plane--without the fear of having a bomb put in my back pocket. > >I care about Boeing going bankrupt. > >I care about our young soldiers that are now going to have put their lives >on-the-line. > >I don't give a damn about Afghanistan. > >I care about the free world and all those who have sacrificed their lives >and the lives of their loved ones to create the free world over the past >250 years. > >And as for the real issue were all tap dancing around right now--that is, >what actions the US military and intelligence is going to take in the near >future, I would also recall: what were our retaliatory measures for >Hitler's aggression and the aggression of the Japanese? > >answer: > 1.. the devastation and eventual occupation of Germany and, > 2.. the dropping of two atomic bombs on Japan. > >So why should we expect anything less now in the realm of military hell >fire? > >I say we shouldn't expect anything less. We should prepare ourselves >mentally and physically for the most horrific retaliation and consequence >(WW3) possible, because this may be a reality. > >So what will it take now to gain back control of the security of our >shores, safety of our people, and to bring peace once again to the free >world? > >We had over 5000 innocent people murdered, senselessly last Tuesday. > >Do you honestly expect compassion to remedy this disorder? > >So you contend that pacifism is the position to adopt to now bring order to >the world? > >Unlikely. > >scott s. > > > > _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 19, 2001 Report Share Posted September 19, 2001 " If we continue to adjust the same segment in an individual because it gives temporary > relief,but we do not identify the underlying cause (i.e. posture, egonomics, > short leg, lifestyle...)we have not done anything to offer a solution or > cure. If we bomb a bunch of Arab's cause it feels good but we don't deal > with the underlying misery and intolerance we will only temporarily calm the > situation. " What if we adjust the Arabs and bomb the subluxations? D Freeman Mailing address: 2480 Liberty Street NE Suite 180 Salem, Oregon 97303 phone 503 763-3528 fax 503 763-3530 pager 888 501-7328 Perspectives > >Date: Wed, 19 Sep 2001 12:35:18 -0700 > > > >Minga, > > > >You are right, it's all about perspectives... > > > >But where are you going with your perspective? > > > >How about this for a perspective... > > a.. More American's died last week in NYC than died in the Normandy > >Beach invasion. > > a.. More Americans died last week than in the attack on Pearl Harbor. > > > >And it should also be noted that these were military losses (targets), not > >innocent civilians. > > > >So why are we talking about hypothetical orphaned Afghanistanian children? > > > >As an American, why do you adopt and promulgate such a perspective? > > > >You know what, I don't care about Afghanistanians. > > > >I care about New Yorkers. > > > >I care about our airline industry. > > > >I care about our freedom to move about in this country--by car, or bus or > >plane--without the fear of having a bomb put in my back pocket. > > > >I care about Boeing going bankrupt. > > > >I care about our young soldiers that are now going to have put their lives > >on-the-line. > > > >I don't give a damn about Afghanistan. > > > >I care about the free world and all those who have sacrificed their lives > >and the lives of their loved ones to create the free world over the past > >250 years. > > > >And as for the real issue were all tap dancing around right now--that is, > >what actions the US military and intelligence is going to take in the near > >future, I would also recall: what were our retaliatory measures for > >Hitler's aggression and the aggression of the Japanese? > > > >answer: > > 1.. the devastation and eventual occupation of Germany and, > > 2.. the dropping of two atomic bombs on Japan. > > > >So why should we expect anything less now in the realm of military hell > >fire? > > > >I say we shouldn't expect anything less. We should prepare ourselves > >mentally and physically for the most horrific retaliation and consequence > >(WW3) possible, because this may be a reality. > > > >So what will it take now to gain back control of the security of our > >shores, safety of our people, and to bring peace once again to the free > >world? > > > >We had over 5000 innocent people murdered, senselessly last Tuesday. > > > >Do you honestly expect compassion to remedy this disorder? > > > >So you contend that pacifism is the position to adopt to now bring order to > >the world? > > > >Unlikely. > > > >scott s. > > > > > > > > > > _________________________________________________________________ > Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp > > > > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 19, 2001 Report Share Posted September 19, 2001 We have to all aggree on the definition/nature of the subluxation first! Seitz, DC Tuality Physicians 730-D SE Oak St Hillsboro, OR 97123 >From: " Dr. Freeman " <drmfreeman@...> > " Oregon DCs " < > >Subject: Re: Perspectives >Date: Wed, 19 Sep 2001 15:02:25 -0700 > > " If we continue to adjust the same segment in an individual because it >gives >temporary > > relief,but we do not identify the underlying cause (i.e. posture, >egonomics, > > short leg, lifestyle...)we have not done anything to offer a solution or > > cure. If we bomb a bunch of Arab's cause it feels good but we don't >deal > > with the underlying misery and intolerance we will only temporarily calm >the > > situation. " > >What if we adjust the Arabs and bomb the subluxations? > > D Freeman >Mailing address: 2480 Liberty Street NE Suite 180 >Salem, Oregon 97303 >phone 503 763-3528 >fax 503 763-3530 >pager 888 501-7328 > > Perspectives > > >Date: Wed, 19 Sep 2001 12:35:18 -0700 > > > > > >Minga, > > > > > >You are right, it's all about perspectives... > > > > > >But where are you going with your perspective? > > > > > >How about this for a perspective... > > > a.. More American's died last week in NYC than died in the Normandy > > >Beach invasion. > > > a.. More Americans died last week than in the attack on Pearl >Harbor. > > > > > >And it should also be noted that these were military losses (targets), >not > > >innocent civilians. > > > > > >So why are we talking about hypothetical orphaned Afghanistanian >children? > > > > > >As an American, why do you adopt and promulgate such a perspective? > > > > > >You know what, I don't care about Afghanistanians. > > > > > >I care about New Yorkers. > > > > > >I care about our airline industry. > > > > > >I care about our freedom to move about in this country--by car, or bus >or > > >plane--without the fear of having a bomb put in my back pocket. > > > > > >I care about Boeing going bankrupt. > > > > > >I care about our young soldiers that are now going to have put their >lives > > >on-the-line. > > > > > >I don't give a damn about Afghanistan. > > > > > >I care about the free world and all those who have sacrificed their >lives > > >and the lives of their loved ones to create the free world over the >past > > >250 years. > > > > > >And as for the real issue were all tap dancing around right now--that >is, > > >what actions the US military and intelligence is going to take in the >near > > >future, I would also recall: what were our retaliatory measures for > > >Hitler's aggression and the aggression of the Japanese? > > > > > >answer: > > > 1.. the devastation and eventual occupation of Germany and, > > > 2.. the dropping of two atomic bombs on Japan. > > > > > >So why should we expect anything less now in the realm of military hell > > >fire? > > > > > >I say we shouldn't expect anything less. We should prepare ourselves > > >mentally and physically for the most horrific retaliation and >consequence > > >(WW3) possible, because this may be a reality. > > > > > >So what will it take now to gain back control of the security of our > > >shores, safety of our people, and to bring peace once again to the free > > >world? > > > > > >We had over 5000 innocent people murdered, senselessly last Tuesday. > > > > > >Do you honestly expect compassion to remedy this disorder? > > > > > >So you contend that pacifism is the position to adopt to now bring >order >to > > >the world? > > > > > >Unlikely. > > > > > >scott s. > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > _________________________________________________________________ > > Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at >http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp > > > > > > > > > > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 19, 2001 Report Share Posted September 19, 2001 <snip> >What if we adjust the Arabs and bomb the subluxations? > > D Freeman Well, I do remember one philosophically minded chiro who thought that if we had only been able to adjust Hitler, there would have been no WWII. Terry Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 19, 2001 Report Share Posted September 19, 2001 Best idea I have heard yet maybe we should send a special team over. Steve Kinne Perspectives > > >Date: Wed, 19 Sep 2001 12:35:18 -0700 > > > > > >Minga, > > > > > >You are right, it's all about perspectives... > > > > > >But where are you going with your perspective? > > > > > >How about this for a perspective... > > > a.. More American's died last week in NYC than died in the Normandy > > >Beach invasion. > > > a.. More Americans died last week than in the attack on Pearl Harbor. > > > > > >And it should also be noted that these were military losses (targets), > not > > >innocent civilians. > > > > > >So why are we talking about hypothetical orphaned Afghanistanian > children? > > > > > >As an American, why do you adopt and promulgate such a perspective? > > > > > >You know what, I don't care about Afghanistanians. > > > > > >I care about New Yorkers. > > > > > >I care about our airline industry. > > > > > >I care about our freedom to move about in this country--by car, or bus or > > >plane--without the fear of having a bomb put in my back pocket. > > > > > >I care about Boeing going bankrupt. > > > > > >I care about our young soldiers that are now going to have put their > lives > > >on-the-line. > > > > > >I don't give a damn about Afghanistan. > > > > > >I care about the free world and all those who have sacrificed their lives > > >and the lives of their loved ones to create the free world over the past > > >250 years. > > > > > >And as for the real issue were all tap dancing around right now--that is, > > >what actions the US military and intelligence is going to take in the > near > > >future, I would also recall: what were our retaliatory measures for > > >Hitler's aggression and the aggression of the Japanese? > > > > > >answer: > > > 1.. the devastation and eventual occupation of Germany and, > > > 2.. the dropping of two atomic bombs on Japan. > > > > > >So why should we expect anything less now in the realm of military hell > > >fire? > > > > > >I say we shouldn't expect anything less. We should prepare ourselves > > >mentally and physically for the most horrific retaliation and consequence > > >(WW3) possible, because this may be a reality. > > > > > >So what will it take now to gain back control of the security of our > > >shores, safety of our people, and to bring peace once again to the free > > >world? > > > > > >We had over 5000 innocent people murdered, senselessly last Tuesday. > > > > > >Do you honestly expect compassion to remedy this disorder? > > > > > >So you contend that pacifism is the position to adopt to now bring order > to > > >the world? > > > > > >Unlikely. > > > > > >scott s. > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > _________________________________________________________________ > > Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp > > > > > > > > > > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 19, 2001 Report Share Posted September 19, 2001 Perhaps a little St. 's Wort in the water also. sharron fuchs dc Re: Perspectives Best idea I have heard yet maybe we should send a special team over. Steve Kinne Perspectives > > >Date: Wed, 19 Sep 2001 12:35:18 -0700 > > > > > >Minga, > > > > > >You are right, it's all about perspectives... > > > > > >But where are you going with your perspective? > > > > > >How about this for a perspective... > > > a.. More American's died last week in NYC than died in the Normandy > > >Beach invasion. > > > a.. More Americans died last week than in the attack on Pearl Harbor. > > > > > >And it should also be noted that these were military losses (targets), > not > > >innocent civilians. > > > > > >So why are we talking about hypothetical orphaned Afghanistanian > children? > > > > > >As an American, why do you adopt and promulgate such a perspective? > > > > > >You know what, I don't care about Afghanistanians. > > > > > >I care about New Yorkers. > > > > > >I care about our airline industry. > > > > > >I care about our freedom to move about in this country--by car, or bus or > > >plane--without the fear of having a bomb put in my back pocket. > > > > > >I care about Boeing going bankrupt. > > > > > >I care about our young soldiers that are now going to have put their > lives > > >on-the-line. > > > > > >I don't give a damn about Afghanistan. > > > > > >I care about the free world and all those who have sacrificed their lives > > >and the lives of their loved ones to create the free world over the past > > >250 years. > > > > > >And as for the real issue were all tap dancing around right now--that is, > > >what actions the US military and intelligence is going to take in the > near > > >future, I would also recall: what were our retaliatory measures for > > >Hitler's aggression and the aggression of the Japanese? > > > > > >answer: > > > 1.. the devastation and eventual occupation of Germany and, > > > 2.. the dropping of two atomic bombs on Japan. > > > > > >So why should we expect anything less now in the realm of military hell > > >fire? > > > > > >I say we shouldn't expect anything less. We should prepare ourselves > > >mentally and physically for the most horrific retaliation and consequence > > >(WW3) possible, because this may be a reality. > > > > > >So what will it take now to gain back control of the security of our > > >shores, safety of our people, and to bring peace once again to the free > > >world? > > > > > >We had over 5000 innocent people murdered, senselessly last Tuesday. > > > > > >Do you honestly expect compassion to remedy this disorder? > > > > > >So you contend that pacifism is the position to adopt to now bring order > to > > >the world? > > > > > >Unlikely. > > > > > >scott s. > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > _________________________________________________________________ > > Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp > > > > > > > > > > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted March 9, 2002 Report Share Posted March 9, 2002 something touching Hi, This should give you something to think about.I don't normally forwarded things, but I wanted to share this one.Perspectives....This will give you cold chills, but puts life into perspective!At a fund-raising dinner for a school that serves learning-disabled children, the father of one of the school's students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question."Everything God does is done with perfection. Yet, my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is God's plan reflected in my son?" The audience was stilled by the query. The father continued. "I believe," the father answered, "that when God brings a child like Shay into the world, an opportunity to realize the Divine Plan presents itself. And it comes in the way people treat that child."Then, he told the following story:Shay and his father had walked past apark where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, "Do you think they will let me play?" Shay's father knew that most boys would not want him on their team. But the father understood that if his son were allowed to play it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging.Shay's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance from his teammates. Getting none, he took matters into his own hands and said, "We are losing by six runs, and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him up to bat in the ninth inning." In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three.At the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the outfield. Although no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands.In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base. Shay was scheduled to be the next at-bat. Would the team actually let Shay bat at this juncture and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher moved a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least be able to make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed.The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly toward Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball to the pitcher. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could easily have thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have ended the game.Instead, the pitcher took the ball and threw it on a high arc to right field, far beyond reach of the first baseman. Everyone started yelling, "Shay, run to first. Run to first." Never in his life had Shay ever made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.Everyone yelled "Run to second, run to second!" By the time Shay was rounding first base, the right fielder had the ball. He could have thrown the ball to the second baseman for a tag. But the right fielder understood what the pitcher's intentions had been, so he threw the ball high and far over the third baseman's head. Shay ran towards second base as the runners ahead of him deliriously circled the bases towards home.As Shay reached second base, the opposing shortstop ran to him, turned him in the direction of third base, and shouted, "Run to third!" As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams were screaming, "Shay! Run home!"Shay ran home, stepped on home plate and was cheered as the hero, for hitting a "grand slam" and winning the game for his team."That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of the Divine Plan into this world."And now, a footnote to the story. We all send thousands of jokes through e-mail without a second thought, but when it comes to sending messages regarding life choices, people think twice about sharing. The crude, vulgar, and sometimes the obscene pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion of decency is too often suppressed in school and the workplace.If you are thinking about forwarding this message, you are probably thinking about which people on your address list aren't the "appropriate" ones to receive this type of message. The person who sent this to you believes that we can all make a difference. We all have thousands of opportunities a day to help realize your God's plan. So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice: Do we pass along a spark of the Divine? Or do we pass up that opportunity, and leave the world a bit colder in the process?You have two choices now:1. Delete this.2. Forward it to the people you care about.You know the choice I made. ---Outgoing mail is certified Virus Free.Checked by AVG anti-virus system (http://www.grisoft.com).Version: 6.0.320 / Virus Database: 179 - Release Date: 30/01/2002 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted March 10, 2002 Report Share Posted March 10, 2002 LOVED IT !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THANKS Helen something touching "Encourage one another. Many times a word of praise or thanks or appreciation or cheer has kept people on their feet." - Swindoll Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted July 8, 2003 Report Share Posted July 8, 2003 Passing this on with permission. Please include the author if you continue it. I think I will do exactly what she wanted to do....great idea. Melinda, ironic timing too. Hope the trip back goes better. I get looks too from parent's that can't understand why I have to bring a double stroller and pick up my 4 yr old so we can leave the park! We don't always have a problem but enough to where I don't leave home without it. Johanna I don't know if y'all might be interested in this, or not. Writing is my outlet when I am feeling stressed or overwhelmed. Usually, I write stories (sci-fi fan fiction) where I can take out my stress on imaginary characters -- hehe), but in moments when I feel overwhelmed about the future's uncertainty, I will write about personal experiences. Such as this one.  This story is based on something that happened about five years. It's been fictionalized -- my son is not exactly like the boy in the story -- but the overall events are true. And I can still feel the emotions as if it happened yesterday.  Maggie  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  Perspectives ©Maggie Hutchinson 2003  " I would never let my child behave like that. "  The words, spoken with a biting tone that stung as much as if the woman had struck me, rang in my ears. My face flushed, burned. My heart was thumping. I snapped my head in the direction of the voice. Two women stood together, staring my way, shoulder to shoulder, a smug superiority written in their stance as they gazed on in judgment.   *I would never let my child behave like that.*  At my feet, my son, Jack, laid kicking and screaming, his voice echoing through the Wal-Mart with a shrill, piercing pitch. Impossible to ignore.  The two women leaned in to further discuss the scene before them, their voices now inaudible but the slight shake of a head unmistakable. No decent parent would let their child behave like this in public.  Let. Let? If they only knew. I wanted to cry, to yell, to scream at them. Let?  Instead, I turned away, taking a deep, shaking breath, and gazed at Jack. He was quiet now, for the moment, tired from the exertion. His 4-year-old face was flushed and his dark hair damp with sweat against his forehead. His eyebrows furrowed as he glared not at me but just past me. The fury might be past, or the respite might be temporary. I switched my own gaze to a spot on the floor next to him, not making eye contact but still watching him, waiting.  My own ire burned deep in my chest. I wanted to confront those women, those nameless moral adjudicators of my family, of my life, of my child. But I felt frozen, torn, knowing that my main concern was Jack. They had moved on, anyway, bored with the scene but satisfied, knowing that I had heard them. Their message had been communicated, along with the implication that they were the superior parents.  Jack appeared to be calming. His breaths were slower, his face less tense. It would be temporary, I knew, however. But I had no choice. My greatest desire was to escape, to just get out of that wide open department store where everyone would look at us and see the surface reflection: a 4-year-old boy, normal by all appearances, who had learned that throwing a tantrum would get him what he wanted. A spoiled child with weak parents. It was always the parents. If they would just apply a little discipline, bother to teach their child, this would never happen.  Fives minutes earlier Jack had been the content, typical child, trailing behind his mother as we shopped for clothes in the Wal-Mart. The selection of items that we needed was slung across my arm now, soon to be discarded because I knew that getting through a check-out line would be impossible, unless I wanted to face more accusing stares. No, the clothes would have to wait now.  A shiny, red, die-cast semi-truck had seen to that. We had just about finished; all I had needed was a package of socks. Heading towards the shoe and sock area, we had gone around the baby row. Jack was trailing behind just slightly, a small, well-worn, Matchbox fire truck held eye level as he walked. Somehow, he was able to follow me while moving the toy back and forth across his line of sight, his gaze fixed on the visual patterns it created. We walked into the main aisle where a display of replica vehicles had been erected. Nowhere near the toy aisle. I had thought we were safe from such distractions, had purposefully avoided them. But I couldn't contend with randomly placed displays.  He almost walked right past, unaware, lost in his own thoughts, yet still able to navigate after me. Almost. Then the bright red truck caught his eye. He stopped, staring at it, transfixed. I felt my adrenaline pump because I knew what was next. And knew of no way to avoid it. A moment of silence dominated while I awaited the inevitable.  " Truck. "  He stared at it, arms at his side, the fire engine forgotten now. " Truck. Truck, truck, truck. "  He pointed to it and gazed at me. " Truck. " There was the slightest edge to his tone now.  " We need to go, " I had said quietly, starting to move on.  " Truck, truck! "  His voice was louder, more insistent.  I motioned for him to follow and kept walking, slowly. A glance at the sign atop the display revealed the price to $14.99. Ouch. Too expensive, way too expensive. And not an option, anyway. To give in would be the easy way out and would set the expectation. But had I simply purchased the truck, we could have moved on, the quiet preserved, safe in our own world with no intruding stares passing judgment on us.  One day. One day, in a year or two, Jack would be able to see such a display of vehicles and be able to pause, admire them, hold them, and then walk on by. But not now, not at this age, not at this time in his life when bright red semi-trucks were more precious than anything to him. They were his world. He held them, admired them, lined them up in long, straight rows on the floor, studied them. He would hold one at eye level to examine the tires and marvel at the image formed when he moved one in and out of his peripheral vision. He could ride for hours in a car when we went on vacations, staring transfixed out the car window, hands shooting up to press against his ears at the sound as the big semis roared by but gazing in rapture at them. He never complained that he was bored, never asked about when we would arrive, never whined about how long the trip was, even when we drove all day. He was content because the highway presented an endless supply of semi-trucks, trains in the distance, campers, and cars for him to watch.  One day, but not this day.  I took a deep breath and put my hand on his arm. " Let's go, " I said quietly.  " No! " The word pierced the quiet of the store and shattered our privacy. " No, no, no! "  " Come, " I said, pulling on his arm. But he resisted, yanked his arm, and finally flopped downward. His arm slid from my grasp.  " No! " he screamed. He kicked and stomped his feet on the floor, banged his fists, and proceeding to wail in a high, ear-splitting screech.  He paused for a breath every half minute, or so, before continuing to flail and scream. In the momentary silence, the words hit me.  *I would never let my child behave like that.*  Let? Let? How dare they stand in judgment of a situation about which they knew nothing. They saw before them only the reflection of their normal world and normal lives, lives that followed the rules of the normal society. Children do not yell and scream in public.  But our world, our life was not " normal. "  It was different, it was challenging yet special. A life of extremes, where one moment was filled by the joyful, careful examination of a ladybug, marveling at nature's little work of art, the next racked with frustration and turmoil as one small boy tried to make sense of an overwhelming world.  One small, special child, who had changed our lives forever and had taken us down a different path then that of most parents. This path was uneven and rough, not neatly paved and straight. It twisted and turned, climbing and descending so that the end was never clearly in sight. It was marked with uncertainty and fears. But it also led through moments of wonder and gave us a new perspective on life.  Jack was sitting now, calmer, but I could still read the determination in his eyes; he was not finished with this battle. He was watching me and awaiting my next move. I took a deep breath to calm my trembling nerves. Had I the time, I might have marched up to those two women and asked them the question that was burning in my mind. But my feelings of anger and injustice were secondary. Getting out of the store and letting the situation diffuse itself was paramount.  I bent down to catch Jack's eye, to know that he was listening. " It's time to go, " I stated as calmly as possible, yet not quite keeping the edge off my voice. I closed my eyes and steeled myself, knowing that the next moment would bring another small explosion, another loud, public display. Eventually, after enough time had passed, once we were away from the irresistible object, life would return to our version of normal. And another small step would be taken in the learning process for him.  That moment in time would stay with me for a long time, burned into my memory by those critical words. Yet, I would not change our life or our child. He has so many beautiful qualities to balance out the difficulties. I would not change him.  I would, however, challenge others to view our life from a different perspective. After we got home, after the screaming had died, the kicking stopped, the calm restored, I sat down at our computer. Jack was on the floor playing with his huge collection of cars and trucks, lining them up in a straight row, bumper to bumper, and then lying with his face pressed against the hard kitchen floor to put himself at eye level with the tires, enveloped in the images and patterns he saw. Quiet, happy. At the computer, I typed up several business-sized cards and printed them out to put in my wallet. Each contained one question, the one that had burned in my mind early. Next time, if someone presumed to evaluate my life, I intended to walk up to them and hand them one of these cards, and then walk away to deal with whatever the situation might be. Then, they could either choose to think twice or ignore my message, but, at least, they would have the opportunity to learn and grow beyond their view of what was  " normal " and " acceptable. "  The card would say: " Do you know what autism is? "  Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted July 8, 2003 Report Share Posted July 8, 2003 That is awesome. Thanx for sharing. a > Passing this on with permission. Please include the author if you continue > it. I think I will do exactly what she wanted to do....great idea. Melinda, > ironic timing too. Hope the trip back goes better. I get looks too from > parent's that can't understand why I have to bring a double stroller and pick up my > 4 yr old so we can leave the park! We don't always have a problem but enough > to where I don't leave home without it. > Johanna > > > > I don't know if y'all might be interested in this, or not. Writing is my > outlet when I am feeling stressed or overwhelmed. Usually, I write stories > (sci-fi fan fiction) where I can take out my stress on imaginary > characters -- hehe), but in moments when I feel overwhelmed about the > future's uncertainty, I will write about personal experiences. Such as this > one.  This story is based on something that happened about five years. > It's been fictionalized -- my son is not exactly like the boy in the > story -- but the overall events are true. And I can still feel the > emotions as if it happened yesterday. >  > Maggie >  > ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ >  > Perspectives > ©Maggie Hutchinson 2003 > > >  > " I would never let my child behave like that. " >  > The words, spoken with a biting tone that stung as much as if the woman had > struck me, rang in my ears. My face flushed, burned. My heart was > thumping. I snapped my head in the direction of the voice. Two women stood > together, staring my way, shoulder to shoulder, a smug superiority written > in their stance as they gazed on in judgment. >  >  *I would never let my child behave like that.* >  > At my feet, my son, Jack, laid kicking and screaming, his voice echoing > through the Wal-Mart with a shrill, piercing pitch. Impossible to ignore. >  > The two women leaned in to further discuss the scene before them, their > voices now inaudible but the slight shake of a head unmistakable. No decent > parent would let their child behave like this in public. >  > Let. Let? If they only knew. I wanted to cry, to yell, to scream at them. > Let? >  > Instead, I turned away, taking a deep, shaking breath, and gazed at Jack. > He was quiet now, for the moment, tired from the exertion. His 4- year-old > face was flushed and his dark hair damp with sweat against his forehead. > His eyebrows furrowed as he glared not at me but just past me. The fury > might be past, or the respite might be temporary. I switched my own gaze to > a spot on the floor next to him, not making eye contact but still watching > him, waiting. >  > My own ire burned deep in my chest. I wanted to confront those women, those > nameless moral adjudicators of my family, of my life, of my child. But I > felt frozen, torn, knowing that my main concern was Jack. They had moved > on, anyway, bored with the scene but satisfied, knowing that I had heard > them. Their message had been communicated, along with the implication that > they were the superior parents. >  > Jack appeared to be calming. His breaths were slower, his face less tense. > It would be temporary, I knew, however. But I had no choice. My greatest > desire was to escape, to just get out of that wide open department store > where everyone would look at us and see the surface reflection: a > 4-year-old boy, normal by all appearances, who had learned that throwing a > tantrum would get him what he wanted. A spoiled child with weak parents. > It was always the parents. If they would just apply a little discipline, > bother to teach their child, this would never happen. >  > Fives minutes earlier Jack had been the content, typical child, trailing > behind his mother as we shopped for clothes in the Wal-Mart. The selection > of items that we needed was slung across my arm now, soon to be discarded > because I knew that getting through a check-out line would be impossible, > unless I wanted to face more accusing stares. No, the clothes would have to > wait now. >  > A shiny, red, die-cast semi-truck had seen to that. We had just about > finished; all I had needed was a package of socks. Heading towards the shoe > and sock area, we had gone around the baby row. Jack was trailing behind > just slightly, a small, well-worn, Matchbox fire truck held eye level as he > walked. Somehow, he was able to follow me while moving the toy back and > forth across his line of sight, his gaze fixed on the visual patterns it > created. We walked into the main aisle where a display of replica vehicles > had been erected. Nowhere near the toy aisle. I had thought we were safe > from such distractions, had purposefully avoided them. But I couldn't > contend with randomly placed displays. >  > He almost walked right past, unaware, lost in his own thoughts, yet still > able to navigate after me. Almost. Then the bright red truck caught his > eye. He stopped, staring at it, transfixed. I felt my adrenaline pump > because I knew what was next. And knew of no way to avoid it. A moment of > silence dominated while I awaited the inevitable. >  > " Truck. "  He stared at it, arms at his side, the fire engine forgotten now. > " Truck. Truck, truck, truck. "  He pointed to it and gazed at me. " Truck. " > There was the slightest edge to his tone now. >  > " We need to go, " I had said quietly, starting to move on. >  > " Truck, truck! "  His voice was louder, more insistent. >  > I motioned for him to follow and kept walking, slowly. A glance at the sign > atop the display revealed the price to $14.99. Ouch. Too expensive, way > too expensive. And not an option, anyway. To give in would be the easy > way out and would set the expectation. But had I simply purchased the > truck, we could have moved on, the quiet preserved, safe in our own world > with no intruding stares passing judgment on us. >  > One day. One day, in a year or two, Jack would be able to see such a > display of vehicles and be able to pause, admire them, hold them, and then > walk on by. But not now, not at this age, not at this time in his life when > bright red semi-trucks were more precious than anything to him. They were > his world. He held them, admired them, lined them up in long, straight rows > on the floor, studied them. He would hold one at eye level to examine the > tires and marvel at the image formed when he moved one in and out of his > peripheral vision. He could ride for hours in a car when we went on > vacations, staring transfixed out the car window, hands shooting up to press > against his ears at the sound as the big semis roared by but gazing in > rapture at them. He never complained that he was bored, never asked about > when we would arrive, never whined about how long the trip was, even when we > drove all day. He was content because the highway presented an endless > supply of semi-trucks, trains in the distance, campers, and cars for him to > watch. >  > One day, but not this day. >  > I took a deep breath and put my hand on his arm. " Let's go, " I said > quietly. >  > " No! " The word pierced the quiet of the store and shattered our privacy. > " No, no, no! " >  > " Come, " I said, pulling on his arm. But he resisted, yanked his arm, and > finally flopped downward. His arm slid from my grasp. >  > " No! " he screamed. He kicked and stomped his feet on the floor, banged his > fists, and proceeding to wail in a high, ear-splitting screech. >  > He paused for a breath every half minute, or so, before continuing to flail > and scream. In the momentary silence, the words hit me. >  > *I would never let my child behave like that.* >  > Let? Let? How dare they stand in judgment of a situation about which they > knew nothing. They saw before them only the reflection of their normal > world and normal lives, lives that followed the rules of the normal society. > Children do not yell and scream in public. >  > But our world, our life was not " normal. "  It was different, it was > challenging yet special. A life of extremes, where one moment was filled by > the joyful, careful examination of a ladybug, marveling at nature's little > work of art, the next racked with frustration and turmoil as one small boy > tried to make sense of an overwhelming world. >  > One small, special child, who had changed our lives forever and had taken us > down a different path then that of most parents. This path was uneven and > rough, not neatly paved and straight. It twisted and turned, climbing and > descending so that the end was never clearly in sight. It was marked with > uncertainty and fears. But it also led through moments of wonder and gave > us a new perspective on life. >  > Jack was sitting now, calmer, but I could still read the determination in > his eyes; he was not finished with this battle. He was watching me and > awaiting my next move. I took a deep breath to calm my trembling nerves. > Had I the time, I might have marched up to those two women and asked them > the question that was burning in my mind. But my feelings of anger and > injustice were secondary. Getting out of the store and letting the > situation diffuse itself was paramount. >  > I bent down to catch Jack's eye, to know that he was listening. " It's time > to go, " I stated as calmly as possible, yet not quite keeping the edge off > my voice. I closed my eyes and steeled myself, knowing that the next moment > would bring another small explosion, another loud, public display. > Eventually, after enough time had passed, once we were away from the > irresistible object, life would return to our version of normal. And > another small step would be taken in the learning process for him. >  > That moment in time would stay with me for a long time, burned into my > memory by those critical words. Yet, I would not change our life or our > child. He has so many beautiful qualities to balance out the difficulties. > I would not change him. >  > I would, however, challenge others to view our life from a different > perspective. After we got home, after the screaming had died, the kicking > stopped, the calm restored, I sat down at our computer. Jack was on the > floor playing with his huge collection of cars and trucks, lining them up in > a straight row, bumper to bumper, and then lying with his face pressed > against the hard kitchen floor to put himself at eye level with the tires, > enveloped in the images and patterns he saw. Quiet, happy. At the > computer, I typed up several business-sized cards and printed them out to > put in my wallet. Each contained one question, the one that had burned in > my mind early. Next time, if someone presumed to evaluate my life, I > intended to walk up to them and hand them one of these cards, and then walk > away to deal with whatever the situation might be. Then, they could > either choose to think twice or ignore my message, but, at least, they would > have the opportunity to learn and grow beyond their view of what was >  " normal " and " acceptable. " >  > The card would say: " Do you know what autism is? " >  > > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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