'Diversity Bake Sale' Stirs Up Controversy

'Diversity Bake Sale' Stirs Up Controversy : NPR

I am using the link from NPR for this story because I have the utmost respect for 'Tell Me More' on NPR.

My husband and I have had our differences, obviously, what married couple does not. I am a feminist and he is well....not. And that's OK. My whole deal is I want everything equal. PERIOD. But that also means, I want women in the same danger as men - such as combat. I mean if we want equality we need to shoulder those same responsibilities. But obviously I have a biased towards women....shame on me, I guess.

That all being said, I know there is reverse discrimination in this world. And I know it's hard to be a white male these days. And I don't think that is right either....I don't think we need to make others suffer so one group can get ahead. There is though, a history to contend with and resentment and recriminations and all of that makes the whole issue ugly and complex.

I don't claim to know the answers. I know for myself, I don't need to be told to be nice to others. I don't need to be reminded that all PEOPLE are equal and should be treated with respect and dignity. But obviously, I am not about to go walking down in the 'hood' and smiling at all the people of different color(s) - because I feel it would be unwise and unsafe. I don't want to feel that way walking into the office of my boss and asking for a raise....some risks are deemed tolerable, others are not. I want change - at least I SAY I want change. I guess the ultimate test of that desire is how far am *I* willing to go to be the change I want to see in the world.

Life in the office

This was all too familiar at my former place of employment....OK so let's get honest....at ALL of them...

What do I know?

Everything's been so 'surface' lately...it's like I can't connect.  Things are just out of reach - or maybe they're just not there and swear I can see them from the periphery...

It's annoying.  I feel like I am being scraped with sandpaper in my brain, or as if parts of my being are just wearing away. I suppose, eventually, I will be smooth.  Not shiny and new....just care-worn and flat.  I look in the mirror and I can see my age creeping up on me.  I notice new wrinkles and although I never thought of myself as vain, I still want to keep the loss of my youth at bay.  Playing for time, I guess, until I get to the point where I just stop....or time stops for me...

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'They' say 'write what you know'.  I want to kick them in the gonads.  

What do I know?  I write when I FEEL like writing.  I say what I need to say.  I don't agonize, I don't apologize.  So sue me.  I have written about my life here.  Not because I am trying to impress anyone and not because I think I am going to be the next great 'American Novelist '.  I often write because I have no choice, because otherwise the voices I hear, the thoughts I have would drown out all my sanity.

How do writers truly know?  How do they know the colour of the sky?  The weight of a broken heart?  The agony of injustice?  Sure, some things have happened to them.  But other than stringing pretty words together, the sky happens to everyone, as does the weather.  Life and death happen to everyone.  If writers were to only write what they 'know' we'd only have works of non-fiction.

Isn't writing about taking a chance?  Isn't writing about soul-searching?  Isn't writing about stripping yourself bare?  It is for me....and THAT I do know.  So I think that we can all take that flight of fancy, no matter what shape it takes, no matter the gender, the species, the creed.  We can all become something we're not normally.