a few hours ago. I watched as a throng of children sang the national anthem to open the Democratic National Convention's second day.
I have to admit, it brought tears to my eyes. Possibly it wasn't at all difficult for me to remember myself, grades
one through eight, standing, every morning, of every school day, placing my hand with deft precision in the spot that I swore lie atop my heart. I pledged my undying
loyalty and reverence to a country I believed would always be my home. I was an adopted child, and I did not know then of my native American blood, and I was too young to understand the power of being in a place original to me.
I was after all, a happy bright child, growing up in the marshes and creeks of Delaware Bay, in a very rural Southern New Jersey. It was all normal enough, I was the only child in a family of three, living in our own house
on our own land. I loved school, and brought home a's and b's believing I could be anything.
I wanted to be a Rockstar.
I was raised a Christian- went to both Sunday school and church each and Sunday. I was a communion boy, ny Mother was on usher boards and such and my Dad tended bar...
We were an atypical Christian American Family.
Today as I sit here so far removed from those days yet not that far estranged from that life, I get teary for other reasons as well.
Copy & paste to friend: (Click inside box; Ctrl + C to copy; Ctrl + V to paste)
|
|
read more blogs!
Blogs by donathen:
|
|
|
|
|
| socio-political-ethno-nationalistic politics |
|
|
|
|
|
|