The Seed of Violence in American Culture

Amendment II

A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed.

-Bill of Rights, American Constitution

It is impossible to work for peace, while preparing for war.

-Albert Einstein

One after another, the shootings have come. Though it was not the first of its kind, the Columbine, Colorado massacre shocked the American public, both for its level of cold brutality, as well as for the young age of the assailants. Though marked as a critical example of senseless violence, Columbine was not the end of these seemingly random shooting. Gun violence continues.

In April of this year, a seemingly normal student at Virginia State opened fire on campus, killing 32 of his classmates and wounding many more. For weeks afterward, the nightly news was dominated with coverage of this terrible event. People sought a theory or answer to explain the gunman’s unpredictable rampage.

As is often the case, time passed and people stopped talking. In such a tragic situation, perhaps the victim’s families just wanted to move on, quietly picking up the pieces of their shattered lives, or perhaps the answers we sought were not forthcoming. It may be true that when such chaos strikes, many of us just want to go on with our lives, to simply pretend that the insanity did not happen. That the world in which we live is not really crazy.

Now however, recent events have demonstrated that there is truly an epidemic in this country. We have a big problem. Last week, an off-duty Wisconsin police officer shot and killed 7 people, after having an argument with his girlfriend. The dead included several young children. Not long after, there was another mass shooting, this one in Ohio, the assailant was only 14.

The question begs, “why?” What can cause us to become so enraged that we would seek revenge, not just against the people or person that ‘wronged’ us, but so many innocents as well? As a people, we have come along way from ‘turn the other cheek’ to the now endless stories of massacre after massacre.

In the twentieth century, the level of violence inherent in American culture has steadily increased. Gun ownership among private citizens is popular in America than any other country. Not just the utilitarian hunting rifles of the first pioneers, but ever more hand guns and military style assault rifles, whose purpose is not hunting animals for sustenance, but the killing of another human. Why are we so fascinated and enthralled with guns and the ability to kill?

Guns are the proverbial double-edged sword. They can protect us from an aggressor with a less lethal weapon, or even another gun, but they also allow untrained, undisciplined or unstable among us to kill easily. Not just to kill one person, but to kill in volume. Hence the prominence of these recent massacres.

Though both my grandfathers fought in WWII, one in ultra-dangerous PT boats in the Mediterranean, and the other on the front lines, planning with the Corps of Engineers, since leaving the military, neither has ever owned a gun. Perhaps life is not respected in the ways it once was.

It may be time to re-evaluate more than guns. As gun enthusiasts will always say – it is not guns that kill people, it is people who kill people. Where then does so much violence inherited in our society come from?

It may be brushed off by more conservative elements in American society, but the prevalence of violence in media and culture cannot be ignored. Growing up with a TV in my bedroom, I watched every sort of program imaginable, with almost no parental oversight. I saw thousands of murders on TV before I was 16. I watched as cartoons and video games became ever more realistic and violent. When I was young we had Super Mario Brothers and Frogger. Today, some video games are so realistic that the United States Marines uses them to train soldiers. The Columbine killers learned to shoot in this way. How can we not believe these images of violence find their way into the minds of our innocent and impressionable children? Don’t we have a responsibility to them?

While we pay such close attention to these news stories flashing across our TV and computer screens, it easy to miss the violence within oneself. Lately, I have been looking to see the true level of fighting and anger that I harbor in myself. Though I have, as of yet, never gotten into a fist-fight on the street, I often find myself screaming at the crazy cab drivers who run amok on New York’s streets. They deserve it, I think to myself. But the anger is strong, it becomes hate.

The truth is ugly; the seed of violence is deep within me.

The one that is really hurt, however is me. By getting angry, I am the one that is shaken, unsteady and unfocused. I know this anger is the first step down the dark path. I'm different from the Wisconsin police officer only in the degree of violence, not the essence of it.

The question of the new Millennium remains, what can we do to promote peace and harmony? In ourselves, our country and on this earth that so patiently tolerates the insanity of mankind. If we can make a turn away from this terrible course of violence and revenge,a harmonious world awaits.

What else do I have to say....

www.nytimes.com/2007/10/08/us/08wisconsin.html?hp

A Beginning

A new beginning is always good. This blog is, simply, about my New York life. What I consider to be my journey of discovery, walking through this beautiful city, and meeting its intense and interesting people. Nowadays, everyone is looking for something enlightening and spiritual, truth is in this topsy turvy world is elusive. Some may go to India to study meditation, others might join the Peace Corps. New York is my training ground. Where better to learn about myself and this world? The good, the bad, and the ugly exist here. And I want to understand.

New York is a place of motion and movement like no other I have ever been. There is so much energy here, some nights I cannot sleep. Finding peace of mind is a heroic effort, worthwhile, but a constant struggle. There is activity everywhere, and a barrage of image. Too Much Information. You have to walk down Canal street on a busy afternoon to understand the level of frustration that one can feel here.

I believe the effort of stilling my mind will one day make me truly strong, a worthy scion of my upright ancestors. Push-ups for my brain. Someone wise once said to me, that if I could survive in New York, I could live in, and in some way transcend, any city in the world.

Though I consider myself weak and easily fooled by the glitter and polished image of this world, I still long to be a righteous man, as my grandfathers and others of their great generation are. They fought a just war and took no personal credit. They fulfilled their loyalty to their country. Raised families and stayed together. They are my inspiration. I came here to be closer to them, but the demands of work and daily life often keeps me away. I have found deep shame within myself over this. I have to remind myself that I am only human.

As I watch my family cope with life, some with new babies, some experiencing tragic death (the suicide of my quiet 21 year old cousin), I realize that being 'grown-up' often means just not having enough time for everything. Responsibility is heavy. I don't know if I am strong enough.

It is never easy here. Living in this city, bursting at the seams with people, my anger often rises at careless drivers swerving into bike lanes or people who push to get in the subway. A few breaths helps me remember that being calm is more important than being right. To yield is to be benevolent, I tell myself over and over again. There are many chances to yield here. You can go first, I think to myself as I board the subway behind the crush.

New York remains, a city of people. Immigrants and natives, we all look for harmony together. Growing up in Texas, I always felt we were individuals. Everyone just looked out for them self. We lived isolated, encased in our brick homes or enormous trucks. Here, we are New Yorkers. We ride the packed subway together and sit in the parks on clear sunny days, grateful for some respite from big city life.

New York is a city about trying to find your way. Generations of people have come to New York chasing some kind of dream. Everyone comes here for a reason. Actress? Costume Designer? Model? Musician? Fleeing oppression or poverty overseas? This is the place to come. The bright lights and big city. I still not sure what I'm looking for, but it can be found here.

Instead of a horse, my mount on my journey is a beautiful all white fixed-gear bicycle. The bike's journey through physical space is indescribably elegant and quiet. My peace an quiet. Every second my life is in danger, my survival dependent on focus and calm., I have never felt more alive.

This rock that we call New York is also a place where it is easy to get lost. The many young people I meet are all in the same situation, we are 'getting by'. There is money to live, but always just barely. We are not starving, and I know I should be grateful, but working everyday to make the rent becomes an endless cycle.

In the movie Groundhog Day, Bill Murray says 'anything different being good', after living the same day over and over agin in a super-natural test of character and faith. He found his faith, and broke out of his groundhog day, I hope I can do the same.

I think about New York in the time of its original Native Americans caretakers. Trees and grass, snow covered meadows, before a skyscraper was ever built. Their peaceful spirit lives here still.

This is just the beginning, there will be more to follow...