...The Great American Melting Pot

As a kid, I was an epic fan of School House Rock.  Every Saturday morning we were fed lessons not that dissimilar to the ones we'd been taught during the week in school.  The main difference...we didn't dread them or groan about them, we sang along with them.  I can't tell you how many times over the years that a School House Rock tune has popped into my head out of the blue.  I hear them like it was yesterday.  Conjunction Junction, Interplanet Janet, I'm Just a Bill, they all went beyond being merely catchy tunes and taught us different things about language, the solar system, and government. 

Most of the time I can remember them verbatim, partially because anything set to music seems to stick longer in my mind and partially because nothing I've learned since then (aside from Pluto no longer being considered a planet) has ever negated them.  They were fun and factual and timeless.  While going through a mental list of my favorites, I recalled there being one titled, "The Great American Melting Pot," but couldn't for the life of me remember anything but the hook.   So, being the type of person who can't let things rest, I went to You Tube and searched for it.

In watching it again after all of these years, I wondered why this one hadn't stuck out in my mind in the same way that "Lolly, Lolly, Lolly get your adverbs here" had. What hit me then was that all of the others have been reinforced in one way or the other over my lifetime, whereas the philosophy behind "The Great American Melting Pot" had been systematically dismantled over time.

America today has been driven headfirst into the divisive nature of multi-culturalism as opposed to the unifying nature found in a melting pot.  More focus is being put on a person's heritage than on where they are presently.  I'm not saying by any means that our heritage shouldn't be honored, and the video emphasized the importance of both as well.  The difference lies only in the priority of each, and back then we were taught that being an American was something in which we could take pride.  It was the great experiment that proved successful.  Industrious people looking for a better life could find it here. By blending the strengths of our previous cultures, we could build something better and stronger, the likes of which had not been seen before.

In the years since my youth, those are no longer the sentiments or the things we and the generations following us are being taught to believe.  Nowadays, heritage takes the top spot. We're no longer Americans, but now hyphenated Americans, and in some cases no longer even bothering to acknowledge the American portion at all.  I've seen people in interviews and read articles where they self identify solely by their country of birth as if they merely happen to reside here in the United States.  It's this type of mentality that is going to lead us to being simply the North American States or some such derivative and wiping the idea of unity cleanly off the map.

By focusing on what makes us different rather than our similarities, we segregate ourselves into smaller and smaller groups with less chances of finding any common ground or possibilities for compromise.  That will lead inevitably to isolationism among the groups, and war or at least perpetual conflict soon thereafter. Our traditions and history are important pieces of our fabric, but they aren't the entire tapestry or even the majority of who we are.  We need to take ownership of who we are in the present and also what type of country we're providing for the generations that follow.  If it's so great to be Italian, Irish, Mexican, or Indian...why can't it be great to be American?  Allowing ourselves to have pride as Americans will help to ensure the unity of the people which will in turn foster the unity of these great United States.



*For the nostalgic among you, here's the video link to "The Great American Melting Pot."  Maybe we can make it the new Rick-roll and put these ideas back into our children's consciousness:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8wakJdXzu3Y&feature=related   

...Living in Color

An acquaintance of mine passed away last week.  He was vivacious and passionate, tenacious, spirited, and willing to stand up for those who had no voice or who had yet to find their voice.  On the day of his passing you could almost feel the hole left in the fabric of the world he inhabited.

So many were trying to voice their pain at the loss, their fears of what the world might lack without his colorful character gracing it.  In trying to describe him, while at the same time trying not to repeat the exact sentiments of others, I wrote how he used every color in the 120 ct. box of Crayolas.  Not all that profound, but as a stay-at-home mom, I'm forced to create metaphors from my environment and Crayolas have been a part of that environment for years now.

After using the metaphor, I felt compelled to extrapolate out to refine what it was that I meant when using it to sum up a man's life. So here goes:

I broke down people into four categories:  8 ct, 24 ct, 64 ct, and 120 ct boxes of Crayolas.

8 count crayons only contain red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, black, and brown.  Not a lot there to choose from, and not enough even to draw a realistic picture of much of anything.  8 ct people are similar in that respect.  They know what they think they know, and that's good enough for them.  Detail and accuracy aren't a priority.  They are happy with the gist of things and with something that's a close enough depiction to run with it, regardless of whether it's an authentic representation.  These are the idealogues of the world who give voice to half truths and call it fact.  This definitely didn't represent the man I knew.

24 count crayons have a wider variety and provide a truer representation of the world, but lack the volume of colors to add creativity into the mix.  24 ct people have a viable place in the world as messengers that can pass along truths accurately.  But without the added skill of creativity, they replicate and not necessarily create and inspire, so this was not the man I knew either.

64 count boxes of crayons have not only the ability to accurately represent reality, but also enough variety to stir creativity in the user.  64 count people also have that balance.  They can see and represent the truth, but also have the ability to inspire.  Their talent with nuanced shades make the picture more vivid for those who may only see in 8 or 24.  Witnessing that can often make the observer want to up their own game, and expand the colors in his or her box.  This description was approaching the man I knew, but didn't quite do him justice.

Lastly there's the 120 count box.  The first time I saw one, I was shocked and if I remember correctly, my reaction was..."are there even 120 colors?"  That reaction alone should tell you that I'm definitely not a 120 person, but I admire them deeply.   120 count people are the people in the world who can not only instantly tell the difference between red-orange and orange-red, but also know the inherent merits of each.  They know exactly when to use them and it enhances the quality to a level of perfection most didn't know was possible prior.  They are extremely creative and have a deep understanding of the way the world works, the way it appears, and the way to represent it so that everyone around them will be inspired to do more and be more.  They use all the resources given to them and also create new resources for those of us in smaller boxes, so we can expand the palettes of our minds.  They make the world more colorful and those of us who know them get to experience the true vividness of our world because of their vision.  They don't come along often, and that is why we feel their loss so deeply.

This fit the man I knew as Andrew Breitbart, and because of his inspiration, I'm beginning this blog.  I'm trying to expand and live in color.  I may not be using every color in the box at first, but someday after I sample them one by one, I hope to be able to find out their merits and use them effectively to carry on what he started.  It seems daunting and unattainable considering the legacy he left behind.  I hope to one day feel he'd be proud, and see that he inspired others to be living in color.