Dripping Life, Feb. 14

I’ve always considered Texas part of the Southern states. Not that I ever claimed to be a “Southern Belle,” but my college sorority was founded in Virginia, my ancestors came from Kentucky and I grew up loving songs like “Midnight Train to Georgia,” “Old Man River” and “Way Down Yonder in New Orleans.”

But not one time…not for Halloween, college parties or any other occasion did I or anyone I knew shoe-polish our faces or don white robes and pointy hoods with scary eye holes as costumes or just for fun. Judging from recent national news, however, these shenanigans seem to have been a rite of passage in the deeper South. 

In spite of the bad taste these stories leave, I am so thankful most Texans didn’t have these role models. Remember the old saying, “Like father, like son?” 

Without a smidge of partisanship, if I were a voter in Virginia and learned any elected official had used Klan attire or blackface as a costume, I would have been among those suggesting they step away from the responsibilities of leadership, just as I would if a Texas official had behaved in a racially-antagonistic manner.

Being totally objective individuals, I’m sure my parents found me a challenging kid because I was always asking questions when it came to long-held family beliefs, wanting to know “the why’s and wherefore’s.” 

But there were certain things I never understood – like why those houses we passed on our way to church had those colorful little statues of jockeys at the end of their drive-ways…or why there were two waiting rooms at the train station…or why my playmate/housekeeper Rosetta had to sit in the back of the streetcar my mom and I sometimes rode to downtown Dallas. (I wanted her to sit with us). 

Today, as an adult – and an older one at that, try as I may, I cannot accept the lack of respect I am seeing in our political process, on any level. Like many of you, I grew up in classrooms with portraits of George Washington staring at us from above the front blackboards (remember those – those expansive black spaces with chalk and eraser trays along the bottom – that came before green boards and then white boards.)

We said the Pledge of Allegiance every morning and sang “My Country ‘Tis of Thee.” We studied all the positives of our forefathers and great leaders and went through public school, proud and feeling lucky enough to be Americans.

So what happened? What changed?

Just a few years ago, we heard a lawmaker, during the State of the Union, calling the President of the United States a liar. We’ve witnessed contenders for the presidential nomination bullying and calling each other demeaning names, and we’ve been lied to by administrations headed by both parties.

We’ve heard attorneys general testify “I cannot recall” enough times to make one’s head spin, heard key government players – employees and appointees – repeatedly repeat words to the effect, “I’m not tellin’ anything.” And, as the late, great Aretha Franklin was fond of saying, ‘What we need is a little R-E-S-P-E-C-T.”

In my own lifetime, I’ve watched respected clergy cry and leave the pulpit as they’ve admitted infidelity, and I’ve also seen clear-eyed clergy admit to indiscretions and continue employment without missing a beat. 

All of this to say, I’m still asking questions, still seeking to understand the human condition. Don’t get me wrong. I’m perfectly willing to change with the times, but will maintain a few, closely-held practices: I always will cover my heart with my hand when the flag goes by. I will always be a proud American, in spite of the antics of Congress. I always will find ways to express my grateful thanks to the men and women in uniform who sacrifice so much to protect our democracy…and I always will be grateful for the freedom to worship where and how I please…but in every case, I will do these things without using shoe polish on my face or wearing a pointy hood with scary eye holes.