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Uncomfortable

When I was a girl my mother had quite a record collection. (For those of you that are Corey’s age and below, I mean vinyl records… the precursor to the CD.)

She would listen to everything from classical music (Bach, The Nutcracker Suite, etc.) to Chicago and Neil Diamond.

But she also had a record that she would occasionally pull out, carefully dust off, and play while we were cleaning the house. This one was reserved for those days when she needed to be encouraged or pumped up emotionally.

This one was of Martin Luther King’s speeches.

You see, my mother was an artist, a dancer, and a believer in human rights. She believed in Dr. King’s message. But most importantly, she cranked up the volume so her daughters would understand him too.

Dr. King’s message was Peace. Justice. Equality. Love. Understanding and Acceptance of Diversity.

The most important thing though was that when you become uncomfortable, it was up to YOU to change the environment.

You don’t sit back and wait for someone else to do it.

For example, there were years (46 of them to be exact) that I was perfectly comfortable in my home. Watching the news (or not) and seeing people whose family members or loved ones were murdered.

I’d feel bad for them.
I’d say a short prayer for them.
Then I’d turn the channel, or go make dinner…
And I was still comfortable.

I had NO reason to make a change. NONE.
Why should I? It wasn’t MY responsibility, was it?

Yes, actually. It was. Only I didn’t see it.

Until it was too late.
Until they killed Corey.
I’m uncomfortable now, aren’t I?

What should you be involved with?
BEFORE you are forced to be uncomfortable?

Gwen Carver

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