MARCH ON

Today, watching millions of women, men, and children march for equality and protection of basic human rights, I cannot help but reflect on two very different occasions when I personally witnessed marches, many decades apart.

As you may suspect, both of these involved my departed mother.  Perhaps the most important lesson she ever taught me was to respect all people regardless of their race, socioeconomic status, religion, sex, or sexual preference.  She practiced "what she preached".

The first march I ever remember seeing (with my little 5 year old eyes) was the KKK march through our little Southern town.  Mother put all three of us boys in the car and drove to a spot near the high school.  She parked the car, told us to watch these people, and explained what they were marching for and why it was so horrible.  We were terrified!  That is (I believe) why she made us see this firsthand.  As the oldest of the three, I am likely the only one to remember, which is why I am writing this today.  The only spanking I ever had as a child was when I used the "N" word.  Mother was a woman with a very strong faith, which brings me to the next march.

Fast forward to the spring of 1996. I had not been in a church for many years.  As an openly gay man in a small Southern town, there was not a church where I felt welcome.  During one of our daily talks, I asked if she knew of a church we could attend the following Sunday.  She suggested that we attend the church of my youngest brother and his wife.  I agreed.  

The service was simple and everyone was very nice. 

Then...the preacher started off his sermon. It quickly became obvious this was going to be a "all gays go to hell" sermon.  After about 5 minutes my mother looked at me and said..."Let's get up and walk out of here".  She grabbed her purse, we stood up while the man was mid-sentence, we walked out. That is the moment I knew just how strong her faith was in her God, and in her morals.  All are equal...we just come with different covers.  This was the day I began my personal faith journey.  Thanks be to God and that preacher.

Like mother, I am not by nature political.  Politics were never a hot button issue in our home.  How people were treated WAS very important. We did not march, we did not fight, we did not retreat, we stood our ground as equals...like it or not.  We made our point by example, not with speeches or hateful talk about others.  We prayed for all and for God's will.  Love conquers hate.  It takes two to argue.  Silence has more power than words when backed up with action.

This is how my mother taught me to march.

As always...xxdt