Fragile Industries

Way To Go, Tucker

While I was looking the other way, last month some truly fugly things were said by a woman named Sally Kern in Oklahoma.  If you, like me, have been living under a rock, here's the video: http://youtube.com/watch?v=tFxk7glmMbo#  The appalling thing is that she serves as an Oklahoma state legislator from Oklahoma City, home of the worst domestic terrorist attack in this county's history (yep, sometimes Americans blow up Americans), and had the nerve to say that gays are worse than terrorists.  The more appalling thing is she still has her job.

The advantage of being behind the curve on viral stories like these is that I get to cover the fallout, and if I'm really lucky, some wise soul has already put the thing into perspective better than I can.  And then I get to cut and paste.

Without further ado, I give you Tucker from Oklahoma City, a high school student with a keenly personal take on Representative Kern's remarks, who wrote the following letter to her:

Rep Kern:

On April 19, 1995, in Oklahoma City a terrorist detonated a bomb that killed my mother and 167 others. 19 children died that day. Had I not had the chicken pox that day, the body count would've likely have included one more. Over 800 other Oklahomans were injured that day and many of those still suffer through their permanent wounds.

That terrorist was neither a homosexual or was he involved in Islam. He was an extremist Christian forcing his views through a body count. He held his beliefs and made those who didn't live up to them pay with their lives.

As you were not a resident of Oklahoma on that day, it could be explained why you so carelessly chose words saying that the homosexual agenda is worst than terrorism. I can most certainly tell you through my own experience that is not true. I am sure there are many people in your voting district that laid a loved one to death after the terrorist attack on Oklahoma City. I kind of doubt you'll find one of them that will agree with you.

I was five years old when my mother died. I remember what a beautiful, wise, and remarkable woman she was. I miss her. Your harsh words and misguided beliefs brought me to tears, because you told me that my mother's killer was a better person than a group of people that are seeking safety and tolerance for themselves.

As someone left motherless and victimized by terrorists, I say to you very clearly you are absolutely wrong.

You represent a district in Oklahoma City and you very coldly express a lack of love, sympathy or understanding for what they've been through. Can I ask if you might have chosen wiser words were you a real Oklahoman that was here to share the suffering with Oklahoma City? Might your heart be a bit less cold had you been around to see the small bodies of children being pulled out of rubble and carried away by weeping firemen?

I've spent 12 years in Oklahoma public schools and never once have I had anyone try to force a gay agenda on me. I have seen, however, many gay students beat up and there's never a day in school that has went by when I haven't heard the word **** slung at someone. I've been called gay slurs many times and they hurt and I am not even gay so I can just imagine how a real gay person feels. You were a school teacher and you have seen those things too. How could you care so little about the suffering of some of your students?

Let me tell you the result of your words in my school. Every openly gay and suspected gay in the school were having to walk together Monday for protection. They looked scared. They've already experienced enough hate and now your words gave other students even more motivation to sneer at them and call them names. Afterall, you are a teacher and a lawmaker, many young people have taken your words to heart. That happens when you assume a role of responsibility in your community. I seriously think before this week ends that some kids here will be going home bruised and bloody because of what you said.

I wish you could've met my mom. Maybe she could've guided you in how a real Christian should be acting and speaking.

I have not had a mother for nearly 13 years now and wonder if there were fewer people like you around, people with more love and tolerance in their hearts instead of strife, if my mom would be here to watch me graduate from high school this spring. Now she won't be there. So I'll be packing my things and leaving Oklahoma to go to college elsewhere and one day be a writer and I have no intentions to ever return here. I have no doubt that people like you will incite crazy people to build more bombs and kill more people again. I don't want to be here for that. I just can't go through that again.

You may just see me as a kid, but let me try to teach you something. The old saying is sticks and stones will break your bones, but words will never hurt you. Well, your words hurt me. Your words disrespected the memory of my mom. Your words can cause others to pick up sticks and stones and hurt others.

Sincerely

Tucker

Lumpy Charity -- an invitation

I do love doing stuff for a Good Cause.  That goal takes away all my crippling perfectionism.  Maybe it makes my efforts less immaculate, but hell, whatever crap I churn out is, I figure, better than what the poor recipient has already. 

Currently, I'm knitting baby hats on the idiot proof knitting loom called a Knifty Knitter.  The result is couture by Dr. Seuss.  On the left is a completed hat, on the right is a work in progress.  It's for a wonderful organization called Afghans for Afghans, a grass-roots group that ships warm woolly garments and blankets to the refugee children in camps in the cold mountainous areas.  They must be made of at least 80% wool or alpaca, because polyester or other synthetics are useless for the kind of cold these kids suffer.  Currently, they have a drive for newborns, and hats are the easiest and quickest thing to churn out - 2 hours max each.  They have to be sort of long and tall and goofy to cover ears and other tender baby bits.  My extensive yarn stash is very low on wool.  Instead, I'm recycling the bags of scrap wool my mother used to use in needlepoint which is pre-cut into 12 inch lengths I'm randomly linking together.  Hence the rather festive color palette.  I'm getting very good at square knots.  The group encourages using up leftovers, reassuring us that the Afghans LIKE multicolor creations.  Hope so, 'cause that's what they're getting.  At any rate, Afghan mothers will be able to pick their kid out of a crowd wearing these crazy things.   I used my fat-head cat Peabody as my mannequin to check fit.  No photos, he wouldn't sit still.

If any of my devoted readers like to keep their hands busy while watching TV, this is an easy way to do good and not worry too much about the beauty of the product.  Check out the website and their guidelines.

Another Worthy Cause is Soldiers' Angels.  This is another grass-roots organization that provides great troop support.  I hate what and those whom have created the military effort, and especially loathe the shabby way the government treats the very people who have to put their lives on the line for the idiotic war. So I at least try to lessen the evil through this organization's efforts.  I don't have to be a jingoist warmonger to offer personal support for the young men and women most affected, via cards and letters to injured troops or e-mail pen-pal correspondence to those on the lines. These profoundly ugly things on the left are not lumberjack potholders or tea cozies.  SA had a drive for warm hand and foot booties for injured troops during the cold flights on the medevac choppers.  They have to be big and shapeless to cover bandages, dressing, IV tubes etc.  I suppose there's no money for Halliburton in heating the flight, or in supplying manufactured hand and foot coverings.  I knitted about a dozen big tubes on the loom device and sent them in.  Then I came into some wool fleece and sewed these.  My needlework skills will never win me blue ribbons, but they'll do the job.  I gather this drive is about done, so I'm rushing these in at the last minute. In the meantime, I've found a use for my art scraps into strange notecards I send to base hospitals.  I've gotten some very sweet replies, and plan on adopting another pen pal.  My last guy made it home safely and we had a fun correspondence.  The process was a wonderful education on the clusterfuck in Iraq and Afghanistan.  I'm sure I got more out of it than he did.

It feels good to do more than stew in guilt and fury over US actions.  Keeps me off the streets.  And sticking a "support the troops" ribbon magnet on your car has to be the stupidest, emptiest gesture imaginable.  So I make and send my lumpy handmade efforts. 

If any of my devoted readers would prefer to delegate the handiwork, but have wool yarn (at least 80% wool or wool-alpaca blend, any color, any weight, and lengths as short as 10 inches long -- attention ex-needlepointers!) they'd like to share, I will gladly exchange them for your choice from my extensive synthetic stash of yarn.  I've got all sorts of fancy and fun fibers, in a rainbow of colors (photos sent on request).  And some baby's head will be warm with your leftovers, which defines the "warm fuzzy feeling" of charity.  Even if it's goofy looking.  Please leave a comment and let me know.