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Sunday, May 27, 2012


Something Stinks......

Corporations are a lot like Vultures. From the 30 thousand foot level they look beautiful, graceful and not so big but when you see them up close they are pretty hard on the nose and the eyes.

Don't get me wrong, they do have purpose. They make a lot of money but at what expense? There are CEO's that make millions of dollars every year at our expense. We put in the hard work and time. We take the heat for mistakes and short comings of the company but there that CEO is far above the trouble on their way to their yacht in the Pacific.

You as the regular population want and even need to believe that what you are working for is a better company. You want to exceed their expectation. Many of us will even preach to our coworkers of the glories of doing a better job. We will use buzz words like focus. We have focus groups. We have "round" table meetings so that every one believes that they are equal and they can speak their minds in which you are actually being culled out secretly for your forwardness and they list it as being unprofessional. 

You can never be creative or imaginative because they have their system of doing things. They want you to sell the populace a program or a concept that will leak small change out of the clients bank accounts and credit cards in an unrealistic 4.5 minutes. 

I ask you this question. Would you trust a person that you just met and give them $12.95 out of your hard earned money every month because they served you and speedily blurted out something about monitoring you credit file?

I wouldn't.

Here is another question. If you had a man or woman that showed up an hour early every work day, worked hard, tried new ways to make the job easier for everyone, was friendly a well thought of by his coworkers, if he called another coworker dude, brother or man, would you fire him?

That is exactly what happen to a good friend of mine. He was blind sided last week by a huge corporation that if I spoke the name would be recognized immediately. 

He told them that he didn't understand. He asked them if he did his job, they agreed that he did. He asked them why they were firing him and they said that they had "heard" that he had made some remarks that were deemed unprofessional.

He told them that they were stepping on his Freedom of Speech rights and the Constitution of the United States by doing this and they simply smiled at him and said they didn't care about his Constitutional rights! 

He sat in that office with his manager and her boss as they humiliated him and singled him out.

He was a veteran of the United States Army and a Senior Citizen.

Tears flowed down his face as he left their office and was removed from the building by security.

Is this right? Is this why he served his country so that this could happen?

I ask you. What can we do to keep this from happening to another human being?



Sunday, May 13, 2012

   Thank You, Mothers!

I wanted to take the time today to thank all of the Mothers for what you do.

I want to thank you for making the choice to have that child. Even though it was not the easy choice it was the best choice and the right thing to do.

 I want to thank you for all of the pain and anguish that you endured as well as the cravings for all of their weird things thru out your pregnancy.

 I wanted to thank you for the endless hours that you spent in labor, breathing and eating ice until you thought that you would go insane.

I want to thank you for the time that you took, patiently teaching us how to be us. Teaching us to comb our hair, tie our shoes, brush our teeth, clean our rooms, take out the garbage. 

Thank you for the discipline that you gave us in love so that we wouldn't do stupid things. 

Thank you for feeding us even when we spit it out and threw up on your best dress. 

Thank you for playing with us and allowing us to use our imaginations. 

Thank you for letting us fall so that you could pick us up and kiss away our tears.

Thank you for letting us go free, to make mistakes, to fly! 

Thanks for being there when our hearts hurt from the crush of that first break up.

Thanks for your love even when we do unlovely things.

Thanks for  cuddling us and making us feel better when we were sick.
Thanks for taking us to Church even when we didn't want to.

Thanks for praying for me.

Thanks for reading the Bible to me.

Thanks for taking food out of your mouth so that I could have sustenance. 

Thanks for all the great cooking!

We love you so much, Mom.

This is an appreciation to all Mothers but especially to my wonderful Mother. 

                                Jewel Irene Peters/Thornton.





Monday, April 2, 2012

Aren't you tired of the Race card in 2012?

Here it is April of 2012 and here we are living on a ball of dirt called Earth. In the following photo's you will find different cities from all over the world. What do they have in common?

They all have people!
These people come from all walks of life. Different cultures, different religions, different music, different dances, different ways of doing things.
I, for one, love the differences! It makes us who we are!
Take me for example. I am part Cherokee Indian, part Scottish and part Irish. My Wife is part Blackfoot Indian, part Icelandic. I am a Kentucky Wild Cat fan and She is a Louisville Cardinal Alumni.
We don't agree on everything but it would be so boring if we did!





You will notice in the Scriptures above that when God made man he didn't make the white ones first and then the black ones and then the yellow ones and then the brown ones. 
He just made man in HIS image. We are ALL in the image of the Living God!
It doesn't matter what the pigment of your skin is.
You are probably wondering how that we got our languages.




Genesis chapter 11 verses 1 - 9 explain how that this came to be.

1 And the whole earth was of one language, and of one speech. 2 And it came to pass, as they journeyed from the east, that they found a plain in the land of Shinar; and they dwelt there. 3 And they said one to another, Go to , let us make brick, and burn them throughly.And they had brick for stone, and slime had they for morter. 4 And they said , Go to , let us build us a city and a tower, whose top may reach unto heaven; and let us make us a name,lest we be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth. 5 And the LORD came down to see the city and the tower, which the children of men builded . 6 And the LORD said , Behold, the people is one, and they have all one language; and this they begin to do : and now nothing will be restrained from them, which they have imagined to do . 7 Go to , let us go down , and there confound their language, that they may not understand one another's speech. 8 So the LORD scattered them abroad from thence upon the face of all the earth: and they left off to build the city. 9 Therefore is the name of it called Babel; because the LORD did there confound the language of all the earth: and from thence did the LORD scatter them abroad upon the face of all the earth.


So here we can see that we all started as one people not as separate. We were scattered abroad and yes we evolved and learned how to adapt so that we could survive in the harsh environments that we chose to live.


As for me, I had never seen another kind of person other then a white person until I was at least 5 years old. Here it was in 1966 and we went into a restaurant in Cincinnati and I saw a black man. I didn't know what to think. How could this person not look like me? Why is his skin dark? Was he burned? Did he have a really good tan?
I wasn't afraid but just curious. 
I asked my Father, "Daddy, did that man get burned?" My Father just snickered and then laughed out loud like I had did a joke. He never said anything.


A few years later, a black family moved down the street and soon the little boy and I became friends. I noticed that he spoke different and I started picking up some of his speech. We would play for hours and we had so much fun as children. We played Army and we played hide and go seek.
One day, a knock came to the door and it was my friend. I was so excited that he was there but my Mom answered the door and said to him, "I'm sorry, but Raymond can't come out to play."
I was very confused. I didn't understand why. I asked her why that I couldn't go out to play? 
She told me, "Raymond, honey, we don't want you to play with him anymore." I asked her why and she said, "Well, Raymond, we don't want people to get the wrong impression." I still didn't understand. Here we were living in Chattanooga, Tennessee and this was my only friend to play with. He had never been mean to me. We liked each other and we had fun together.
She looked at me and said, "We just don't want you to play with his kind."



His kind?
What does that mean? 
I was taught that black people didn't have souls that they were kind of like monkeys.
That's what my Dad and Grandpa had told me.
One Sunday morning, we were getting ready to go to Church. I had my new suite on and was sitting in front of the Television watching the "Happy Jubilee!"
This was a gospel music program that came on every Sunday morning. I sat there and watched while Mom and Dad got ready for church. 
The music was wonderful with several quartets that were singing the praised of God. The likes of the Happy Goodman's, The Lefevres, The Blue Ridge Quartet, The Oak Ridge Boys, The Blackwood Brothers and the Speers could be heard almost every Sunday morning.
This particular morning they had a choir on and it was a Black Choir!
Oh, when they sang the harmony and the incredible volume that they had! The music was so moving that I was crying for the love of the song.
My Father came in and stood there tying his tie. He looked at me and asked why that I was crying. 
I told him, "Daddy that is some of the best singing that I have ever heard! How can someone with out a soul sing like that?"
He just shook his head and said, "Boy, turn off that TV and go get in the car!" 
Of course, I minded my Father but the question stuck in my mind.



Yes, I remember those years growing up. I can remember the Black people setting on the back of the bus. I can remember Black people having different restrooms, drinking fountains. Yes, I can remember the black people working as maids and as the help.
If you can see the movie, "The Help" it is a very true to life movie.


I can remember hearing Reverend Martin Luther King speak when he gave the "Dream" Speech.
I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.
But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check -- a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "For Whites Only". We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.
Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.
I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."
And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!
Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!
But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"


I can also remember hearing the Great S.M.Lockeridge preach in Highland Park Baptist Church when he gave the oration, "The Lordship of Christ!" These great men moved me in a way I have never been moved.


I can remember the riots, the marches, the violence.
I have seen violence on both sides of the fence. I can remember one evening when my Mother and I were going to pick my Father up from work we were going thru a part in Chattanooga, Tennessee. We were starting to pass this "juke" joint, late at night when a bunch of men, approximately 20 or 30 strong tried to stop the car that my Mother was driving. We didn't know what they were wanting to do with us. The car that we had was a 1957 Chevrolet Belair and my Father had put a 400 Buick engine in it with some modifications. Too say the least it could run! They tried to make a human chain so that Mom would stop the car. We had been warned where they were doing this and the people would stop so as to not hit anyone but they were pulled from their cars and beaten. Mom, didn't want that to happen to us so she down shifted and floored it. I have never seen anyone move out of the way so fast!
Thankfully we didn't hit anyone.


During the riots I can remember one of my friends in school that was hurt when a brick smashed thru the windshield of his families car. The brick came thru the window and hit him in the head. He had to get stitches. 


I remember one night, we were warned that the Black Panthers were rioting in Chattanooga, Tennessee. We were afraid because there had been home invasions, looting, beatings, rioting. I can remember my Father having me hide under the bed, while He and my Mother manned the windows with loaded guns for our protection. Thankfully we had no problems.


I can also remember in Carriere, Mississippi when we went to school, that in my English Class a Miss Ramsey taught my class. This was when desegregation had first started. I noticed that if you were a black child and you raised your hand that Miss Ramsey would say, "Awww, come on up here baby girl and let's see what the problem is." Now, if I were to raise my hand, instead of assistance I would get, 
"Boy, you better put that hand down and get back to work." No, big surprise when I flunked that class for the semester.


Here it is over 50 years later and we STILL have hate groups. We still are pulling the race card every time that something happens.
A few years ago, I was approached at a Country Music Bar in Cincinnati, Ohio by a tall red headed slender built man that said that he was with the Ku Klux Klan. Now I have seen these individuals in the hoods and sheets burning crosses thru out the country. I know what they were about but I had never actually spoke with some one from the organization. I was having a beer and listening to the music. This man sit down next to me and we got to talking. He handed me a small booklet and told me to read it and to get back with him. Me being a man of my word did read it. You are probably wondering why but I will tell you that I am a man of my word to a fault and also that I try to approach everything and everyone with an open mind.
So, I read this KKK manifesto of sorts to find that they hate just about everybody. The ONLY thing that I did agree upon was that I hated Communism.


A few days passed and I met back up with the man that gave me the booklet. I handed the booklet back to him. He looked at me a bit confused and said, "What did you think?" I said, "Well it was about what I expected." He said, "What's that?" I said, "The KKK hates just about everybody and the only thing that I can agree with is the stance on Communism."
I asked him, "Where are you from?" He said, "Mississippi, Born and Bread!" I asked him, "Did any of your folks own any plantations?" He smiled and shook his head in agreement, "Yes, my Grandfather! His Father and his Father! Why do you ask?"
I smiled and said, "You know that there was a lot of slave owner that were making it with the slave women. Andrew Jackson did with his slaves. How do you know that you are 100% white?"
He started to answer and I pressed it further with another question.
"The KKK hates Jews is that Correct?" He said, "You did read that book didn't you?" 
I shook my head in agreement. I asked him, "Do you go to Church?"
He smiled and said, "Every Sunday!"
I said, "Do you love Jesus?"
He nodded, yes.
I enquired, "Do you believe the Bible?"
He said, "Every word of it!"
I smiled and said, "How do you live with yourself and what the KKK has to preach when it is a Biblical Fact that Jesus was born in Bethleham from the tribe of Judah a Nazarene? Jesus was a Jew!"
I shook my head and turned on my heel as I said, "I got to go."


Have you ever noticed that when you fill out a work application that there is a place to put whither you are black, white, spanish, indian? What does it matter? If you can do the work it shouldn't matter if you are a woman or a man or what pigmentation or sexual preference that you are. The question is can you handle the job? What does it matter how old you are? Can you do the JOB!?


I use to have a problem with a black man marrying a white woman or vice versa. My cousin, Gary married a Black Woman and the family shunned him. She seemed to be a very nice lady. I only met her once. Years went by, they had a son. Gary and his wife split up for what ever reason but the son grew up and went to collage in Berkely and graduated. A few years ago, Gary died and I met his Son at the funeral. I played the Piano because there was no one else to do it. His Son was a strapping tall young man with an incredible intelligence. I was so proud of him the way that he handled himself.  


You know we really need to just make a change in the way we think about people in general.
I'll never forget my Father sitting at my kitchen table one morning and he said, "Did you see that where that little Nigger girl won beauty contest the other night!"
I looked at him and said, "DAD!"
He said, "What?" with a look of confusion on his face. 
I replied, "We don't talk like that in my house!"
He was still confused. "Like What?"
I looked at him and said, "Dad, I love you but you cannot say the N word in my house."
He shot back, "You mean NIGGER!?"
I barked, "DAD! If you are going to talk like that you are going to have to leave until you can figure a better word for Ms. Vanessa Williams."
He said sternly, "You don't tell me what to do! I'm your Father!"
I said, "This is MY house and you are my Father but you are out of line on this!"
He left!
A few days later he came back and apologized for his action.
Every once in a while he would slip and I would correct him and he would say, "I'm sorry Son, I don't even know that I said it."
Hatred is taught.



Which takes me to another point.
If it's wrong for me to say NIGGER why is it not wrong for a brother or a black man or a friend to say NIGGER? If it is wrong then it is wrong. NIGGA and NIGGER is the SAME thing! It is NOT a term of endearment! It is a term of shame, It is a term of hatred. It is a term of Class!


My sweet Mother was employed at Walmart. During her orientation she had to go thru sensitivity training. She came home that day weeping. I asked her, "Mom what in the world is going on? Why are you crying?" I hugged her and she buried her face in my chest and just sobbed. Finally, she lifted her head and looked in my eyes with tears streaming down her face and said, "I'm a racist! I never knew that I was a racist but according to what I learned today I'm a racist."
Hatred is taught.


We have been taught to hate so much! We have demonized each other so much that we hate just about everyone. We have taught our children to hate every thing that they can't understand or everything that is different.
I encourage you to travel, to read, to say hello today to someone of a different culture. Shake their hand. Wave at some one today!



The other day, I was at the Library and I had the honor to speak to a person that is from Libya. I made it a point to speak to him. I always do because I want to learn something. I want to experience something different. I told him that even though that we are very different we have things in common. We talked about food. We talked about music. We talked about religion. We talked about politics.
He was very surprised that I attempted to speak his language. I said, Mahabra. Which I believe means Hello in Arabic. We must have talked for about an hour. I had fun speaking to him. He told me that I was the first American that actually showed any kind of respect or any kind of friendship toward him. I smiled at him and said, "See, we are not all the white devil." He smiled and shook his head as he laughed.
Communication is the key to true peace.
I was at a museum one after noon in Cincinnati, Ohio and I saw a man of Arabic descent rolling out his prayer carpet. He kneeled down and started to pray. Now this is in the hall way and people were looking at him as if he was doing something immoral. In fact some people actually were stepping over him to go past. They should absolutely no respect. I finally stood to shield him from the people. They asked me what he was doing. I told them, "He is praying. Something that we should do more of." 

We need to learn to respect each other. You don't have to AGREE but just to respect.


Think about it with Communication Applications on Itunes you can speak in 135 languages for FREE! With Communication we can undo the separation and the confusion of language barriers. As Rodney King was said, "Can't we all just get along?"


Think about it. If we could just be nice to one another it would be so much better. Yes, I know that you have bad apples every where that you go but we don't all have to be that way toward each other.


Here are some thing to try that might bring you out of your cocoon and into the light. 

1. Say Hello to every one that you meet.
2. Try to find out their favorite food or drink.
3. Read about a different culture.
4. Get a passport.
5. Take a trip to another country.
6. Learn a different language.
7. Get a book in another language and interpret it to your language.
8. Go to a restaurant that has a different food culture.
9. Smile
10. Help some one today.


Now, enjoy the rest of these photos. I have noticed that I have readers now from all over the world! Make sure that you leave a note to tell me something about your self. 
What is your favorite food or drink?
What is your favorite holiday and why?
How have you dealt with Racism?
Say Hello to me and let's be friends!


I'm picking the day of our Independence, July the 4th as Peace day.
Can we all just have one day where no one hurts each other?
One day where there is no killing, shooting, stabbing, beating or abortions? 
One day when we lay our arms down and just take a break from the killing?



Did you know that in World War 2 that the Germans and the Americans actually laid down their arms while on the battle line and they sang Christmas Carols. They actually came together for one day on Christmas day to have Christmas in Peace. They actually shared the camp fire and ate as they sang. 
 I know this because my Uncle was there.




This is a painting that I did called "The Doves of Peace"

















At the end of the day we are still on this ball of mud and we might as well enjoy each other.