“And then he looks right through me as if I wasn’t there….a stranger to my eyes”
Before soft powers and soft skills, there was soft kill (Killing me softly). And yes, the singer was black.
What were we thinking when we took on “hard killing”!
Our ancestors, Italian or Irish, Scandinavian or African, all had to tilt the land and planted those potatoes.
American wasn’t built in one day, and not by a bunch of feudal lords.
Sure, today we have drones to deliver the books and drop the fertilizers.
But years ago, we had to start somewhere, given the technology and politics of the time.
A nation of dreamers and doers, joined by trust and mistrust (hence the guns).
Then our technology gets ahead of our morality. We seemed to have settled our differences by using only one form of machine: the gun. No longer do we look to the Moon and challenge one another. Nor do we turn around to see who is catching up to us (most have passed us by, on one measure or another).
Strength: Universities and Universal Studio
Weakness: Bible belt and belly belt
I remember how much I enjoy the camaraderie and fellowship of college students. We were together, discovering possibilities and debating options.
We were all blue (jeans). Yes, there were Black Caucus (and now Asian American Caucus). But essentially, we were one: seekers and searchers (for the Truth).
In Speech class, I urged the audience (my classmates) to press on and uphold the ideal that sets us (America) apart: free enterprise and free speech, free commerce and free association.
Little did I know, the college I went to was tainted, and the graduate school I attended got a double black eye. Insult on injury, we heard young drifters on social media said “I have no choice”. At least, in the age of social, we caught News Media folks in the act of lying. But then, take a hard look at ourselves: have we done any better? Why do we forget the fruit of our labour , in agriculture and art, by way of the shirt we wear (100% cotton) and the music we hear. It’s still a wonderful world. Wish you would stand by me, instead of looking right through me, as if I wasn’t there.
Before soft skill and soft powers there was soft kill. And yes, she was black, beautiful and bursting with contagious vibes. And there he was this young boy, a stranger to my eyes. Strumming my pain with his fingers. Singing my life with his words.