Universal Voting & Registration For Everyone

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I posted this back in November 2018 on another social media site. It generated a lot of white noise and argument.

 

“Just to be clear, I think that no one’s right to vote should be abridged – ever. The potential for abuse is otherwise inevitable.”

As radical as it seems to some, the simplest solution to all voting registration issues is to eliminate them all and implement universal registration without limitation, across all jurisdictions. Yes, even if you’ve been convicted of a felony; and yes, even if you are currently in prison. Barring any exemptions is one of the fairest means to ensure that political whim doesn’t interfere with people’s access to government. If you are over 18 and currently not dead, you should be able to vote if you wish to do so.

I’d like to be clear that my proposal in no way is intended to affect the number of people who actually vote; critics of universal voting often cite studies to substantiate claims that universal registration fails to result in more voters exercising their right. The crux of my argument goes to the attempted restriction of anyone’s right to vote, not whether they choose to exercise it. Having said that, there are several workable ideas to dramatically increase voter participation. Each person still decides whether to exercise his or her right to vote.

As a backdrop to my changes, I would, of course, implement federalized identification standards. Each citizen would be enrolled at a specified point: birth, school, driving, naturalization, etc. Identification systems would also include biometric data embeddable into the system itself. I’m not proposing a perfect out-of-the-box system. We’ll have to engage our collective resources and intelligence to ensure we address privacy concerns and logistics issues.

It’s difficult to imagine an advanced democracy and government which fails to maintain a complete list of its citizenry, for various purposes. While it’s my opinion, it’s one which seems necessary and efficient.

Note: if you are going to make a “we can’t trust the government” argument, or one involving the impossibility of maintaining a complex system, I’m not trying to reach you. A perfect system is impossible; even a well-organized one must be maintained by the government. We must always do the best we can with what we have, with the people willing to help achieve it.

For every argument made against my simple system, I can counter your argument with logic and technological safeguards. Instead of worrying about voter registration deadlines or varying laws across states, let’s wipe all voter registration requirements from the books and design a system which truly represents our collective right to vote.

Of course, there will be wrinkles which need to be addressed, just as there are inequities in our current patchwork system. Our tax system is flawed, and yet we rely on it to pay our bills. Each state and jurisdiction handles birth certificates differently, as they do with vehicles, property taxes, and all other methods of governance. We’re smart enough to figure out a better way to ensure everyone gets to vote. Technology and a dedication to providing guaranteed access to democracy is the right thing to do.

I’d like to start from scratch with a system which does not allow any state or federal government to tell a citizen he or she can’t vote. Universal registration and universal identification systems are an inevitability. It’s our system and our right to ensure that political whim doesn’t interfere with our access to the polls.

If you’re in favor of disenfranchising someone from their right to vote, all I can ask is that you investigate for yourself how such measures evolved. Secondly, I’d ask you to examine your personal motivation if you agree with measures which strip adults of their right to vote.

All the difficulties potentially mentioned with universal voter registration already have counterparts in our current patchwork mess of a system.

We spend so much of our time complaining and arguing about voter registration that we often fail to see that the problem itself exists because of the way we look at it. The discussion should always start with the question, “Why isn’t everyone always registered?”
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Arkansas Baptistan Trigger Legislation

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I originally posted this on another social media site in February this year.

 

Only a fool writes about abortion. It strikes to the core of so much of our political choices. Many insist that it defined the 2016 election, the one which substantially proved that collectively we are quite addlebrained when the call arises. I’m still confused by the fact that a man who encouraged his paramours to have abortions when he was younger could galvanize the evangelicals to such a degree on this issue.

This post deals with the idea of using religion as one’s sole justification to ban all abortions. It doesn’t directly address the idea of abortion as an absolute. It’s a distinction that most will ignore. There are legitimate and genuine reasons to wish to abolish most abortion procedures. I’m poking at those sanctimonious legislators who hold up religion as their defense as if such a thing resonates with the spirit of democracy.

I would be a bigger fool to discount all arguments against abortion. I’m not refuting them. I’m refuting the insistence that religion dictates certainty in regards to personal or public policy. Religion as an argument for or against anything can be stretched to fit any issue. Its malleability is what makes it a dangerous tool for political uses. People can easily use it for political purposes, much like Trump has done with several issues.

Anyone watching the arc of current politics can see that Roe V. Wade is going to be abolished – at least for a generation.

Abortion isn’t a religious issue.

It certainly isn’t an easy one, either, nor one inviting an easy fix. It’s an issue that encapsulates so much human pain, agony, and economics. There’s a reason it’s both so personal and complicated for both the individual and society. Whether we realize it or not, it’s a fair bet we all have family or friends who chose abortion in their lives.

It isn’t a religious issue in the sense you say it is, though.

If this were true, it would follow that all religious people would wish to ban abortion in Arkansas.

They don’t.

Especially given the proposed prohibition of cases involving rape, incest, and viability in the recent ‘trigger’ legislation. It’s a strange twist that a gun metaphor defines the bill.

It’s possible to be both a person of faith and in favor of a woman’s right to choose, whether we’d choose the same option or not. Let’s be clear: cases of rape, incest, and viability are issues outside the scope of secular legislation using religious arguments.

Many of faith would never consider abortion as an option. Unlike their other religious counterparts, they tread with caution when they have the opportunity to insist that their choices be mandated as the only options for other citizens. This is doubly true when instances involving rape, incest or medical issues cloud the circumstances for the person needing options. If those with strong religious convictions wish to serve by example, they’ll simply choose to forego abortion services. History has shown that they don’t however, and seek abortion services like their non-religious counterparts. Banning abortion will result in only those with resources will be able to get them safely; everyone else will use the inevitable underground system with its inherent risk.

The ongoing insistence that abortion is within the scope of religious oversight weakens all religious considerations precisely because it falsely asserts that all those of faith will endorse it.

The hypocrisy of claiming to speak for all those of faith is ridiculous. Many people living here in Baptistan don’t abide by the politics of harshness

Watching people of Jason Rapert’s caliber preach to the entirety of Arkansas and women, in particular, is the best approximation of tomfoolery that I can conjure. I’ll give him a minute, though, because he’s undoubtedly planning some new affront to rationality as I write this. He’ll have heaven on his side, no doubt.

You’re going to have to get a better argument.

Opposition to abortion rights is one of choice and orientation, not religion. It’s convenient for you if you’ve convinced yourself that it is, as it relieves you or any burden of further thinking on the matter.

If you insist that religion indeed demands that abortion become illegal, you can’t escape the responsibility of telling all others of faith that they are completely wrong or that they don’t understand religion.

Other viewpoints don’t matter.

Other citizens? Ignored.

Conduct unbecoming for a legislator and of anyone of faith.

We all have friends and family who’ve had abortions, even if you’re unaware of it. There are better options than abortion in most cases – but not all. I can’t imagine judging someone’s life and heart with sufficient grace to be able to know anything with certainty. All of us can do better, starting with those tasked with making laws which reflect a conflicted democracy.

Bless your heart if you disagree.

You Can’t Slap a Bucket of Mud

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Note: I originally posted this on another social media website.

 

To preface my commentary, I’d like to say that I enjoy reading the political discourse of the person I’ve referenced. He should have his own dedicated media. He’s smart, well-versed, and interested in many things. For a private citizen, his opinion carries far and wide in the United States. His presence on the internet is a net benefit to everyone.

Unfortunately for us all, it’s considered bad form to level any criticism against the things or people we enjoy. The person in question recently got it a little bit wrong, though.

A popular political commentator posted an incident in which he became outraged regarding a personal attack on one of his social media posts. I didn’t read it before it was deleted. Evidently, it was a targeted personal attack with outright untruth in it. He says he came within an inch of deleting his social media account. He mentioned that it’s essential that we remember that real people are behind the posts and that reputation is worth defending. He felt personally attacked and demeaned – and also that he’s sued people and corporations for such behavior.

He’s right, of course.

He’s also wrong, in a way that he would never give an ear to.

Some people spend an excessive amount of time tearing at public figures, politicians, and celebrities on social media. It’s true that some of this is customary and expected, especially when your public presence is part of your job. (Doubly so when you’re being paid by the public.)

You have to look at your own hypocrisy, though. Whether you hate Donald Trump, evangelical ministers, Democrats, or Catholicism, you have to realize that you are torturing real people. While it’s true that they often deserve harshness for behavior or opinion, it’s equally true that you’re guilty of tearing down another human being.

That we justify such tearing is a dark path. We can become forgetful of the fact that a person is on the receiving end of our ire, anger, and hatred. It’s how such sentiment can amplify and result in actual harm as we fail to disengage in the relentless accusations and anger. Over time, we become so distanced from interpersonal interaction that we always step over the line of acceptable human behavior. People observing us lose sight of the norms that keep us as we ratchet up the volume and insults. Soon enough, we’re all shouting, instead of focusing on the best idea.

Politics is a realm of trolls and anger. When we dive into the subject for our own entertainment, education, or benefit, we become part of the culture of hate that we supposedly despise.

If you delve into the quicksand of politics, you must be willing to subject yourself to the same mistruth, innuendo, and scorn that you might heap onto a (deserving) subject. Words written on the internet are just words, after all. They have no power except that which is granted to them. Whether people believe such content is beyond your control. I’m no better at immediately suppressing my anger at untruth directed my way; in my defense, I’m only a visitor to the political stage as I comment. For those who own their own platform, they can simply delete and block the offenders as they step forward.

In Trump’s case, he deserves a mountain of scrutiny. Most politicians do. If I were to become an elected or appointed official, I would deserve scrutiny and criticism for misbehavior.

But if you’re going to use Trump as a focal point of mockery and ridicule, you have to cede the point that he’s human, with human family and friends. Yes, he, of course, signed up for criticism.

On the other hand, so did everyone who uses him as subject matter for their social media and political fodder.

It’s hypocritical to devote much of your day to ridiculing public figures of choice and then recoil when someone takes liberty with your life.

In case you missed it, I’m guilty of the same behavior.

I think most of us are, even as we find discomfort in our ability to creatively interact without resorting to personal attacks.

If we attack human beings in the public eye, it’s hypocritical for us to become angry when others do the same to us. It’s a tough lesson. Most of us are simply lucky enough to avoid such scrutiny as we go about our day.

I don’t have a satisfying conclusion or a neat bow for this post.

I assume it’s okay to share imperfect ideas, worded imperfectly.

P.S. I still do not like Tom Cotton.

Financial Advisory

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For all of my friends who aren’t aware… In 2017, Equifax suffered a huge security breach, likely the largest ever. About 1/2 of all Americans had some or most of their private financial identifiers stolen. Most of the people I’ve mentioned it to seem to have no idea that it happened, much less that they are at severe risk of having their identities stolen or their credit ruined.

Equifax is offering a settlement, and the details are being finalized. While it is possible to easily file a claim and get a check of slightly more than a $125, I would recommend that you forego the money and opt for the 4 years of credit monitoring through the 3 major credit reporting agencies. Also, Equifax is offering an extension of 6 more years after the compulsory 4-year term lapses.

While I can’t force you to check your status on the settlement page, I can’t stress enough how important it is that you do so. I’ve always maintained that privacy is a unicorn; however, in events such as the Equifax data breach, I can promise you that you are gambling with your entire financial future if you ignore the risk. Here’s the direct link:

Link to check your eligibility and risk…

My name resulted in a positive. I, of course, signed up for the credit monitoring from all 3 of the major credit bureaus. This will allow me to reach out and expect assistance if and when my identity or credit history is used without my knowledge. It’s difficult to put a price tag on this sort of service. Anyone who knows someone who has suffered the agony of attempting to recover his or her history and identify after such misuse will tell you that is a personal hell of bureaucracy and paperwork.

Hopefully, your name will not result in a positive result. Even if it doesn’t, you should at a minimum be requesting a copy of your credit report once a year. Also, don’t get comfortable with the mistaken idea that you already participate in a credit monitoring system via your smartphone or one which is included with a credit card you might own. The truth is that the ones which are easily used often do not provide you the peace of mind and certainty that you believe that they do.

P.S. The website through which you can immediately see and download all 3 of your credit bureau reports: Link to get your annual credit reports…

Thanks, X

Congress: One House

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The Senate of the U.S. Congress is an antiquated and inequitable system that we should abolish. When I learned how Congress worked, I was surprised. It’s a self-evident charade. The Senate and the Electoral College both deserve abolition. The man who served longer in Congress than any other agrees with me.

“One man, one vote” and all arising corollaries support the argument that 100 senators, 2 per state, bears no direct relation to our prevailing general concept of democracy. Its existence arose out of a need to give a nod toward states rights during the formation of our country. Senators were chosen by state leaders with the intent of protecting the state and its interests – not the citizens. It no way arose out of a need to serve us equally. The necessities present during our country’s founding are no longer current; our adherence to such a system no longer helps us. The Great Compromise has compromised this generation’s ability to determine our own trajectory.

As for the Founder’s intent, I’m not particularly interested. The same Founders had some strange ideas about humanity. I owe them no allegiance simply because they preceded me. Each generation deserves the same ability to determine its course. That the Founders declared war to achieve their determination holds no more weight than our current right to choose our governance.

More simply put: the Senate represents geography, no people. There’s no way around it. It’s an alien concept to a modern person. To have legislation passed by the House and then refused a vote by the Senate is unacceptable. The United States is no longer a confederation of states: it is a robust and unbreakable body. In a sense, the Senate is an untouchable example of gerrymandering because states with fewer people, economy, and interests have an undue voice. Though it may paint me as a radical, I’d much prefer that the federal government have a majority voice in every instance over that of my state. Either we are a republic or we aren’t. We can’t be both fervent nationalists and states-rights advocates simultaneously.

“The existence of the Senate helps keep majorities from other areas having a larger say in our government,” some might say. No kidding? The Senate as it exists today already deprives me of representation, in part because I live life as a progressive trapped in a Southern state. I’m not sure how majorities in other parts of the country hampering my right to representation are worse than having closer parties do so. My state does not deserve a greater share of the decision-making process simply because that’s the way it’s always been done.

I’m not making my argument based on the current composition of the House. I believe the same even when the other party controls the body. Because my progressive voice is already lost in a Southern state, I don’t unduly fear the probability of party disparity. This is doubly true if we ever manage to eliminate gerrymandering of districts at the state level. I predict that we won’t, at least not for a generation, barring political revolution. If you’re going to attempt to weaken my argument, you’re going to need to choose another argument other than current political makeup of the House.

The Senate is a sanctimonious relic which needs to be dismembered. Any institution formed with any intent to protect slavery is suspect at best and ongoing fraud at worst. That a state with 40 million people has the same number of senators as one with less than a million is a travesty of just representation. I loathe the idea that we are so anchored to the past, one which is problematic at best. Due to rules in the Senate, filibusters give groups without a majority the ability to prevent votes on issues, withhold the right of appointments, and overall lessen people’s collective voice.

Rare is the Senator who feels humbled and privileged to serve as an elected employee of the people. Most tend to demonstrate a disengaged superiority and fail to understand that they are simply employees we’ve chosen to represent us.

The majority of Americans now live in 9 states and therefore have only 18 out of 100 Senate seats. Senators representing 5% of the total population can prevent any significant changes to the government due to arcane rules in place. Most people simply don’t understand how the Senate itself contributes to many of the problems which plague our government. As the population grows, so too does the issue with the Senate, precisely because the largest concentrations of people tend to lose a disproportionate share of their representation. California has more population than the combined smallest 20 states, yet has the same number of Senators.

Having a congress of one body, divided by population, would be a much better method of representation. All duties and powers currently exercised by the Senate can and should be distributed among our Representatives. Elections would be simpler, our legal process would be more flexible, and the idea that a Senator is of elevated status would disappear. Most people claim they want a simpler government. Eliminating one house of Congress goes a long way toward that goal. All the arguments I’ve in resistance to my opinion can be lumped under the heading, “We’ve always done it that way,” or “It would require effort.”

Factoring in the discord between the two houses of Congress, and it’s difficult to argue that one serves as a check on the other. Given the power of the executive branch, it’s essential that all the duties currently falling to the Senate should be based on genuine representative democracy, with the population being the primary determinate of deliberations, rather than artificially created power in the hands of Senators who do not proportionately reflect the will of the people. I’m not approaching this issue as a liberal or conservative; my main focus is proportional voice and power.

I would also lengthen the terms of Representatives from 2 to 4 years, with a term limit of 1 term. All representatives would be up for election every 4 years. All members would receive a salary equalling three times the current minimum wage, with no benefit after their terms of service are finished, other than their wages contributed to our social safety net, like any other citizen. I would also reduce the number of representatives in the proposed Singular House to 250. Yes, I realize that this lessens the hold some states have on power. Under a representative democracy, that’s the way it should be.

Smarter people have written about this subject. The more I’ve witnessed and learned, the stronger my belief that our bicameral system is a farce. I think states would do well to implement a one-house system as well. It’s time.

While I realize that such a move is practically impossible, I wonder whether we’ll address the disparity before political chaos envelopes us as a nation.

P.S. If you think that individual states could rescind their agreement to be a part of the federal government, I suggest you return to your bunker.

P.S. It’s All P.S.

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People sometimes ask me why I named my original blog “P.S. Parenthetically Speaking.” It currently resides at my own website, xteri.me

First, if you’re reading the written language, it’s safe to skip over anything contained inside parentheses. (Weirdly enough, if you’re doing math, the portion inside the parentheses is vitally important.) My blog was designed as a ‘take it or leave it’ valve for my life. I’m not curing disease or mapping the most efficient economic system in my posts.

Second, ‘P.S.’ is an afterthought and also able to be skipped without too much harm to the content. When letters were the rage, a ‘P.S.’ in a personal letter usually contained fond sentiments or a personal note to close the letter.

Third, most adults can’t spell the words parenthetically, parentheses, or daiquiri. (The last word, in particular, and especially if one’s been imbibing.)

Finally, I liked the idea of someone attempting to speak parenthetically. I’m not sure if this would entail them making wide arm brackets as they spoke. One of my fascinations with language is the disparity and complexity of the written language versus the spoken one. We spend much more of our lives speaking than we do reading or writing; yet, we’ve allowed our language to be our master.

P.S. Language doesn’t need to be difficult.

Years And Years (TV Show)

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For anyone interested, I recommend the HBO import show “Years and Years.” It’s dystopian from necessity, yet feels like a time traveler may have gone forward and returned to camouflage a possible timeline waiting for all of us.

Without flinching, the show throws you into a tailspin as Trump detonates a nuclear bomb near China as his second term expires. Technology, medicine, immigration, politics, money, and other issues swirl and coalesce as time frenziedly hurls forward, whether we’re ready or not.

Although it’s based in England, the storylines overlap with world events we’re already witnessing. The story focuses on a particular family as it spins in and out of control. The family could be any of us. Forces we’ve set in motion conspire against us.

Anne Reid, who plays the matriarch Muriel in the show (and who was phenomenal in “Last Tango in Halifax”), gets credit for the best line of the show: “It’s a terrible, terrible world, but I want to see every second of it.” She gets credit for the second-best lines in the show – and perhaps one of the best lines in a TV show, ever, when she points that each and every one of us is to blame for almost all the problems we see externally in the world. It’s impossible to watch it without wincing in recognition.

It’s easy to compare “Years and Years” to “Handmaid’s Tale.” This show, however, connects in a more recognizable way. You’ll feel some strange emotions as you watch the show unfold. Among them are dread, fascination, wonder, loss, a bit of terror, and hope. All of them fight for dominance, often simultaneously. Like the Hulu show, I find myself thinking about the implications of some of the ideas days afterward.

For anyone wishing to find something that is limited in length but infinite in the ideas it will provoke, I give this show a huge recommendation.

When time shifts forward in the show, the eerie melody that accompanies the shift might make your hair stand on end. You’ll be thinking, though.

And you might be thinking, “Is it REALLY us?”

Yes, it could be.

“Years and Years” is one of the best shows I’ve watched in quite a while.

The Unsettling Solace Of the Ruins

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This is a guest post.

Each of us has a hometown. Returning brings the blessing of memories and the bitterness of entropy enveloping what we remember.

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Trips to my hometown are usually quick and for a particular purpose. Occasionally during these trips, an investment of a few minutes is made to drive past the small house that was home to me for well over half my life. 

One of my earliest memories, if not the earliest, is of the day we moved in. I was not yet four years old. We lived next door, and my main contribution to the move was carrying my baby doll’s high chair down the front steps of that two-bedroom house (where a sheet divided one bedroom down the middle to accommodate my brother on one side and my sister and me on the other) to the larger (barely) three-bedroom.

This was home for the next 28 years–until my mother died—when it became a house-home mixture of sorts. It was never the same for any of us with her missing, but my father owned it for several more years before selling it and moving to a new town. 

In the bottom right corner of the photo is the front window to my bedroom. It often held a box fan in the summer and was covered with plastic on the inside during the winter to help block the cold draft. During my early teenage years, it held a view to and thoughts of a much bigger world beyond. 

The crepe myrtle outside this window was always one of my favorite things about the house. It provided a wonderful canopy for day or evening, and its delicate flowers and flaky bark were a constant enticement to touch. This crepe myrtle has never been subjected to the yearly scalping performed on many crepe myrtles, and so it has grown from the 10-foot (or less) height of my youth to the 30-40 foot beauty you see here. Knowing this tree as a friend from day one makes it feel as though the roots of this tree are deeply intertwined with the “roots of me.”

The photo is from the street in front of the house-taken today during one of those quick trips.  

Not all here was beautiful, though. Today brought the unsettling (and a bit devastating, being totally honest with myself) discovery of an abandoned home with a broken kitchen window and No Trespassing/Keep Out signs posted in various places on the property. Barring an unforeseen and unlikely miracle, this house will probably not exist within a few years. Based on the condition the structure and its outlying storage buildings are in, I hope it doesn’t. It would be far less painful to see a clean slate than to see the neglected and abused ruins of a home that held life and dreams for so many decades. Maybe I will drive past again during the next fast dash to the area; maybe I won’t. Maybe instead, I will ask friends who still live nearby to let me know when it is gone. I know this is not a situation unique to me, and maybe it makes no sense to many others who often moved in their growing up years; but, for today, I am sad about what is and miss what was. 

In Memoriam Of The Truth

 

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Deanne at her confirmation…

 

 

This post needs a preface. My last wife died suddenly over a decade ago. I was ten years older than she was. She came from a large family, one like so many others; dysfunctional and complicated. Deanne was the youngest of many siblings. Like so many of us, she made some terrible choices when she was younger. Her family mostly failed to adapt to the fact that she grew out of much of her youth. The church and religion were two separate entities in her mind. One, rooted in the practical and loving faith of her paternal grandmother in South Dakota, and the other, insistent on concealment and manipulation. Because of something that happened when she was young, Deanne’s appraisal of the church as a whole was marked by suspicion and lack of trust.

I posted this to Deanne’s ancestry records so that her truth would be preserved – and possibly outlive the revisionists who will read the words and be unable to resist lashing out against the truth I’ve shared. It’s uncomfortable hearing someone revise history or mischaracterize someone’s life. The purpose of my addition to Deanne’s posthumous biography isn’t to harm. The truth never harms unless those who hear it don’t wish to accept it.

 

Deanne Cordell was baptized in the Catholic church in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, on Nov. 28th, 1976, when she was two days old. Much of both sides of her family were Catholic. As she often joked, “I didn’t have a say in whether I was baptized, but I have a say about going to church.” Deanne loved her paternal grandparents, especially her grandmother Jessie Gosmire Cordell. She admired her faith and the way she lived it. Deanne often talked about how much she wished that people could have an open, honest, and compassionate faith like her grandmother. As for most other people, she had an intense impatience with their hypocrisy and lack of compassion toward those in need or those making mistakes. She’d look back at their life and see all the craziness and wonder how they didn’t recognize themselves in the lives of others, even as they criticized them. It caused friction with many people in her life.

 

I have no way of knowing what she was referring to or whether it was about her own life, but she knew a girl who had experienced some kind of abuse at the hands of clergy. She said that the girl had told her mother about it and had been punished repeatedly for lying about the church. It had a substantial impact on her views about the church. I tried to circumspectly discover the identity of the girl in question over the years. “It’s not a part of my life now, so it doesn’t matter,” she’d say. I knew it mattered, though.

 

By the time Deanne was an adult, she had grown to dislike the church intensely. She was unhappy with church politics, its policies, and also the way it concerned itself more with public relations than honesty. As an adult, she only attended church when mass was part of a Catholic wedding or funeral. Otherwise, she preferred to live a secular life. A great deal of her dissatisfaction with the church was the way so many had responded to her choices in life, some of them with great anger and disapproval. She found no holiness in their attitudes.

 

Oddly enough, had she remained in South Dakota or moved back as an adult, to be nearer her grandmother, I know she would have attended church with her. Her grandmother was her connection to faith, while her own mother was the wedge that distanced her from it. Her grandmother never held religion as a weapon and certainly didn’t sharpen it at people’s expense. Deanne admired that relentlessly.

 

Before she died, she talked about how ridiculous some of her family member’s ideas regarding religion were. One in particular was regarding cremation. She was fond of pointing out that those with the strongest views about cremation seldom managed to pay for their choice before departing, leaving other family members to bicker about the issue. When my Uncle Raymond died about a month before Deanne, it allowed us to talk about her own choices. She thought her mom’s antiquated ideas about cremation and Catholicism were ridiculous. She was adamant that she wanted to be cremated and not buried or memorialized in a Catholic church or cemetery. She was equally adamant that her middle name not be used. Given that I had legally changed my name, it was one of her wishes that she eventually change hers, too, and rid herself of the name. We joked a lot about choosing an entirely different name for herself, as I had done. Given enough time, I’m certain that she would have and I think she would have chosen “D” or “DeDe” as her first name. I had made and placed hand-painted “D” letters in a couple of places in the place we lived.

 

In my commentary, I’ve held back from the overt negativity Deanne had toward the church. She struggled to come to terms with her own beliefs, as most of do. She also struggled with her mom’s attitudes about religion, as they seemed to trigger her distaste for religion like nothing else. I’d laugh and talk her down from being angry about it. It’s part of the reason I still sometimes wonder whether Deanne was the girl she knew who had the story to tell about clergy.

 

Deanne has living family who would vainly attempt to revise my recounting of her attitudes. I was closer to Deanne than any other person in her life. No one knew her as an adult as I did. I married her when she was 20 years old. She died at 31. Many thought of her as the “kid” of the large group of siblings and half-siblings. They carried their prejudices about her youth into her adulthood and often discounted her opinions about life, whereas I only began to know her when her adulthood was starting. I had no preconceptions.

 

In the last year of her life, I attended a variety of different churches, trying to find one which might be worthwhile, despite my agnosticism. Deanne wasn’t interested in joining me. She was, however, interested in what I had to say about religion and the things I learned. Much to the surprise of many of her family members, she knew a great deal more than they realized. Many were simply too busy ignorantly trying to correct her instead of listening.

 

I write this in part because a few people have remarked that she was Catholic. She most certainly was not Catholic, despite the revisionist wishful thinking of some of those who knew her. Whether it is fair or note, Deanne would have much preferred a world without the church, or organized religion at all. One thing is certain: she believed that anyone involved in a sex scandal at church should not only be exposed and punished, but anyone protecting those who did so should be doubly punished.

 

I have no agenda to hide the truth or tarnish her image. Truth is its own reward, even as it leaves a bitter taste in some mouths.

 

X Teri

 

 

 

The Grudge Conclusion

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The Grudge Conclusion:

If you consume social media, you’ll get tired of simpletons saying that all grudges are synonymous. If someone doesn’t want to talk to you because you significantly abused or harmed them, it isn’t a grudge: it’s wisdom disguised as self-protection. If the simpletons persist in wrongly classifying your decision, they are clearly indicating to you that they hold a low opinion of you – or a disproportionate opinion of themselves.