Becoming One of the Few

I would not say that I have been callous. I wouldn't even say that I have been unaware. I grew up in one of the few integrated schools in a rural area of my state. Growing up, I saw first hand the hateful epithets hurled at my friends. I have a mother, sisters, aunts… I have seen each struggle for respect of their skills and abilities at one time or another.

I wasn't callous -- but I also was not one of them. Growing up as a white male I can say that neither my gender nor my ethnicity served as a significant stumbling block. Don't get me wrong, I am no fan of affirmative action. I feel that such a system only serves to divide people who should be drawn together. Unfortunately, like democracy, it seems that affirmative action is the worst solution to the problem of discrimination except for all of the other solutions that have been tried or proposed.

But I digress…

My position was sympathetic but a bit uninvolved. An issue which concerned me only tangentially. Only a small, extreme element argued that my very existence posed a threat to civilization -- a small group with no real power or voice. That was when I was one of the many.

I find that has changed. Legislators appear on television and propose that my Second Amendment rights be curtailed without judge or jury because I am a "danger". Talking heads posit that I should have the scarlet letter of "bi-polar" placed in my school records or in my work files. Others suggest that registration is in order, allowing people in the community to know when and where I live -- like a sex offender.

Now I am one of the diagnosed. One of the "certifiable". One of the few.