humanity
Humanity topics include pieces on the real lives of politicians, legislators, activists, women in politics and the everyday voter.
Surviving Your Next Family Gathering
If it’s Easter, chances are you spent yesterday sitting on a Megabus stranded in a sea of other people on their way to the house of the nearest relative who knows how to hardboil an egg. You’ve been preparing the speech you’ll casually rattle off to assure your relatives that everything is going just fine. Last night you probably slept on a four poster twin bed next to a cousin you don’t really talk to, on an identical four poster twin bed, in your grandparents' guest room.
By Sidney Morss8 years ago in The Swamp
A Talk Between a White, Big Sister and Her Younger, Half Black Brother
Never once did I think this day would come. Never once did I think that I, at age 22, a white female, would have to sit my little brother down, age 14, half black, looks mostly black, and have “the talk” with him.
By Kenzie Lane Stapleton8 years ago in The Swamp
The History of Genocide
The two world wars were about fighting the Nazi genocidal agenda. The term “genocide" came from Raphael Lemkin in 1948 after he fled the Nazi occupation of Poland, arriving in the United States. Lemkin had been horrified the Turks slaughtered the Armenians in World War 1. Lemkin felt he had to come up with a term to describe what the Nazis had done. The term “genocide” comes from “combining genos, the Greek word for race or tribe, with the Latin suffix cide, “to kill.” During the Nuremberg trials, the term “genocide” first began to be used in the charter of the International Military Tribunal set up by the Allies in Nuremberg, Germany.
By Iria Vasquez-Paez8 years ago in The Swamp
Racism & Stereotypes, the Incurable Social Disease
In 1986, a young boy born in the Philippines was told by his parents that they would be moving to the US. 1986 was a turbulent time for the Philippines, a time when the Filipinos wanted change, they were growing tired of the corrupt system, a corrupt President, and a corrupt government. His parents thought it would be a good start, and since they were petitioned by a family member, they thought it would be a great opportunity for the whole family. At first the boy was excited, happy, at the same time he was curious what life would be like in an unfamiliar land. 30 years later and already a US citizen, he questions that decision, if it was the right thing to do. He realizes that he has no time to regret, no chance of turning back time, only time to reflect on his past experiences, Unfortunately for him, racism was a big part of that experience. This is his story...
By Albino Lokoh8 years ago in The Swamp
Debating to Compromise
To start off, I am an 18-year-old college student. While to some this may be an indication that I don't know what I'm talking about, set that aside for a moment. I have had years of debating and arguing under my belt, and from that experience I have learned what works and what doesn't. The art of debate is more necessary than ever in America. With vast anti-intellectual and partisan movements across the country, the "You're With Us or Against Us" mindset has been unfortunately spreading.
By William Valleau8 years ago in The Swamp
I Am an American
My name is Katherine. I am an American. Wearing the badge of “American” on my lapel comes with a long list of freedoms and rights that have been fought for and that many have made the ultimate sacrifice so that I may have them. I do not take lightly the freedoms I have been born into, nor do I wish for any American to be denied or stripped of these rights. I celebrate our diversity and our ever-changing culture in America. Our freedoms are detailed in our Constitution, a collection of amendments that Thurgood Marshall referred to as “a living document” in his 1987 lecture. Just as our people and cultures evolve over time so must the freedoms that protect them. Without amendments to the US Constitution, our country would still practice slavery and consider men the “head of household,” preventing women from voting in elections. I hold the right to vote and the women who fought valiantly for me to have that right very close to my heart, but I have found that my elected representatives are now being purchased by NRA money, not by my vote. Recently I have found that adults, teenagers, and children are being killed more frequently and more violently than ever before. I do not blame the gun. I do not blame the NRA. I do not blame my elected representative. Now, once I begin to see a pattern in the weaponry used, I start to question the gun. Once I begin to read statements purely in defense of the weapon used and not a word in regards to the murders a particular gun caused, I start to question the NRA. Once I begin to see that certain legislation is not being brought forward and that action is not being taken because of large donations from the NRA to campaign funds, I start to question my elected representative.
By Katherine Smith8 years ago in The Swamp
On Poverty and Dignified Exits
"I don't understand the point of living in a capitalist society if the people aren't happy. And you know, I'm old I remember a time when you didn't have to work all of the time to make ends meet, just to pay the rent and get by..."
By Danielle Dragani8 years ago in The Swamp
Why Do I Act 'Woke'?
I always get the question "Why are you so woke?" and I just cannot stand this question; it literally irritates so much. Just because of the fact that I don't let people tell me anything they want to while you just sit there and accept it does not mean I’m woke. I don't always say things to people when they are in the wrong but I know what I can handle. That's like when TheToday Show made a model of what they say Queen Nefertiti would have looked like and it was a tan white woman, even though everyone with sense would know that Egyptians were black. I mean, they were in Africa in the Archaic period. After that, Twitter went to town on The Today Show, making sure they knew that Egyptians were black. I would not call that woke, though. It's just that people love being ignorant so I mean why not just cut them off right at the start?
By Anaya Chambers8 years ago in The Swamp
What's Wrong With the Boys?
I remember evenings as a young boy, my Dad would come home from work. My little brother and I already busy bothering my Mom and antagonizing each other. My Dad would come down to the basement and we’d rough-house, we’d slap-box and and toss footballs and do push-up competitions and race down the hallway. I can still hear my Mom shouting things from the kitchen like, “It’s all fun until someone gets hurt!” My Dad would calm us down and after dinner he’d come back downstairs with us. He’d tell us goodnight and we would just talk. We’d talk about our day, and we’d talk about whatever we were going through; our fears, our triumphs. Our failures and our adventures. It was a moment in the day that was meaningful for all three of us, and in looking back, it was those moments that taught me that it was okay to be vulnerable, and it was okay to talk about how I felt.
By Patrick O'Neill8 years ago in The Swamp
What Would Jesus Do?
It's hard to pin-point the moment that my disbelief really began. Like most who don't affiliate with a religion, it wasn't necessarily a specific moment as much as it was a series of moments in conjunction with my environment that lead me to where I am now. Having said that, I do remember moments in my childhood that shifted my paradigm. Small cracks in the veneer of my youthful suspensions of disbelief. The shooting massacre at Columbine occurred four days before my tenth birthday. It was a Tuesday and that night I remember my parents trying to explain what had happened in whatever way you explain something that horrible to a kid that age. Later that week, I remember sneaking into the TV room late one evening after my parents had gone to bed, I watched re-run news coverage and I just sat there; stunned, confused, and scared.
By Patrick O'Neill8 years ago in The Swamp
November 9, 2016
I was at work when the weight of reality began to tip the scales. It was a Tuesday. Considering the current events, it was a Tuesday we’d known would be slower than most. So, I had my laptop perched on a table in the back of the bar, and between zesting manhattans or pan frying scallops, each of the employees and myself would find small moments we could go and peak at the screen, away from prying eyes. As the early evening drifted into the dinner hour, the crowd appeared to dwindle instead of grow. The normal rush hour traffic, usually buzzing around 1st Avenue, was quiet. The white-haired man on my laptop was hurriedly pressing boxes on a wall length touchscreen, appearing confused and panicked as he tried to explain what we were all seeing. By this time, we’d usually be busy taking orders and 86’ing dishes, but the place was almost empty, just a couple people sitting over drinks, scrolling screens by themselves.
By Patrick O'Neill8 years ago in The Swamp
