I live in a rural community.  There aren't any sidewalks here, a good twenty minute ride to the closest supermarket.  I moved here in December 1995, after experiencing a breakin to my apartment, a mugging with my small children present at 3pm in an open area and the discovery that my children had found crack vials in the park and stuffed them in their pockets.  And I lived in a good neighborhood!  So I decided for the sake of my children, to leave the bright lights and big city for this tranquil life. 

After moving to  such a desolate place, I found myself alone.  I didn't have a driver's license, so I was trapped with the children and my dog "Goliath" a red nose pitbull.   I made the best of my situation.  There were houses in the vicinity, but all I saw were cars at night.  Knowing that everyone must be very busy with their own families, I stayed busy with the kids and my housework. 

Then one beautiful spring day, I decided to take the kids and the dog for a walk.  For the first time, I saw an older lady with beautiful silver hair at the top of my long driveway.  My children being young, ran and called out "Grandma".  As I neared the top , she stood with her hands on her hips, a stern look on her face.  "What happened?" I wondered.  She stood in a defiant stance and blurted out "Why don't you take your beast and go back to your country, you wetback!"   What?  Did I just hear what I thought I heard?  And in front of my babies?!   When I recovered from the shock I answered "You know you need Jesus and I am going to go home and place a call to have a thousand souls praying for you."  You would have thought that I used obscenities.  The profanities that came out of her were streaming the anger and violence that she harbored in her deepest reaches.

That was the beginning of my struggle in this community of 94% caucasian inhabitants.  Since then, I have walked the roads and found flags hanging from porches and garages.  Confederate Flags.  For those of you that want to believe that experiences like mine are not common in America everyday, let me tell you otherwise.

I was born in Manhattan, NY.  A product of some of the best Catholic Schools in the Bronx, college in Manahttan.  My children were also born here. Unfortunately, my son has been called the N word since kindergarten.  Oh, and by the way, he isn't black.  He happens to have the darkest skin color in his class.  He went to school for years before having an African-American in his class.  He was the closest to an African-American and so he was on the receiving end of the hate. 

Still, I would help my neighbor if she needed it and I have taught my children that people that hate like that need to be shown kindness.  Why?  Because the scarcity of kindness in their lives has caused them to create a scape goat for their hate. 

I love this country.  I have many, many relatives that serve or have served in our military.  I cherish my freedoms and the privilege of having been born an American.
Our preservation of life and our compassion is unsurpassed.  But one thing that I can't close my eyes to or agree with as I read the papers, watch the news, or surf the blogosphere is that these are isolated incidents.  This happens everyday.  If you are not of another culture, race, or color (other than caucasian) then you would not know, would you?  If you believe all is well where you live, I have one thing to say: 
Ignorance is bliss...and it is the opum of the masses.