Wars are fought over religion. The Supreme Being is called by different names. People distrust, belittle, hate, or kill others because of their religious beliefs. Yet, it all boils down to a simple rule that appears in the holy books of all major religions. Some call it the “Golden Rule.” (Put the cursor on the chart and use Ctrl X while scrolling to enlarge so you can see everything.)
If you enjoy visiting landmarks but, like me, have a disability or family member with one, here’s good news: our national landmarks are upgrading their access. A good example is the Golden Gate National Recreational Center in San Francisco, which thousands of people with disabilities visit (or try to) each year. Soon there will be signs in Braille, audio directions, trails and beaches with wheelchair access, and guided tours specifically geared toward disabled visitors. We’ll be able to enjoy touring Alcatraz Island, Muir Woods, Lands End, Marin Headlands, Ocean Beach—most of the 75,000 acres of shore and woods that are part of Golden Gate. We’ll be able to bask in a sunny, salty breeze on the beach, glory in a gorgeous sunset, cringe at where prisoners lived, maybe even hug a tree, if we’re so inclined (I admit that I am so inclined and have frequently engaged in that activity).
If it can happen at America’s largest national urban park, it can happen to all of them, including one near you or on your vacation itinerary. At least, thanks to the settlement of a long, drawn-out lawsuit regarding access, that’s what should happen. Of course, the Park Service has until Sept. 2019 to comply, but some improvements should start showing up soon—in time for this summer, I hope.
Enjoy!
Today, I watched a person begin a new life. I first knew him when he was in my high school English class, far more interested in the girl sitting next to him than in the heroine of the novel I was trying to teach. Now, after many years in prison, he is free again. The first thing he did was to thank God for his freedom. Then he went to the cemetery to visit loved ones whose funerals he couldn’t attend. He arrived at my house around 11:30 to thank my husband and me for never losing faith in him and keeping in touch..and to play with the dog, which he’d longed to do for a long time. After a short visit he was off to Los Angeles to his temporary home with the sisters at The Francisco Homes.
He spent his time Inside finishing his B.A. and taking other correspondence courses in Bible and theology. He was active in his Chapel and refused to take part in any violence, including declining to strike back either the time he was stabbed or the time he was beaten. He made it a point to help other inmates and to be a peacemaker between races. In short, he spent his years growing up, trying to atone for his crime, and learning to be a responsible, caring adult.
Is he a saint? Of course not. He did something bad, and he served the time the judge gave him. When family and friends dropped off, as they almost always do after a year or so, he made new ones through letters. Those of us in contact with him saw the changes he made, all for the good.
The point is, he’ll have a hard time out here, adjusting to technology that is new to him, making new friends who can get over their fear of ex-cons to get to know him, recovering from sticker-shock when he shops, getting a permanent place to live, getting a job, living a free, law abiding life.
People like him are often shunned by our society. They’re feared, looked down on, avoided. We certainly don’t want our kids around them, even if their crime was not related to children or sex. But why? All of us have experienced the good luck of getting away with speeding, hit-and-run (not sticking around when scratching a car), theft (absent-mindedly not paying for something in the basket), disturbing the peace, tax fraud (fudging on tax returns)—all sorts of things. These people may have done worse, but, unlike us, they got caught. Now we pass judgment on them that’s worse than the court imposed. We forget that they, too, are part of our human family and, as such, their lives have worth, especially those who are working hard at doing right.
I wish my friend luck, because he’ll need it. For the rest of us, I wish expressions of patience, compassion, and, yes, a little basic Golden-Rule love.