Westward Winds of Change

Wichita, Kansas in the 1970’s offered little cultural diversity or diversions for a Third Grade bookworm, proficient in two foreign languages, and still in awe of the Wonders of the World. The Grade school had not only mandatory tornado drills, but also mandatory Holy Rolling. Every Wednesday afternoon, a trailer overflowing with Bible Stories and the accompanying pages to color, influenced and instructed young minds in the ways of White Jesus and his unimpeachable good. White, it seems, was the only color attributed as good or right.

My two best friends, Lukeeta, of African-American descent, and Elizabeth, of Hispanic descent, felt their “otherness” by lack of representation of each of their respective races in any school curriculum media. I felt their otherness through “guilt by association.” My Mother and German Grandmother forbade my going to “that side of town,” defined as The Projects for Lukeeta, and a trailer park for Elizabeth. My first taste of racial and class prejudice was served under the guise of parental concern for my safety. Their words heavily seeded the clouds of intolerance and made my air oppressive.

Amidst the banterings of Meathead and Archie of All in the Family fame, Helen Reddy’s ERA adopted anthem, I Am Woman, Cesar Chavez’s fight for migrant farm workers, and the end of the Vietnam War, I felt, even at this young age, the winds of change and I welcomed both the gentle breezes and tempestuous storms. Could there be such a United States of America where, truly, no person was judged by his or her race, class, gender or relationship life choices?

The 80’s answered the last part of this question with a resounding “NO!” The AIDS scare  brought Fundamentalist Christian Gay Bashing to unfathomable heights. Intolerance of sexual preferences dominated the days’ headlines. In 1985 women still earned only 68.1% of a man’s median weekly earnings, yet the cry of equal pay for equal work fall on ears tuned only to the fear of catching a ‘Gay Disease.’ “By the 1980s, Hispanic populations in regions outside the Southwest were growing faster” (USDA 1999) and received a modicum of press because this minority ‘stole white jobs.’

As Ronald and Nancy Reagan urge a country to “Just Say No” Billy Joel sings us a History lesson with We Didn’t Start the Fire, and a technological evolution beams bright on the Horizon in the way of the internet and more Freedoms to Information, I felt, even at this young age, the winds of change and I welcomed both the gentle breezes and tempestuous storms. The winds blew me Westward to a land of Decadence; Sin City; Las Vegas.

I was brought to, not the melting pot I had been taught was the United States of America, but to instead, a wonderfully eclectic cultural mix, more reminiscent of a beautifully woven tapestry, each culture represented by a unique thread and embellishment. As I walk the college campus, or shop in my community, my ears fill with foreign and unrecognizable languages; my eyes absorb the colors and hues of a myriad of skin colors, not just white. I see also non-traditional couples and observe the nonchalance of others towards them.

Though tolerance has grown considerably since 1973, prejudice still abounds. Tolerance in respect to race, class, gender, and sexuality in North America, should be abolished and replaced with acceptance. Diversity must be approached with enthusiastic curiosity. This goal can only be accomplished through education and exposure. As a member of my community it is my responsibility to affect change: to make the wind. For I know, even at this young age, I can harvest and direct the winds of change and embrace and nurture both the gentle breezes and tempestuous storms.