Tag Archives: hate

OCEANS

I could become an ocean

If I unleashed the rivers of tears

Building behind eyes seeing,

Building behind ears hearing,

Building behind a mind

Buried in grief over what I find

Hidden within family and friends,

I thought were of a kind;

Who saw hate and felt repulsion,

Who heard lies and became disgusted,

Who watched inhumanity and scowled,

Who with outrage spoke aloud.

Instead, they smirk and smile,

And change the subject acting proud

To shut down discussion and discomfort at discussing hard truths.

Either they are in avoidance of discord;

Or worse, they approve of lies and hate,

And are simply happy to see hate flourish.

They are not the least discouraged.

I could become an ocean.

Instead, I check my emotion.

I seek to find some common ground.

Impossible when they shut all true conversation with me down.

Is this what pushes us apart,

a river of tears breaking canyon

walls of disagreement apart?

I could become an ocean

Washing them away as I allow

My tears to flow.

Until the valley of tears

Washes hate clear

And silts and nourishes the soil

That love may once again grow.

I could become an ocean.

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KILL THEM ALL?

Fraud plot in which some Somali immigrants participated? All Somalis are garbage so get rid of them all.

Criminal activity in which some African-Americans engage? All African-Americans are garbage. Get rid of them all.

Investigations and questions by journalists you find troublesome? All journalists are garbage. Get rid of them all.

Some women refuse your advances and sexism? All women are garbage. Get rid of them all.

Venezuelan boaters survive an illegal attack at sea? All Venezuelans are garbage. Get rid of them all.

Democrats pass legislation restricting corporate greed? All Democrats are garbage. Get rid of them all.

Military heroes remind military personnel to refuse unlawful orders? All military and veterans are garbage. Get rid of them all.

CEOs defraud, overcharge for goods and services, underpay workers? All CEOs are garbage. Get rid of them all.

Some White people commit crimes? All white people are garbage. Get rid of them all.

Some men abuse and rape women? All men are garbage. Get rid of them all.

Some bankers hide criminal gains, make money off the deposits? All bankers are garbage. Get rid of them all.

Hate has no logic except its power to destroy.

Hate has no reason except its delight in abuse.

Hate has no goodness in thought or in deed.

Hate is a damning influence and creed.

Hate is the one thing no one needs.

Some people hate? All people are garbage. Get rid of them all.

Hate until no one is left alive, no one at all.

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MY FELLOW AMERICANS

MY FELLOW AMERICANS

I hold my tongue.

It takes strength I do not have.

Whimpers escape

On shattered breaths,

In silent screams.

The fight worries my soul,

Battle weary and choking,

On words held tight inside.

Once the scream begins

I doubt I could stop.

I wait for your speech.

I yearn for your promise

To stop the authoritarian

Who has taken over our house,

Emptied its vaults,

Stolen its wealth,

Sold its power

To the highest bidders.

So, I write. That I can do

While I wait for you.

To me, this nothing new.

Do you believe me now?

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AWAKENED

Photo by Louis on Pexels.com

This is no way to wake up.

Perhaps, it has become the only way.

We may have stayed asleep too long.

we may have missed the call

of our immigrant ancestors.
We may have been too deep in our own dreams.

We may not have heard the alarm

in the voices of those awake,

and made to suffer

while we dreamt on.

We may have found dreams

easier to focus beyond

the painful reality

that comes with the dawn.

Becoming awake means

it is not too late

to set aside hate

which weakens all bonds,

and love our country enough

to make it strong enough

to end the nightmares.

We can and we must 

awaken to a new dawn.

I am awake and I quake

in the light made by evil heat

that feels punishing and wrong. 

Today, I uneasily awake

determined to push on

past those who tell us

some of us

do not belong.

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D.E.I. and I

Photo by Nicholas Swatz on Pexels.com

I have stayed away from words, 

breathless, in my grief,

for too long.

Diversity is my faith.

Equity is my hope.

Inclusion is my love.

Each breath I take is a promise

that things will be better someday.

And, they have been for a time,

in places expanding across space,

across multiple divides.

In a school, then university.

In a church, then a community.

Across a state, on national forums

Each breath inhaled the hate,

expanded and expelled love in its place.

Breaths took down barriers, created programs,

enacted policies, changed syllabi,

created courses and news ways of seeing,

new avenues of progress, new ways of being.

The backlash always came,

in drips and drabs, all the same.

But this! This! It is a fearsome game.

It is not D.E.I. which they decry.

They want to see us hold our breath

and die.

They SNAP food from the mouths of babes.

They ask the aged and disabled to work their own miracles,

heal themselves without medic-aid,

waste away, and die.

They place tariffs on those who stood at our side.

Making us all pay more for less to save their pride.

They fill their pockets with our labor,

changing coins to crypto for their greedy favor.

They extort heroes who fight to protect freedom world-wide

so that dictators and killers can be by their side.

They miss the days when the few controlled the many.

They refuse to compete, or share even one penny;

pennies earned from our labor, not theirs.

Lately, it seems we have not got a prayer.

We seldom did. But, do not despair.

What we did have was the freedom to try.

Now, our hard-won freedom to speak and act is denied.

We are being denied the right to even try.

We still have one another, and our God-given rights.

We will never allow those to be shoved aside.

And at the end of this life we shall hold hands and sigh

We tried. 

We tried.

We tried!

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SWEET LITTLE OLD LADIES

Photo by SHVETS production on Pexels.com (THIS IS NOT MY NEIGHBOR…LAnnarino)

This is the face of white supremacy,

the sweet little old lady

who lives down the street from me.

She praises the Walz-Harris and 

Sherrod brown signs in my yard.

She gleefully says they make her happy.

I offer the extra signs I have to put in her yard.

She gracefully declines, “my family

would make it hard on me.

Photo by Life Matters on Pexels.com

“So, your family bullies you,” I reply.

Taken aback I watch her smile fade.

“Yes,” she says,” I suppose that’s true.”

“It is just that Black people are so…”

her hands in the air waving away thought…

“They want to take over the country, but ought not.”

“Do you hear what some white people shout,

about taking over government to have their way?

Do you fear them taking over the country?” I say.

A look of confusion crosses her face.

I ask if she thinks every white or Black person

is the same, and if blanket descriptions are really O.K.

This sweet little face now looks away.

Then turns with a frown and admits it’s unfair.

I have family who are MAGA, too, I explain.

If they do not like my signs I simply reply

that they should put out their own signs

and take responsibility for their incivility.

She tells me she is really afraid,

for once glad to be old with death on its way.

I remind her of all dangers she has faced.

I smile and encourage her to take her place

among our past heroes who gave voice to renew

the promise of America for me and for you.

I promise her she is stronger than even she knows,

that together we are strong enough to fight any foe.

I remind her everyone fears what the future portends

She nods and she smiles but her eyes tell a different story

She yearns for the time when being white

meant she could claim control and full glory.

I am an old white lady, but have never been sweet.

Being real is neither pretty nor neat.

I handle truth in its complexity,

dirtying my hands and feet

placing signs in my yard,

refusing to give in to hate and racism.

Ugly truth-teller is my only “ism”.

Silence is complicity.

Fear and hate do not deserve pity.

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SIGN STEALER

A restless night wondering if the sign is still in place.

The sign I had to replace.

The young white man in the white SUV

loaded the Harris sign in his car’s rear

compartment, deportment of theft.

What cause does he serve?

My neighbor called to report, quite unnerved

as she saw him hurry my sign inside

then jump in the back seat of his ride.

I wondered at first to pause and consider

if the thief is motivated by hate,

or greed for a sign of his own.

Wishful thinking, I know.

Hate burns so fast, 

Yet, we respond too slow

to catch the numbers on the license plate

of the vehicle likely stacked 

with signs this crew used to show hate.

The sign has been replaced, another “on-order”

just in case the thief returns to take more plunder.

And, as I always have done, still I wonder

what motivates such sinful behavior.

Mild, stealing a campaign sign may be;

but, crossing hate’s boundaries,

moving over mine to steal my sign

shows hate’s design clearly, not merely

a sin old as time, and hard to contain

once such boundaries are crossed.

Such sins raise an alarm,

where and when would this thief

decide to cause even more harm?

Hate, once acted upon, fuels the fire;

and harming another grows in desire.

Words matter, you see.

they motivate young men such as he

to cross over boundaries once firmly in place.

Such is a nation’s disgrace 

to act as if this campaign

is simply another political race.

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WRITING ON THE WALL

Photo by SHVETS production on Pexels.com

The swastika was painted on the outside gym wall.

Underneath the words

“Die, fish eaters, die.”

Anti-semitism is broad

and crosses lines

in so many ways.

Victims are sought among Jews,

Catholics, and Romany, too.

No one is excused

from the hate and need to show

that the hater is bigger, stronger,

in control of a world

they feel is out-of-control.

Seeing hate painted on my school

was frightening to see but not the end

of the feelings inside, the birth of my pride.

Cowards in the night sent me such fright.

Unleashing their hate, leashed my own.

There is no place for hate 

in my world, nor yours.

Cowards and bullies never win.

They always over-extend.

Hate destroys them from the inside, not out.

Love builds up inside their victims, then out

it flows to every other sister and brother.

What do I know?

What do I fear?

Not a swastika, nor white hood.

I fear those who refuse to do good;

who remain silent and unmoving

in the face of a racism, sexism,

anti-semitism and hate speech;

who laugh at jokes meant to harm and disarm;

who refuse to recognize the alarm

screaming in protest and marching along

streets paved with prejudice and fear.

Who see the writing on the wall

and walk away to gated communities

and streets paved with gold.

They allow the old stories to take hold.

I walk the streets where the injured gather

amid the brave souls who know what matters,

and protect those under attack.

The brave who insist we take truth and love back.

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BORN IN THE USA

Photo by Daniel Bendig on Pexels.com

Being born in the USA

does not make me better.

It makes me luckier.

Winning the lottery

brings euphoria.

Sharing the winnings

brings me satisfaction.

That is love in action.

My question is always

one taught me by JFK.

Not, “what can my country 

do for me?”.

But, “what can I do 

for my country?”

The only way

to make America better

is to remind myself

I do not matter

more than any other 

American, immigrant

or refugee.

I do not matter 

more than any other

African, Asian, Latino

nor European.

Each of us hopes to be free.

Each of us has our own journey.

Some of us are luckier than others.

All of us are sisters and brothers.

My country is better

when I am better, kinder, truer

to the home of the brave

and the land of the free

where democracy demands

I stay on guard against those

who would embrace autocracy.

This is what America asks of me.

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LOVE ‘EM OR HATE ‘EM

Cousins at play in public park: Tina, Victoria, Louise Annarino 1954

I have seen this hate before. I could not understand it then.I do not understand it now. When my mother lay dying it became clear to me that the only measure of a life is the ability to love. A body shriveled by cancer’s reach into every cell, wracked by pain, realizing death is near holds onto love, not life. Death’s grip is too fierce to break. But, the only thing death cannot destroy is love. I saw it in my dying mother’s eyes, reflected in my own. That love binds us still. It always will. So, no, I do not understand the need to hold onto hate when love is so much stronger. Love reveals our strength to us; hate, our weakness. Love displays our courage; hate, our cowardice. So, no, I do not understand hate.

As child of Italian immigrants, growing up in the 1950’s, in a neighborhood populated by two German immigrant families, dozens of Italian immigrants and a few Irish immigrants, I learned my place. Venturing too far away from the four block area adjacent to the railroad tracks we inhabited brought me to the Appalachian whites nearby, who could not afford to live anywhere else, so had to live near the despised and hated immigrants. Our Catholicism, a commonality of each immigrant group, did not endear us to “Americani”, either. We learned to ignore their taunts and sneers, threats and minor assaults with whatever weapon they wielded…a switch from a shrub, a golf ball, a pitched badminton racket, a rock. We were careful to avoid the “hoods” carrying switch blades. Skinned knees caused while running to escape and falling, split lips or bruises were not uncommon. To be clear, not all of those “Americani” participated in bully tactics; but, too few fully embraced us, and none defended us. I have seen this hate before. I have felt this hate before.

My parents explained that hate is not universal. Only cowards and ignorant fools cling to hate. Most people know how to love. Thus, we were admonished to never hate anyone. Stay strong. Show love no matter what. Be brave. Never start a fight; but, never run from one. Stand up to bullies. They are weak, fearful cowards and will back down. Hate is not endemic to white people, nor to any group. But, within every group there are cowards…bold, brassy, loud and stupid cowards. We held our ground at the playground. We ignored the jokes and jibes. We ducked the projectiles. We moved forward when told to get back, staring with fierce determination to continue to swing, to play ball, to run races. We seldom allowed hate to stop our games and ruin our fun. I learned to withhold my smirk when I saw the bully fall back and slink away. I learned to love despite the hate directed my way. I invited the bully to stay and play. Some did. Thus, we broke the force that would have driven us away from enjoying our childhood. We grew strong, fearless and full of hope for better days.

The recent anniversary of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy brought back these childhood memories. When the announcement of his death came over our PA system every class adjourned to the chapel at our Catholic high school. We prayed the rosary together. We prayed for comfort, peace and love in our country. Then, we were sent home to grieve with our families. I gathered my books,  not knowing what to expect next, and when school might resume. Across the street was a public junior high school. As I walked by on my way home, clad in my school uniform identifying me as a Catholic, one  by one, several public school students shouted at me, “We finally killed him!” “He got what was coming to all you filthy Catholics !” “ This is what happens to Catholics who don’t know their place.” I remember these taunts and all the others. They are tattooed on my heart and on my brain. I even can feel the look of confusion on my puckered brow, wondering how these young kids could hold so much hate for their own president, and for me, a total stranger who had done them no harm. How could they so dishonor the wonderful country we shared, and its democratic principles.  No one is more aware of or more grateful for American principles than immigrants are. These long-time inhabitants seemed not to recognize such values at all.

That was then. This is now. Ignorant people still cling to their hate. But the indifference to the haters, the lack of comment rebuking haters which I expected but sadly never heard led to this day. Now, hate is fueled by the right wing of the Republican Party, and not condemned by its members. Worse, its chosen presidential candidate, whose first election succeeded because of, if not regardless of, his hate-spewed speech and hate-filled acts toward people of color, women  and non-Christians is further encouraged to continue hate-filled policies and practices which will kill our democracy as surely as it killed Medgar Evers, Emmett Till, John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, and Robert Kennedy. I have seen this hate before. I did understand it then. I do not understand it now.

I always knew I became a lawyer to stand in the way of those who blocked programs, policies and practices which honor diversity and seek justice for all. I would be in position where such efforts could be implemented and enforced. Only now, do I understand it was my armor to protect that child in me who still believes that good can prevail once we are willing to stand up to bullies; whether that bully is a landlord, bank, or company. The law is the bulwark against hate and harm, against greed and abuse of power. Now, I watch my beloved Law and its Courts undermined  by those bullies by Republicans in state legislatures and the U.S.Congress, by Republican governors and secretaries of state and states attorneys general who support a bully as their fund-raising cheer-leader to cover their own dark deeds. The alternatives are not to choose between two evils; but, to choose good over evil. To choose love over hate. I watch the silent white supremacists alongside them allow them free rein. People of Color, Native Americans, immigrants have always known the Law favored the wealthy and powerful, majority of them white men. Now, we all recognize the system that has been in place for so long. As a nation we are reaping what we allowed to be sown.  I still do not understand the hate that has allowed this to go on for so long. But, I will still fight such hate with love; until my dying breath…then beyond.

I know how to survive bullies. I am not worried for myself. I watch my country try to survive the bullies, those they eat dinner with at their private clubs who are shocked by what they see…what the oppressed have always seen. Yet, they stay silent or act entertained. Or worse yet, they choose to ignore what they have not wanted to notice.  It is my countrymen whom  I hope will uphold its constitution, its citizens I hope will stand up to bullies and vote them out of office before it is too late. The power of bullies’ wealth can be overcome  by our numbers, if we vote. That is a big if. Mobilize, register, transport and assist voters to the polls. Write Letters to the Editors. Speak out on social media to friends and family. Meet your neighbors and recruit their support for the efforts it will take to stay the course of a democratic republic. I do not understand the hate. I never will. It does not matter. What matters is I will not allow hate to rule my country, nor anyone in it. I choose love, a love embodied in a country which puts no man above the law, and believes all men are created equal, with unalienable rights. I took an oath to uphold the constitution. I took an oath to love.

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