Kenneth L. Hardin: A Life Lesson from Ostriches and a Child – Salisbury Post

By Kenneth L. Hardin

Since we now cover our kids with bubble wrap and tape to prevent them from experiencing the real world, I don’t know if there are carousels in parks anymore. When I did a bit of walking around the West End in the early 1970s, we earned our deserving Battle Hood medals by surviving this circular monstrosity and its equally evil cousin, the jungle gym. I remember going to the Miller Recreation Center with my two best friends, Perk and Spoon, and jumping on this rickety wooden structure. I gripped the metal handlebars like a kung fu grip as they ran around in circles so fast you almost lost consciousness. I can still hear the echoes of my funny, half-hearted screams begging my friends to stop the phone and let me get off. Almost 50 years later, and with all that is happening locally and in this country today, I want to shout the same statement: “Can someone please stop this carousel so I can get off?”

I hear the clichéd sentence that everyone says but no one really believes in. They say we need to turn down the temperature on all the dangerous and divisive rhetoric. Instead of lowering it, why not just stop it altogether? No one wins the war of words when one side tries to portray the other as the enemy. When we engage in “otherisms” and try to convince people that “they’re not like you,” no one really wins. It simply renders all other efforts we undertake, such as Dr. Martin Luther King Day celebrations, pointless and full of hypocrisy. On this day, people who on the other 364 days of the year show that they do not care about the equality and brotherhood of their fellow human beings stand in the pulpits of African churches and spew reams of insincere, harmful verbal excrement loaded with misused quotes from the King . I no longer attend the King’s Day events because I would rather not get sick from such a carousel. The last event I attended was in 2016 as a city councilor in the Salisbury VA. After listening to the parade of feel-good statements from other elected officials saying what was expected, I concluded my remarks by saying, “We are all here this Monday in the spirit of brotherhood. I hope you still feel the same on Wednesday.” While everyone folded their arms and swayed back and forth and sang the even more pointless song “We Shall Overcome Someday,” I stood motionless on the stage, colliding with those who were ignorant circling back and forth. The only question that came to mind was that we have been singing this song since 1963. So why can’t that “Someday” be now instead of wishing, hoping and praying that the hatred ends in some unknown future time and era?

I have already expressed in print my weariness with society’s tendency to divide based on irrelevant characteristics such as ethnic composition, immigration status, gender identity, pronoun choice, religious affiliation, and socioeconomic status by quoting the character’s quote from the movie “The Green Mile.” used “I’m tired, boss… Above all, I’m tired of people being ugly to each other.” I’m tired of all the pain I feel and hear in the world every day. There’s too much of it…” I’m so tired of all the verbal vitriol directed at each other that I much prefer interacting and talking to children rather than adults. Children are more sensitive, empathetic and tend to manipulate the random and irrelevant differences. Political and social cultural activists have made their living keeping this country in fear and division.

I recently saw a picture online of a little white baby resting in his mother’s arms on a bus. He lovingly extended his hand to an African male in America, who lovingly extended his hand to him. The headline read, “This child has not been taught to recognize or hate differences.” My autistic 5-year-old grandson could teach this world a valuable, similar lesson. His heart is free from any notion of hatred or division. He is full of sincere compassion and love for everyone and everything. He looks for meaning and understanding in your face. Last week, as we drove to school in my truck, he asked, “Pop-Pop, are you sad?” Are you okay?” After recently touring a new school, he was overwhelmed by the change. He had an emotional one Breakdown, but the white administrative woman who showed us around was so friendly and understanding. As we were leaving, he unexpectedly ran up to her, hugged her tightly and told her how much he loved her. There are two large ostriches living behind a wire fence within a mile of our house. My grandson called them Turkey and Bingo. He’s so worried about them that he has to stop by on the way to school to say good morning and check back after school to make sure they’re okay before he goes home. If it’s raining or other bad weather, he asks to go along to see if they’re okay in the storm.

Imagine how much better this carousel of life would be if people cared about each other the way my grandson cares about his ostrich friends.

Kenneth L. (Kenny) Hardin is a member of the National Association of Black Journalists.