It’s not my problem
The notion of blame shifting has been on my mind a lot recently. It just seems to easy to pretend as though the problems of this world are for someone else to fix. Homelessness is the government’s problem. The poor is The Salvation Army’s problem. The lack of teachers in the Sunday school is the pastor’s problem. The war in Iraq is the American’s problem… whatever the sector, blame shifting seems to be the trend.
So at what point do we as a society start to take ownership and do something about the injustices in our world? At what point do we accept that perhaps the blame lay on our shoulders for doing nothing when something could have been done.
A friend of mine sent me a forward from Mothers Against Drunk Driving, and it was a sweet letter written from a young girl who had been hit by a drunk driver. It spoke at length about how the girl had done the right thing by having pop instead of booze at the party while everyone else drank, and so it seemed unfair and tragic that she was the one who paid the price.
In a bizarre twist of fate, I wonder, had she spoken out against the excessive drinking at the party, she might have lived on another day. Perhaps the right thing to do was not just having a sprite, but warning her friends.
Pastor Niemoller says it like this:
“In Germany, they came first for the Communists, And I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Communist; And then they came for the trade unionists, And I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a trade unionist; And then they came for the Jews, And I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Jew; And then . . . they came for me . . . And by that time there was no one left to speak up.”
So whose fault is poverty and homelessness? Ours.
Human Trafficking: The Truth Isn’t Sexy
The Truth Isn’t Sexy [link] is a good link to put into your bookmarks and check back to frequently. In fact just this past monday I was at a luncheon with some local political leaders, one of whom commented on the site. He was impressed with the rather edgy name and commercial associated with it. I say coodos to our friends in The Salvation Army’s British Columbia’s PR.
So do yourself a favour, swing by the site today, and if you are so inclined come on back here and let us know what you think of it.
“It’s not easy being green”
By Lieutenant Alison Lublink
To quote the intelligent, and often witty, Kermit the Frog, “it’s not easy being green.” And no, I don’t mean physically green. What I’m talking about is the ever-popular notion of saving our world, and being responsible with our purchases. You know what I mean. Most of us have invested in canvas, reusable grocery shopping bags instead of plastic. In fact, there are some stores who will even give you a discount if you bring in your own bags! There’s the option for composting which has become mandatory in parts of Canada. And we have hi-energy light bulbs that waste less electricity. I could go on. Despite how “pro-green” we are these days, I still find it a bit hard to be green. For example, I needed laundry detergent, and so I headed down the aisle in Wal-Mart to find what I needed. I scanned all of the options, taking great care to see which was the cheapest, had the most washes, etc. I quickly came to the conclusion that to purchase the biodegradable laundry detergent (which I wanted) would cost me a few dollars more than if I purchased the other brands. Let’s just say that there was a battle in my mind about what to choose. Cheaper? Or greener? Begrudgingly I chose the greener option, and although I know it will be better for the environment, it’s not easy being green.
Advocacy: Let’s be honest
By Lieutenant Alison Lublink
Peter and I were sitting in a cafe in the downtown East side of Vancouver. Quite frankly, we were killing time, by surfing on the ‘net, and reading books. It was quite relaxing, and the shabby chic atmosphere was rather enjoyable. We were sipping some fancy smoothies, and downing some snacks, when a really distraught girl, dressed like someone who worked on the streets for a living, dramatically entered the cafe.
We weren’t shocked by her appearance, nor her presence, but it seemed to be disturbing to the cafe-goers around us. Apparently despite this cafe’s location, those who actually live and work in this area, are not welcome. Nevertheless, the girl was let into the bathroom (her real need for being in the cafe), and we settled back into our mindless tasks of surfing, reading, and eating.
It had probably been 5-10 minutes, but it felt like 30. I suddenly realized that the girl hadn’t surfaced from the bathroom yet. (more…)
