History Through the Eyes of the Victors

This morning my husband's radio went off so then he could get ready for work. The lawn mower was going past our window of our apartment, so it took us a few minutes to become aware of the two men on my husband's talk radio channel. I was aroused just enough to hear something about history and my dreamy mind thought of my high school history classes. I loved my high school and the teachers there. English, history, and art were my favorite classes by leaps and bounds. 

But as my sleepy mind worked through groggy memories the thought of "we never get past World War II" came into my head. And it was true. From the time I remember really learning about history in the fourth grade when we learned in depth about Utah history and how we Mormon's came to settle here (which is well and good for a fourth grader) to my last few days in my AP history classes, we could never get past WWII. I know of the Korean war because of M*A*S*H* and the Vietnam War because of Operation Dumbo Drop (both awesome shows that everyone should watch) I have never learned anything about Nixon or Reagan or even the presidency of JFK except for the hearsay of "Watergate, blah blah, blah," "Actor, blah blah blah," "Assassination and brother's death, blah blah blah." Unless we did some random Wikipedia searching or students actually went to their public library, we learned nothing of the Cold War or the African revolts. Honestly, I still have no idea what the first Gulf War was about. I don't know what made Reagan such a great president, except for I think that he was the one who told Putin to "tear down this wall". I don't know anything about any of the other Presidents that we have had in my parent's lifetime, who's actions as President, as well as those in the cabinets, are a reason why we have problems today. (Recent Presidencies and policies are not out of that reasoning as well.)

If I, who is a history buff, don't know these things, what about those who hate history classes and think it's boring? Is that do to the fact that we learned the same history lessons every time we had a new history class? We learned of the Pilgrims (maybe), Battle of Concord and Lexington, Battle of Bunker Hill, the Alamo (big maybe), a gold rush and brief movements of peoples across country, Gettysburg and every single move they made while at that farm (Chamberlain was awesome, but we spent more days discussing it than the actual battle), Archduke Franz Ferdinand being the match that started WWI, the battles of Western front of WWII (but nothing of the Pacific Theater except for Hiroshima and Iwo Jima). Then when we reach the Paris Peace Conference and maybe a little into the Cold War (no later than 1950 though, we don't want to push it) is when finals would hit and we would miss the last fifty years our history. Every single year. 

We are forced to take these history classes and maybe memorize the Presidents of the U.S., but we learn nothing new. We block our U.S. History classes into the years 1775-ish to 1950. Even into college, when our required courses says we have to take History of the U.S. again! (for the tenth time) we never got past that point. We spend so much time being fed lecture after lecture with baby
spoons and don't touch potentially hot topics that are more recent. We kept slavery to plantations. I don't ever recall talking about Martin Luther King, Jr. in any of my history classes (now this may be vastly different in other parts of the country where the is a much higher African American population; Utah's is very small in that regard so it doesn't get touched often). The only mention of hippies or the War on Drugs is from my parents who lived during that time. 

Why couldn't we get past the Battle of the Bulge?

I understand that politics are hard to teach and keep the high school students, who are already sleeping, attentive and receptive. I know I hated my Government and Citizenship class my Senior year of high school. I didn't like it because we were learning the branches of government again, something we learned almost every year in all of our history classes. The other topics our teacher chose were the same one's we would have in our next class period (U.S. history). She did have us get news articles that we were to discuss in class, but no one really knew what was going on or why it was happening.  No one knew the background to the circumstances of which we were living. And what high school student is going to look dumb by asking?

The teachers, is seems, are forced to still teach to the test. For AP classes, that's all it was. Know Voltaire to Nietzsche to Marx and to have us come to our own conclusions about the text. He gave us histories and maps and didn't focus on every single battle of the French Revolution. We had a lot of context to cover, but we saw how the world moved. I came to finally understand why Spain isn't the powerhouse it once was and how England came to be so.
these pieces of art, know this person, know the reasons for this battle 300 years ago in France. Why do we need to know it? It's on the test. While I learned a lot from my AP European History teacher (because we weren't taught these things in any other class), he was still teaching to the test. Though, he taught us as if we were college students. He gave us primary sources to read from

That AP Euro class has become one of my favorites. However, I wish we would have talked about Eastern Europe. In college, I took a Europe: 19 Century class. My professor had an emphasis in her degree on the French Revolution. She wanted to spend a lot of time there. We spent three weeks guillotines and bloody messes.. We only have three and a half months on everything in Europe during the 1800's. I was sorely disappointed in that class. There were so many Eastern European countries who barely got fifteen minutes in the entire three and a half months. Those countries and their histories were the reason I took the class and the questions I did have she didn't have answers for and didn't direct me to a proper source. She also spent more time with us, the students, teaching the class when we had no idea what we were doing. 

I ended up learning more about Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia (the little countries between Poland and Russia) by reading Between Shades of Grey by Ruta Sepetys, who got most of her research from her family who was there, than any of my history classes taught. In class, we never talked about the Soviets taking over countries and what they did to the people. These people froze up in Siberia and were carted around in railway cars like the Germans did the Jews. Maybe it was mentioned that x-million people died in Russia by their own government, but we never learned why or how.

It was only through my Chinese History class in college that I learned about the Rape of Nanking what the Japanese did during WWII to the Chinese. How it was a holocaust in three weeks. Up to 300,000 unarmed civilians were brutally killed and/or raped. We never learned about that in high school, in any of the world history classes. 

And what is truly horrible is when governments to hide their own faults and wrongdoings, accidents or otherwise, they seal documents and keep other stories from being heard. I was reading an article online about the Cap Arcona  a ocean liner that was turned into a prisoner's ship during WWII. It is extremely sad what happened, but no one will fess up to the destruction of the ship or the thousands of concentration camp prisoners who died. A judgement can't be filed because the documents have been sealed until 2045 when all who would have been prosecuted for it are long past dead. All those people who died, and those who survived and lost loved ones, still don't have justice. 

**********

You get the point. I could seriously go on pages of the things that I had to find out myself outside of the curriculum. I do it, because I enjoy reading. I do it, because I enjoy the characters/real people who were there, whose stories are being silenced and need to be told. 

I try to do family history. I'm not very good at it and my dedication is slacking, but I try. All of those people, all of your ancestors, had their own stories. Whether it is about a little farmer from Illinois fifty years ago,or a mother in Nanking during WWII or the chambermaid of Charlemagne in the 700's or even one of the Pharaoh's servants who saw Moses and lost a child. 

We can learn a lot from history. We need to learn it otherwise "we are doomed to repeat it," as the saying goes. We will repeat it if we are unaware of what is going on presently. Our history classes are good(-ish) at giving us our history from the far distant past. There is a lot to learn. 

What our history classes have forgotten, or what they are told not to tell us because it's not on the AP test, is the modern history. The things that have happened recently that influence us now can keep us from repetition. Documents are being kept from us, the people of old and now. We don't get the full truth because the people who are supposed to represent us are keeping things from us. Even in National Treasure 2, there is a Book of Secrets that only Presidents can read. Look back at Nixon; look back at Benghazi, look at the potential candidates for the Presidency in 2016. There are so many secrets, hidden things, and lies that flutter around in the media shadow, so then we will vote or act a certain way.  

If we don't learn our modern history from those who actually understand having been there or have done the research, as we just as gullible and illiterate as the peasants during the dark ages. If we don't know what's going on (especially us millennials who haven't understood the past presidencies and haven't been taught the last fifty or sixty years) we will be taken advantage of by people who know and run the system. 

Our history books have been written by the victors over us. 

Tear down the false media. Find the primary sources and make your own conclusions, not just reading the commentaries of others opinions. 

Take initiative. 

Learn another language and read the older texts. 

Make sure the younger generations knows cursive; if they don't, they can't read those older documents unless they have someone else translate/alter them. 

Read the Declaration of Independence and Bill of Rights. 

Find other opinions that aren't like your own. Learn why they have it. The reason will enlighten you even if you don't change your own opinion. Discussion, not argument, is vital. 

For the modern history, talk. Discuss with neighbors and family and older friends. Find out what they did during the 60's and 70's besides discoing with bellbottomed pants. They have vast amounts of knowledge to offer if you could just talk and tap into it. 

We need to do something to change the way the system is being run. The best way to do that is to become informed and act, not with hostility and anger, but with dedication and understanding and kindness. Intelligence, courage, and kindness will go a long way if we want change, which we desperately need.




Thank you Wikipedia.org and Google Search: History Books for pictures. 

Unexpected Underdog: Ted Talk

I enjoy many different TedTalks. Do to the influence of my husband I've come to enjoy stories of the Bible and other Scripture as well. I've found it extremely interesting to find the little joys of the gospel stories that you can only get if you look closely enough at them. You can find many different and surprising gems inside the stories if you really study them. 

David and Goliath is a story that many people, even non-Christians know. The David has been reproduced many times by artists over the years. My favorite "David" is a sculpture by Gianlorenzo Bernini in 1623-4.  I love this sculpture because it is so very different from the other David's that were produced after the Renaissance. Many of them have no movement; they stand nonchalantly, not like they are about to go kill someone or die. Many of Bernini's other sculptures are like this. To see his works in St. Peter's Cathedral in Vatican City would be a trip of a lifetime. 

But our figures in the Bible story are looked at differently in Malcolm Galdwell's TedTalk "The Unheard Story of David and Goliath." Galdwell describes gives us much appreciated  background of the terrain and peoples who are fighting and he sets up the story for us. But he flips our renowned "underdog" story into what could have probably happened. 

Lets look at Goliath first. Goliath, Galdwell argues, is probably much like the beloved "Princess Bride" character Andre the Giant. Goliath and Andre most likely suffered from the same illness that was the cause of Andre's death. This was known as acromegaly--a disorder that's caused by the abundance of growth hormones in the body. There are many complications with acromegaly and many of the people who have it die fairly young. Galdwell explains that Goliath's size seen as his greatest strength was actually his greatest weakness. This hormone disorder can cause severe nearsightedness and double vision, as two of the many repercussions. So David would only have to stand a dozen yards away with his sling in order take Goliath out. 

Speaking of our Master Slinger, David was an artilleryman. Galdwell mentions, though doesn't reference any which I really wish he would have, moments in ancient warfare that slingers were the deciding factor in battles. These men would be amazingly accurate; Galdwell says that they could shoot birds out of the sky in flight which is amazing. David was a shepherd. He would have had to fight off "lions and wolves" to keep his flock safe. He was in the army probably as an artilleryman. Also Galdwell points out that the rocks in the valley they were in were twice as dense as most stones around and they could sling these rocks very quickly. So, an accurate shot to the head with a heavy rock that could be shot out of a sling almost as fast as a bullet would indeed kill anyone let alone a gigantic target like Goliath. 

This "underdog" story here has almost been flipped on it's head. The little guy took down the big guy. But then again the story is still the same, just a different take. All big, scary, problems that we are supposed to face, our Goliath's, can be faced if we are prepared like David was with his well trained arm. Before my understanding of the story was that it was a lucky shot, God helped the rock to fly straight and with enough force to slay this giant, but that isn't the whole truth. God gave David time to prepare for his battles with his Goliath just like he does for us. 

We can overcome anything! 

The Unheard Story of David and Goliath 

https://www.ted.com/talks/malcolm_gladwell_the_unheard_story_of_david_and_goliath?language=en

The Power of Introverts

I love Susan Cain's voice. Her TedTalk is one that I listen to often, one: because I would consider myself an introvert, and two: because of her voice. Her way of putting things that I hadn't thought of in realistic and very understanding ways.

Since I started college, I've tried to be more outgoing. In this I've succeeded. I've gained a few good friends by trying to introduce myself at the beginning of classes and it helps a lot now that I'm in my upper division classes and many of my peers are in the same classes I am. But there are many times when I want nothing more that to sit down in a comfy chair with a cup of cocoa and read about far off places. I want to go on an adventure all by myself and maybe at some point talk to a friend (or write on my blog to you unknown people who I appreciate) about the characters and world.

There are so many outgoing people who I know and love very deeply. They do things in ways that I wouldn't have thought of or wouldn't have the guts to do. Speaking in public is causes me the worst butterflies especially on subjects that I have little to no knowledge about. I know many extroverts who can work through things very quickly on subjects they know little about and they can work sound like they know everything. I like to have time to process my thoughts and explore them on my own before I let anyone else have a jab at them.

I hold my thoughts as dear and precious things. Not all of them need to be shared with everyone.

Although, there are sometimes when the extroverts or the louder people step over my words. My own ideas get looked over because my voice isn't as loud as others. There are many times when I have to be flamboyant and almost abrasive to let my voice be heard. Those who are near and dear to me know how much I dislike having my words being stomped on and they are kind in trying to quiet their voices a little or ask me questions so then I can speak.

It was worse when I was younger because I didn't know that it was okay to speak up. I would raise my hand, like I would do in a classroom if I ever spoke up, amongst my own group of friends for them to realize I had something to say.  Sadly, though, there are others who haven't gotten the memo and still step all over me. Whether or not it is getting better is hard to tell.

Susan Cain refers to the idea that I know I had and have that being an introvert is a bad thing. This is false. The wonderful thing about her TedTalk is that she says it is"to sound grandiose, the world's loss" because we need introverts to "do what they do best." We need them to be thoughtful and creative and that little bit of hesitancy so then we don't rush into things without thinking them through thoroughly.

She delves into the differences between introverts and extroverts and how they are stimulated by different things. This is perfectly okay. Find out where you are stimulated the most. Is it in a library where it is quiet and not many people in your ears? Is it in the kitchen with bustling kids? Is it out on the streets?

She also calls out teachers and the institutions where children are taught to realize that 1/3 to 1/2 of their students are introverts and may not learn the best not in group activities but in doing their own work. Realize how different the students are. (I think the best way for this to occur is to have smaller class sizes--though I know that is a difficult topic to some.) Don't simply believe that the "ideal student is an extrovert." That would cut out 1/3 to 1/2 of the students in the classroom.

We introverts need to realize that this is good to be introverts. That it is important that we share our views and share our creative spirits. We don't have to pretend to be extroverts but find a way to let yourself be heard.

I believe that Susan Cain's TedTalk to be very intriguing and worth the watch. She also has a book, that I have yet to read--though I want to, called Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can't Stop Talking. I am very interested to read this.

But please watch her TedTalk. I enjoy her thoughts immensely.

The Best Friend You Can Ever Have

Friends are something that everyone wants. Whether it is a single friend that you can rely on wholeheartedly or to be the social giant who is constantly surrounded by people, people, people. We seek for friends in our communities who have the same interests that we do. Nerds and geeks seek for nerdy and geeky people. Fans of fandom's are sometimes desperate for other fans. The boys and girls who crave popularity find charismatic ways to become liked by the majority of the people around them. I am not different, but I've found that I've had a hard time making and keeping friends.

I am twenty-three and am on the verge of graduating college. I can strike up conversions with people whom I hardly know in my classes. But they are often times more like acquaintances. We may embrace our inner nerd-ness and let our geek show, which I'm very much okay with doing, but then the long hand on the clock reaches the top of the hour and we all go our separate ways. At the end of the semester, there will be many that I will never see again.

Some of my friends, whom I love dearly and have meant the world to me, sometimes seem to cast me aside. I've found that I've become a friend of convenience to many of those whom I hold dear. I'll only be talked to if I'm the only one around or if they have something they need from me. This can be very disheartening, especially when I need someone to turn to, someone to vent to, someone to lean on. I sometimes feel like a ballerina trying to practice in the empty, mirrored room without a bar to hold one to. Or on occasions it's there, but then suddenly it will vanish. I stumble and fall headfirst into the mirror and smash it. It falls like glitter though it crunches like glass.

Do I always have to start the conversation first? It appears so. Then I only get one word answers. Seconds later, silence.

Recently though, I've come to hug onto my sister more, something  I feel I haven't been able to do in a very long time. We sit in the halls at the university and just talk. Simple little chats and in-depth conversations. She has a very sweet heart and I hope she finds the best guy in the world to be her companion for eternity. She deserves him--the right him. (So, dude, watch out. I'm watchin' you.)

I've also been clinging onto a scripture. Well, a set of scriptures that has brought me immense comfort. It is D&C 93:45. (If you want context, go to the link provided.) But this verse says "Verily, I say unto my servant [insert your name here though originally it says Joseph Smith, Jun.], or in other words, I will call you friends, for you are my friends, and ye shall have an inheritance with me--"

"For you are my friend..." One of the amazing things about this is the word you. Instead of using "thee" like he had previously, he says "you." You may miss the significance of this if you don't know the true difference between "thee" and "you." I've been told that the English of the King James Bible, prominently translated from Greek by William Tyndale in the 16th Century, is the language of scripture. This is why the Book of Mormon and the revelation of the Doctrine and Covenants is written the way it is, with the "thees" and "thous" and why it doesn't get translated into a more Modern English. The difference between "you" and "thee" is how formal or intimate are you will the person you are talking to? "You" is actually the more intimate term. Over the years it has been almost flip-flopped (crazy how languages change right?)

So when Jesus the Christ "I will call you my friends, because you are my friends..." He's not saying, "Lets be Facebook friends and never talk to one another again." He's saying, "You are my best friend. I will see you every day and I can truly understand your struggles. You can turn to me for anything and I will always be standing next to you."

Jesus Christ is the closest friend you can have. Because of His Atonement (this word didn't exist in the English language until William Tyndale, fyi), He can understand what we have gone through. He suffered "pains and afflictions and temptations of every kin; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people. And he will take upon him death, that he may loose the bands of death which bind his people; and he will take upon hi their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may not know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities" (Alma 7:11-12). I know this to be true. My husband knows a lot about me, but not even he knows as much as Jesus Christ, my Savior and Redeemer. 

Why am I saying this when it started out as a rant on how it often seems I'm friendless? 

I'm never friendless. 

One: I have Jesus Christ on my side and He will never let me down. 
Two: I have the best husband in the world. 
Three: It's sweet when I have to pull away for school and I see my son crying at the window because he doesn't want me to go. (It really warms my heart though I'm making him cry.)
Four: Families are Forever. 
Five: I actually have a few friends who do care, though sometimes they forget it themselves. If I do call on a select few, they will always be there for me. 

These things, though sometimes I forget myself, are the most important. And we all need to remember them, not just me. 

Remember, especially in this Holiday Season to take time and thank your friends and love your family. Not only because you have to, but because you want to and get to. They truly are worth the world. 

Wonder Woman?

I'm a full time mother and a full time college student. My best friend, who is now a mother of two beautiful twin babies, called me Wonder Woman, after I had my son and went back full time at school so I could finish. Yes, I do have a very energetic two year old which makes doing any kind of homework much more difficult, but I wouldn't say "Wonder Woman."

There are many other women who have more kids than I do with much more difficult circumstances than I do. Many divorced or otherwise single mom's are going back to school. A classmate of mine was talking with me just this evening about her three kids, ranging from eleven to three years old, who is planning to graduate when I do. She isn't just doing it with kids, but she's doing it without a husband. I'm twenty-three years old and, while she's not ancient and needing a walker to get around, she's older than I am by at least fifteen years.

If anything, she, and all the women like her who are forced by circumstance to go back to school and take and pay for hundreds of credit hours, are the real Wonder Women.

Often times I complain about this teacher or that assignment. I may have dyslexia, which makes reading assignments as an English Major that much more difficult. We are given (no joke) fifteen novel length books alongside a plethora of short stories and essays that we are asked to read for one single class. I don't even read some of the material because I know I won't be able to finish the entire novel and my other classes assignments at the same time. Right now, if I were to get a good grade in this particular literature class, my history and writing classes would tank. I've had many moments where I have to weigh the many against the one--and this class, with an awful teacher, is the one that gets left behind.

Is it Wonder Woman to prioritize and manage my time? Is it Wonder Woman to suddenly realize that while I've been doing homework my son has watched three movies in a row and it's suddenly almost nap time and no one has eaten lunch? Is it Wonder Woman to freak out and feel like my brain is about to explode because so many words have suddenly been jam-packed into it like an overloaded suitcase?  Not one more sock, not one more word, will fit in this suitcase no matter how hard I try at times. It makes my head ache being on the verge of explosion as I hit ten o'clock at night and crawl into bed because I can't take consciousness anymore.

There is no way, I could do this--being a mom of a two year old, do school whether it was full time or not--on my own. If I was on my own I would also have to have some type of job as well. I don't think I could honestly do it. Any two of the three, yes. But I couldn't do all of them on my own. Even with my supportive husband I can only do two.

If it weren't for my husband and the support that he is--he wants me to finish school and become an author and be the mother I want to be--I couldn't do it. I am weak like that. Having him near makes me strong.

So am I Wonder Woman?

No. That title goes to other women who go through more than I do and succeed.

I am a Partner. Partner in my marriage. When I am at class, my loving husband watches our son. When I'm at home doing homework he is at work or does "ground control" to keep our son occupied so I'm not disturbed--too much. And when I graduate in December, then my husband can fully occupy himself with his schooling and his career. My husband has given me my time to gain the knowledge I wish to acquire, then I can do the same for him. All the while, having our beautiful family.

I don't need to be Wonder Woman, because I have a wonderful husband who tells me that I don't have to go through this alone.

A Mother's Worry

It's more than just a little terrifying to have a sick child. Even though my two-year-old isn't sick with cancer or leukemia or the measles that has been running rampant or anything drastic. But the fact that he is miserable is always concerning to a mom.

My son is normally very happy, extremely cheerful, and bright like his sunny, blond hair. His eyes are blue and has fingers small. He loves to give hugs and high fives and knuckles.  When he isn't sick, he's running around as if he had a tail that had been caught on fire. He also has a very wild and crazy arm, so when he throws things more often they come flying at your face or behind him.

He is a sweetheart and the definition of a ball of energy.

When he is mildly sick, if his nose didn't run, I wouldn't even know. If it weren't for his cough that was so raspy you could hear the fleum moving in his body as the air rushed through it, I wouldn't know he was unwell. He is two and doesn't know to tell me. He doesn't realize that the red medicine that tastes rancid is there to make him feel better. Instead, he only knows that the little, plastic box full of water that puffs out a silly kind of smoke has a light on it. He calls the green light "red" then pulls his Pooh Bear blanket over his shoulder and falls asleep.

He doesn't know that the reason we can't go outside to play with the neighbor boy his age is because his cough makes me squirm. He doesn't understand that he's contagious at least for a while. Instead, he only knows that he gets to watch movies we've already seen a hundred times and I have to chase him down to wipe his nose.

It's scary, though, when he suddenly slows down. It's frightening when his light eyes, so full of wonder and joy, suddenly are half closed. When he climbs into my arms with his blankie and wants nothing more to be held. I relish those moments, looking back on when he was so little. When he would fall asleep peacefully in my arms wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. When I could see the trace puffs of his dark baby hair turning blond. He would rest in my arms, my baby. My two-year-old baby who wants nothing more than to be safe and held, to feel better and be close to "Mom." I secretly enjoy those moments, because I know that as soon as he is feeling a little bit better, he'll be running away, playing with his cars or screaming to go outside.

Those little moments. Those longing moments. Those scary moments. All in one.

He may not be sick with an incurable disease. My son will be better in the morning. Right now, he isn't even sick enough to want to sit down in my arms and be held. And slowly, I realize that tomorrow, he'll be one day older. One day closer to going off to school. One day closer to finding the girl of his dreams and having kids of his own. One day closer to leaving my house to find one of his own. One day closer to him being taller than me, so then I have to look up to him to get my hugs that he so freely gives now. I will be happy for him and the family he will make. Then when he has a son of his own, I can hold that baby in the cocoon of blankets. That boy can fall asleep in my arms as well as his mothers. I can bask in the joy of another life, another child to love. Another child to hug.

But for now, I have a two-year-old, sleeping quietly next to a vapor box that sends out little puffs of steam. A boy who is crazy and rambunctious. A boy who is so happy to see me when I come home from school. A boy whose eyes light up when I turn the corner or enter a room. A son who will love me forever. A man who will, hopefully, give those hugs so willingly when I have to look up at him.

My son forever.

Common Courtesy Isn't So Common

Before we were in grade school, we learned to wait our turn. We would stand in lines with our mothers waiting for the drinking fountain or for the long, red, twisty slide at the park. We were always told "Wait your turn." "Let the other girl go. She was here first." 

In Elementary school, if we let someone cut in front or behind you when you were on your way to the lunch line, you would get yelled at by the rest of the classmates that were behind you. You would probably get death glares for the rest of the day. In high school, you might get punched out for the very same act. 

So why is it okay to do it when your older? 

At the bank, waiting patiently for the cars in front of me at the drive through to finish their transaction, we are asked to wait a certain, designated distance back for pedestrians to cross without being accidently hit while they pass from the building to the covered parking. There is a fire line, a strip of pavement that is supposed to be clear just incase catastrophe strikes and people need to get out, sits vacant next to the area where we are supposed to wait. 

A car pulls out of the stall where he was being helped and exits onto the street. I'm about to move my silver-blue SUV forward when another white SUV revs behind me, around me and into the fire lane, through the pedestrian crossing--which luckily was empty of anyone thinking they would safely cross in the designated space--and into the pull-through teller's station. All before I have the ability to move at all. Didn't the black haired lady realize how dangerous and rude that was? 

Now, she already did something rather reckless and stupid, but then she takes forever at the teller's station. I was forced to move behind her and wait and wait and wait for her to finish, while everyone else in the other lanes moved and left before she was even half way done. I had no chance to back my car up and because another car had pulled in behind me. I was stuck behind this slow and rude person. 

I am slightly irritated that I had to wait a while longer but the recklessness that the woman had to the possible pedestrians that might have been crossing. She had no way to tell if a mother and her three kids were coming out of the bank. My SUV and a thick, black wall obscured her view of the door or walkway. She could have pulverized a pregnant lady or a newly wedded couple who had just opened their first account together. Thankfully, the way was empty, but it could have just as easily not have been. 

What kind of example was she setting for the two kids she had in her back seat? 

People, be aware of your surroundings and the others that are part of your community. 

Make common courtesy a common thing again. It is sorely missing in the world we live in.