Ahh, debate season is upon us. So is the season of ignorance and vitriol. My social media timelines have been bursting with blind hate, uninformed opinions and narrow-minded beliefs. It’s reminded me of how desperately we need to educate ourselves  before November 8^th. This is not a new soap box for me, but it’s an important one which is why I find myself standing on it once again. If you are someone who hates all Democrats or someone who hates all Republicans, this is not the post for you. Sadly, you are part of the problem if not THE problem, but nothing I write is going to neither register nor open your mind to anything beyond your preconceived political views, so step away. Scoot. Move along to your Huffington Post, CNN, Fox News and Drudge Report sites and don’t forget to wear those beloved blinders while you’re there. For everyone else, you may want to move along, too, but if you’d like to read a train wreck in the making, by all means, continue forth.

I am going to start by sharing one simple fact that I’d like you to keep in mind. I DO NOT like Donald Trump OR Hillary Clinton. I’ve said it before, but felt the statement needed reiteration. I’d write it louder for those in the back, but that’s really just an all-caps catastrophe in an article such as this. I say this because I don’t want what I’m about to write to be misconstrued or, worse yet, completely dismissed because you think I’m voting one way or another and I’m just preaching my political agenda to you. I’m not. Preaching that is.

Moving on … when I was 18, I was probably one of the most enthusiastic 18 year olds there could be filling out my voter registration card. Being able to vote, having a say in our government, was EVERYTHING to me. I’d comb the periodical section in the library (remember preriodicals? because there was no Google) so I’d know what was going on in the country and beyond. I’d watch the few news channels we had back in the day, though they were just as slanted and bias then as they are now. I even campaigned for a local councilman. I was a teenager, but I owned the rights I’ve been granted as a US citizen. I was also very much Republican.

Then college happened.

Rewind, if you will, to your early college days as a late teen finding your way in the world. Remember your obstinacy. Recall how you knew everything about anything and no one could sway you from that stone cold death grip you had on your beliefs, political or otherwise.   Now imagine me, same age and attitude, stepping foot onto my college campus, an art school no less, with thousands of other kids the same age with the same attitude. Now imagine me as the lone Republican (other than hot soccer Steve who was most definitely conservative during orientation, but certainly didn’t stay that way) in a sea of hormonal, rebellious and rather obtuse individuals, promoting their individuality through every nose ring, combat boot or strand of blue hair. These were kids (yes, kids, because that’s exactly what we were) that had yet to be truly jaded, but whose air was comprised of judgment and cynicism. They were artists which meant being free-spirited, progressive and challenging to “the man” that kept us down (though who “the man” was, was clearly up for debate). Most importantly to this flock of fresh-faced Goth-eyed adolescents, being an artist meant being a liberal. Even though they would have hated the label because in addition to being anti-establishment, they were also anti-label (though in trying to be as anti-label as possible, they in fact became an actual label).

Regardless, I was alone in my conservative political fervor, so I kept my mouth shut. I wasn’t going to be changing minds any time soon, just like they wouldn’t be changing mine. Oh how stupid kids can be …

Fast forward to American Government, a mandatory course that everyone had to take. Secretly I was super excited about the class. I knew I was going to have to deal with a fair share of Republican bashing, but as Ronald Reagan once said, “If we love our country, we should also love our countrymen.” So I kept my chin up and took in everything I could, including the oft baseless hate being churned out like an Iowan’s butter. At some point, the prof finally had us take the test. You know the test – the one where you find out where you fall on the liberal/conservative spectrum of life. Are you a Democrat or a Republican? Of course we already knew exactly what we were. We were kids. We knew everything.  So after answering a myriad of questions regarding our thoughts about policy, tariffs, and social programs, we turned in our sheets and waited till the next class to see in what box we’d officially be placed.

My classmates were taking bets by the next day on which of the class would be the most liberal and taking great pride in the fact it could be them. Not only was our professor going to hand us our scores which indicated where we landed on the chart, but he was also going to share the results on the overhead projector for the entire class to see.

So there it was, I was about to be outed in front of the whole class as one of the racist Bible-thumping Republican fools that shouldn’t be allowed a vote according to my zealously liberal course mates. I was fairly certain no one knew the secret I’d been hiding for the better part of nine weeks, but you have to understand, the Republican or just general conservative bashing I’d endured, and which the professor eagerly supported (totally bias man) for the majority of the class was pretty brutal, so I wasn’t exactly eager for my results to be blasted on a silver screen for my fellow students’ amusement. I was going to be the lone little dot on the far far Right while a cluster of dots would be making something akin to a large ink blob on the Left …

But of course that’s not what happened.

EVERYONE IN THE CLASS EXCEPT ME had their dots on the Right side of the chart. MY dot was smack dab in the freaking middle. And NO ONE was Left of me. I was the most liberal in a class of professed liberals. I, the Ronald Reagan loving girl from a Red State was the Left. Everyone else was the Right. Yours truly was DEAD CENTER. Put that in pot pipe and smoke it you wannabe liberal labelers. Oh how there was an uproar. The students were livid. The results were wrong, there was no way they, the progressive majority, could possibly agree with the Right on anything, let alone agree enough to be considered conservative in their political leanings. It was glorious.

Now, I can chalk their rage and lack of brain to mouth filter back then up to youthful ignorance. BECAUSE THEY WERE KIDS. We all perceive the world differently at that age and know very little of it. But I’m about to be 37 years old and I see people who should know better still labeling like a machine, casting hate and making assumptions about people with unadulterated vehemence . I see people, who in one breath, say we need to be inclusive of all races and religions and in another breath claim anyone who votes this one way is a racist or a xenophobe. For the record, I see these people on BOTH sides; no party is immune.

Why, as a society, are we like this? What happened to amiable adult discourse? I enjoy amiable adult discourse, it’s just hard to find these days as people continue to label like The Breakfast Club. Has John Hughes taught us nothing?

Is it asking too much that maybe we don’t vote off of our preconceived notions? Maybe we don’t hate people because they disagree with us? Maybe we don’t back a candidate based off of who wore it best? Or maybe we try some adulting by educating ourselves about the issues from multiple authorities instead of using clichéd sound bites and 140 character headlines as news sources to formulate our opinions… I’m just spit-balling here.

The ignorance is too much. The intolerance is too much. The HYPOCRISY is too much. Please. Don’t. Be. Part. Of. The. Problem. Look at the issues, look at the platforms, and look at the local elections because that’s really the most important part of it, my friends (for those who are still willing to be my friends after reading this ridiculously long diatribe). You don’t have to agree with someone if they have a differing point of view, it’s what makes us unique. Also, don’t hate them, either. You’re better than that. We all are. If this election doesn’t go your way, suck it up and see how else you can help change the world.

I woke up to my Twitter timeline blowing up over Brexit. If you don’t know what Brexit is, I’m sorry you don’t follow major world events that could ultimately affect your future or your children’s futures in some way, shape, form or other. There’s nothing I can really do for you if this is the case. I suppose a well-wish of Godspeed back to your bubble is about all I can offer you. Perhaps the next time you choose to emerge from beneath your Unaware Rock, something more to your liking or level of understanding will be taking place such as who won The Voice or which Bachelorette got the boot. If you are this person, this post is exactly for you, but because it will likely make you think about things beyond what’s right in front of your face, you may not want to read it.

So let’s start there, shall we? WANT – a four letter word that indicates a desire to possess or do. We want freedoms and choice and all of the amazing wonderful things independence affords us, but what we don’t always want is to own the responsibility demanded to maintain those freedoms. We don’t take the time to understand how our government works nor our role in it. We don’t appreciate the gravity of each elected official’s influence on our laws and ultimately our lives. We casually accept that every vote we place barely registers as a blip on the legislation radar when in fact it often has global reaches well beyond Capitol Hill. I think Miranda Priestly’s explanation about how the world really works should be used in all government classes.

Now let’s talk about this:

Seeing this, my stomach sort of does this thing. It reacts of its own accord, stirring and grumbling and what is that? Oh yeah, tossing bile back at me to spew upon the Earth as a visual representation of what ignorance is.   Half-digested harmful thoughts irresponsibly tossed about to the detriment of societies everywhere.  This “Leave” voter was just one of many who could have illustrated today’s reminder of people seeing only what they want to see.

Here it is – I may not know the latest conflict being had in the Middle East, but I’d like to think I have at least an average command of all the conflicts’ over arching themes. I may not get what goes on behind North Korea’s closed doors, but I do get what North Korea having nuclear missiles means. I may not comprehend all of the ins and outs of Wall Street, but I sure as shit understand how the stock exchange directly affects me. The world turns beyond our walls and the lousiest thing we can do is act like what happens in it doesn’t involve us or that we have zero influence over anything beyond that contained in our daily routines.

Brexit has been drawing parallels to the upcoming US election in November. I can see why that is. Everyone has a choice this fall, as everyone in the UK had a choice regarding that referendum. The choice is not limited to either-or in regards to Brexit OR our own forthcoming presidential election.  Abstention is also a choice (albeit not a wise one in my book). Kudos, by the way, to the UK for getting a 72% voter turnout whilst our last election saw just shy of 58%.  Our votes matter.  I think those in the UK and beyond would agree wholeheartedly with that today. Sit up and pay attention. We are all affected by the events unfolding on that little island overseas, some of which may not be seen for years, but trust me when I say it’s a whole new world we’ve entered into due to the results of that one referendum . The people spoke and now we watch as the dominos fall.

My biggest frustration over the years has been hearing people complain about politics and platforms and bills and amendments only to find out they fall into one of two camps.

1)      They didn’t vote.

2)      They only had half the facts as they walked into their polling place and cast a ballot.

Almost nothing infuriates me more than this. You don’t have to share my opinion, but for God’s sakes, own yours. Be informed before you walk to the poll. And PLEASE WALK TO THE POLL. Know your stuff before you check the ballot box. If you are fortunate enough to live in a democratic state, no matter your political leanings, it matters that you participate in your government’s decision making process. If Brexit, hanging chads, and recent House sit-ins have shown us anything, it’s that every vote counts. Your. Vote. Counts. Who you put in that office to speak on your behalf counts.

So in the wake of such a huge event like the UK leaving the EU, I would suggest Americans learn the lesson pretty damn quickly and begin preparing for this fall  – educate yourself. Understand what the candidates are really saying and what they stand for. Don’t let pre-conceived notions and hearsay make your decisions for you.  Just like those dealing with the consequences of the Brexit referendum, which truly does affect us all, there will be costs greater than we can predict when we next step inside the voting booth. I’m not just talking presidents. I’m talking senators and representatives as well. Each person you pick to represent you plays a part that ripples in a way you may never have imagined.

The UK has a lot to deal with over the coming months and years. Whether we agree with the result of yesterday’s vote or not, whether they were educated votes or not, we can all agree that a good majority stood up and had a say. We will be able to do the same this fall? Will we educate ourselves? Or will we continue to stand idly by with our heads buried in the sand? Be a citizen not a stand-in.

Rewind to a small village in Northern Indiana circa 1990 something, comprised of corn fields and soy bean farms, surrounded by factories, traversed by the Amish… and white. Very very white. Now the town next door, a whopping 30,000 strong compared to the village’s wee 1500, had more diversity, sure. Was it a melting pot? Hell no. Today, twenty odd years later, could be a different story, but to embrace the full impact of the experience I’m about to drop, one must remain in the cultural makeup of yesteryear.

High school productions were no joke. When the football season was done, in Middle America there was one thing to cling to – the Spring Musical. Every high school around the area had one. Theater and choral students everywhere anxiously anticipated the announcement of the Rogers and Hammerstein or Andrew Lloyd Webber story to be told that year through off-key ditties and awkward choreography. As they say in the South – Bless Their Hearts.

Big Sis was heavily involved in these performances so by default (meaning I was forced to attend each and every one) I like to think I became a local expert critic of sorts. She was in every musical I can remember my school produced – Oklahoma, The Sound of Music, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, Oliver!, Carousel, The Wizard of Oz … see a commonality here? Now, the kids the director had to cull from sometimes dictated his or her choices and we didn’t have a lot to cull from.  They worked with what they had and kudos to them for doing so.

Having such a tiny school, it also meant having a tiny budget. Again, the directors worked with what they had while the high school down the street was 5 times our size, with a bigger budget and a bigger population and at least a handful of kids that weren’t white. Which means they had just enough money and courage mixed with ignorance to think they could perform The Wiz.

Now, I admit, I inspected Soul Train on Saturday mornings after my cartoons. I watched The Cosby Show (though that probably doesn’t count). I knew who Redd Foxx was. I listened to Run DMC, loved Eddie Murphy Raw and enjoyed Coming To America – I caught The Wiz every time I could on BET, but the bottom line, no matter how you slice it or dice it – I am white and was raised in a pretty white society on episodes of Growing Pains and interviews with Larry Byrd. My parents raised me well, don’t get me wrong. They discussed other cultures, world politics and kept me informed about how my race wasn’t the only race. My culture wasn’t the only culture. They educated us. But in hindsight I don’t know that every kid (and adult) in that community were granted the same exposure to and understanding of the outside world, hence a director casting 40+ white kids and like 3 black teens in an attempt to pull off an erroneously ill-advised homage to Michael Jackson’s and Diana Ross’s stroll down that Yellow Brick Road.

It’s the best musical I’ve ever seen performed live in my life and I’ve been to Broadway and the West End, folks. But it wasn’t the best for the reasons you’d think. Even at 16, I knew it was wrong, but sometimes you have to watch the ship sink, the train wreck, the cars crash… you just can’t look away no matter how hard you try.

I went with my Icelandic foreign exchange friend, and probably the last person on the planet to have even an inkling of what The Wiz was supposed to be. We were tennis buddies and she attended the neighboring school that was putting on the performance. She wanted the entire “American” experience and to her that that included seeing a high school musical. So we went.

We entered the auditorium and before the lights ever dimmed, I knew in my heart this director and these theater students were about to pull off potentially the most racially insensitive thing to which I’d ever bear witness. Yes, it was the nineties, but where I grew up could be a good ten to fifteen years behind the times. Mixed race relationships, homosexuality, you name the hot button social issue and I can bet you we weren’t on the same page with the rest of the nation. Here’s the thing, though, most of these people were good people with good intentions trying to embrace new things; they were trying to break down barriers and spread the love.  I’m just trying to be clear that oftentimes good intentions are like the pathway to hell, or light the pathway, or set it on fire or something like that …

The lights dimmed and the musical commenced. It’s hard to say what made the performance so wrong (ok, not really, it’s kind of easy to say what made it so wrong) Was it the way too intense fog machine choking the audience? Was it the chicks without rhythm roller skating haphazardly around the auditorium? Was it the licentiously dressed underage Poppyseed girls dancing promiscuously making everyone watching wildly uncomfortable? OR could it just be the white kids impersonating classically black roles by exaggerating the “blackness” that embodied each character, embarrassing the human race as a whole? I think the only thing that could have trumped it would have been watching the school’s attempt at Roots.

(just imagine the white high school students using their amateur acting chops and angelic voices to attempt a scene like this)

But you know, props to them misguidedly and ineffectually trying to tear down racial walls, though inadvertently enabling and perpetuating wholly inappropriate cultural stereotypes in the process. It was probably the best damn white performance of The Wiz this country has ever seen. Possibly the only one … so there’s that.

To that high school (you know who you are) – you had balls when no one else did. Thank you for putting them out there for the world to see. I’m glad I got to see them.