The American Library Association says there were almost 700 attempts to censor library materials nationwide from January to August, and more than 1,900 challenges of specific book titles.

In Saline County, Patty Hector said she was removed from her position as library director for not banning books.

She said a county judge and Quorum Court wrote a resolution advising her to pick out “harmful” books and move them so children couldn’t access them. Hector said her response led to her being fired.

“There’s no place in the library that people can’t get to. So I said no, and then that was what got me in trouble,” she said. “I said no to them. And you don’t say ‘no’ to a bunch of men. And the books they picked out are LGBTQ and race – two-thirds of them are.”

As Hector described it, a resolution accusing her of fraud “was written by the Saline County Republican Committee.” She added that after the committee reported her for “violating the Freedom of Information Act 90 times,” she had to spend many months answering questions about her job and library expenses.

Hector said the committee also put up a billboard on Interstate 30 that said “Stop X-Rated library books, SalineLibrary.com.”

She said some Arkansas lawmakers worked to pass a bill that would criminalize librarians – but that law was blocked by a federal judge this year.

“Act 372 was going to make it a felony for a librarian to give anybody a book that’s ‘obscene,’ which they couldn’t define,” she said, “and that has been determined by a judge to be unconstitutional.”

Hector noted that several books with topics on sex education and homosexuality were under scrutiny. And a book entitled “The Talk”, about conversations that Black parents have with their children, was another title the committee objected to.

This story is brought to you by the Public News Service, an independent, member-supported news organization.  

The post Banned Books, Bold Librarians: The fight for inclusive libraries in Arkansas appeared first on Arkansas Strong.

My journey with lung disease began in the Spring of 2022 as I noticed subtle changes in my heart rate, energy level, and appetite.  I also developed a wicked cough that became much worse at the end of the year.

As a self-employed Illustrator and Graphic Designer, I am accustomed to working extremely hard and hustling non-stop.  It’s typical for me to end my year exhausted and burned out.  This was different.

My doctor visits didn’t reveal any obvious culprits.  Some bloodwork indicated that I had low iron.  I was prescribed iron supplements and spent the next two months trying to function in an incredibly compromised state.  

By the end of 2022, it was obvious that I was getting much worse.

In January of 2023, I began a series of lab work that went on for weeks.  I had dozens of vials of blood taken as well as numerous chest X-rays and C/T scans.  The x-rays and scans revealed my lungs were enlarged as well as my lymph nodes.  My physician had various specialists involved and they all came to the same conclusion-they had no idea what was going on.

By February I was clearly fading fast.  My body wasn’t accepting food and even the most basic human activities required prep work and recovery.  Showering demanded I store up my energy, sit in the shower and do my best to avoid fainting. 

I’ve always been a very independent person.  Realizing I could barely rise from the toilet without help was a profound and shocking blow.  

As I saw my doctors multiple times per week they witnessed my unspooling in real time and became increasingly concerned.  On numerous occasions, they debated hospitalizing me simply to stabilize me and keep me alive.  Without a diagnosis, I wasn’t given any sort of treatment since whatever they prescribed could potentially make my condition worse.  

I’ve jokingly told people that I may not have been at death’s door, but I was certainly walking down the hallway.

The sensation of losing yourself bit by bit every day is equal parts terrifying and liberating.  Rather than feeling raw terror, as you might assume, I felt an unexpected sense of calm.  

This isn’t to suggest I wasn’t scared or unnerved but somewhere within myself, those feelings were combatted by a sense of peace and determination.  During this period, I was adrift from time and any shared reality with the world.

My daily existence was stripped down to its most primal essence.  I was focused on my wife, and my kids, doing what I could to survive and accepting my lack of control over the matter.  

Most of this time I was alone, bedridden, and isolated, with my life existing almost exclusively in my mind.  I lacked the energy to read, or verbally communicate easily.  This time was mainly spent taking inventory of my life and utilizing tools I’d developed in therapy to remain positive and grateful.

I prepared final goodbyes with family and friends, considered my obituary, and did what I could to make dealing with my unfinished business as easy as possible for my wife and kids.

At this time, I was placed on full-time oxygen which stopped my fading and provided a small amount of stabilization.  My Pulmonologist ordered a surgical biopsy to finally determine what was occurring in my lungs.  I was also ordered to have an endoscopy to diagnose my worsening cough and a colonoscopy to rule out cancer.

On Tuesday, February 28 I entered Washington Regional Medical Center to have my endoscopy and colonoscopy.  Due to my dependence on oxygen, these procedures had to be done in a hospital with anesthesia.  Despite waking up with ten minutes left in my colonoscopy (Yes!  You read that correctly!) the procedures went well.  

I entered WRMC on Thursday, March 2, and had a surgical biopsy of my lungs that was done with the DaVinci surgical robot.  Thanks to this technology my surgery was less invasive than I’d feared.  The recovery was still extremely painful and due to issues with my drain port required my staying in the hospital for 4 days.

The following weeks involved a painful recovery from surgery with a comical low point of my waking up to my drain port wound leaking like the world’s most disturbing garden statue.

Once my diagnosis was found I was immediately placed on an extremely high dose of steroids.  

Within a week I felt the effects of the steroids.  Although still severely limited I no longer felt like I was fading, but that I was coming back to life.

The lung disease I’m fighting is relatively mysterious and there aren’t obvious answers for me.  I have no idea what caused the disease, or what my long-term prognosis is.  Living with ambiguity is part of my life now.

I’m learning every week what I can and can’t do.  Although I see progress, it’s small, incremental changes and my desire to get back to normal must be controlled.   My limited state is what’s normal, for now at the very least.

Thanks to my wife I have very good health insurance.  However, even with this insurance, we face a mountain of bills and economic uncertainty.

If my treatment doesn’t go well, I may have to go to specialized clinics that deal with this specific disease.  Although I expect a year or more of recovery to see what my “new normal” is I have no idea when I’ll be able to work again or how we’re going to deal with the financial challenges ahead of us.

What I do know is that with my phenomenal wife by my side and the support of my wonderful family and community, I’ll find a way.

Being able to receive the incredible amount of love I’ve been given during this experience has changed me forever.  Outside of survival my focus going forward is sharing that love as much as I can because no one survives alone.

Chad Maupin has been an Illustrator and Graphic Designer since the Clinton Administration. To learn more about his work visit www.big-bot.com. You can also find him on social media: @bigbotdesign.

To donate toward Chad’s medical costs, visit his Go Fund Me page.

The post No One Survives Alone appeared first on Arkansas Strong.

This recent opinion piece in the Democrat-Gazette caught our attention, because it was written by an Independent voter, a teacher and mother of four boys, who describes herself as a conservative Christian. She writes that her values are driving her vote for governor. We thought it would be a good conversation piece for this community to discuss as we ponder our values and how those are reflected in our choices about who we want as elected leaders.

Please read and comment, respectfully, how you may agree, disagree, or have other thoughts to add. Here are a few questions to get us started:

1. What are my 3 most important values and how do they influence my voting choices?
2. If I could design the “perfect” candidate to lead Arkansas what would they be like?
3. What are the 3 biggest needs facing my family and community right now and how will my chosen candidates help?
4. What 3 things would I like to see happen to make Arkansas a better place to live?

Written by Laura Marsh and published in the Arkansas Democrat Gazette

I am a public school teacher in a virtual charter school where I teach civics. Kudos to the state of Arkansas, which requires students to take a civics class and the Arkansas Civics Exam for graduation.

I am convinced that students leave my class more educated about civics than the average U.S. citizen! I try to instill in my students pride in our nation, Constitution, and being an American. Even though our system is not perfect, it has been molded and shaped through the years by compromise, hallmarks of a democracy.

As a professional with a college degree, a master’s degree, and years of experience, I take great offense in Sarah Sanders’ attack on Arkansas teachers, insinuating that when she becomes governor, Arkansas teachers will “educate kids, not indoctrinate them.”

To truly look at civics, we must walk through the history of how our Constitution was written and how our nation has progressed through the years; we tackle issues such as the three-fifths compromise and how compromise was so important to our fragile nation that founding fathers actually wrote into the Constitution that they would not address the issue of the slave trade until the year of 1808; and we examine the expansion of the voting franchise. And of course, we examine the very real civil rights struggle, which still exists today.

Under Sanders, this is indoctrination. Arkansas social studies teachers call these topics American history. Of course, there are events in our past we wish had been different. Regardless, it is part of our story of being Americans.

Conservatives that Sarah has aligned herself with support legislation from the conservative think tank ALEC that creates legislation for states to enact to limit the teaching of facts in public schools. Model laws include allowing any American to sue a teacher for up to $10,000 for teaching certain historical facts that are deemed to be CRT (critical race theory). In Arkansas we don’t teach CRT: We teach facts, and we teach kids to think, not to react in fear to the latest news report. I don’t know many teachers who are willing to stick around and teach whitewashed history or face civil penalties for simply following state standards.

Sarah has also asserted that teachers are failing to educate our students. In addition to our curriculum, I provide individualized instruction to each student, differentiating for a variety of environmental and social needs, and implementing special program modifications as required by state law. I progress-monitor, differentiate, scaffold, and modify every week for my students. I am in class or meetings most of the day; in the evenings, I spend about two hours answering emails, grading papers, writing curriculum, filing reports reaching out to struggling students, all the while documenting my work throughout the week. Teaching the basics is so much more than the three Rs. If Sarah had spent any time talking to teachers in public schools, she would know this.

My husband constantly tells me I work too hard and too long for not enough pay and that no one cares. While all of this is pretty darn time-consuming for teachers, it is so good for kids. I make slightly more than the starting salary for a starting correctional officer in Arkansas and less than a part-time legislator. All over the state, Arkansas teachers pour themselves out for others. It is simply who we are.

With Sarah as governor, there is no intention of raising public school teachers’ salaries or elevating the profession’s status. State legislatures will extend tax credits to parents to use at either private schools or homeschool, which do not have to teach state standards, prepare kids for standardized tests, or accept or provide accommodations for kids with special needs. Additionally, Sarah is proposing to cut taxes in Arkansas by over 50 percent, causing public schools to struggle.

This is the goal: At a recent CPAC convention, conservatives declared that in the next few years they hope to take at least a third of kids out of public schools. Arkansans who value their Friday night lights will see a decrease in funding, students, and staff. Sarah will hurt the people she claims to help, rural Arkansans, who find their strength in rural communities and local schools.

I am voting for Chris Jones. He listens to Arkansas teachers, supports the elevation of the profession financially, and has concrete policy proposals to improve education for all students and teachers in Arkansas.

Mr. Jones, Arkansas teachers look forward to working with you over the next four years to serve all of Arkansas’ children. You are the obvious choice for governor.

The post Voting our Values: a Conversation Piece appeared first on Arkansas Strong.

• Our government only survives with an informed electorate.

We have to be informed citizens.  We have to pay attention to current events, political activity, issues, candidates.  We have to be discerning in our news intake.  We have to recognize propaganda.   We have to constantly think, “Who is telling us this information, and what do they want us to think/do/feel?”  We have to engage our brains.  We have to also remember that it’s not always about ME but about US, and we need to think from not only our perspective but from others’ perspectives.  

• Government is a SOCIAL CONTRACT, not a BUSINESS.

Government is not meant to make a profit.  It is not meant to squirrel away money.  It’s not meant to squander it, either.  Government officials MUST think of ALL their citizens, not only their party.  They must allocate tax revenue to use for the best of their society, not for the most privileged or the most powerful.  Creating a surplus from federal funds meant to improve lives of all citizens during a pandemic and then handing it to the richest of its citizens isn’t good governance, as an example.  It doesn’t benefit the majority or the most in need.  We have to think collectively.  We have to think of each other, not just those who benefit us financially or politically.  We must remember that the opposite of governance is anarchy.  

• Our elected officials must EARN our VOTE.  They must be ACCOUNTABLE to ALL our citizens, not just their party.

We have the responsibility to vote in officials who will work to benefit all our citizens, not just hold a spot for the majority of the party.  Celebrity does not equate to good candidacy.  Just because you recognize the candidate does not qualify him/her as a deserving candidate.  We must listen to his/her words, actions, history.  We need to elect citizens who actually live among us, live in our state, interact with our citizens.  We must elect officials who are concerned with the issues of the majority of our citizens, not just the most powerful and the wealthiest, the lobbyists with the most influence.  We must pay attention to the words and actions of candidates, not just the designated letter behind their names.  Who will represent us the best?  Who has spent the most time among the citizens of the state?  Who seems the most engaged with issues which impact our daily lives?  Whose ads seem the most genuine, positive, issue-oriented?  Campaigning for education which impacts all our students and then advocating vouchers which benefits 8% of the students in the state isn’t best representing the citizens of one’s district.  Not living in the state in which you’re campaigning and holding no public appearances or town hall meetings in the years of your term does not best benefit your constituents.  It benefits you.  Not showing up for a sponsored debate in the state is lazy.  It’s entitled.  It doesn’t speak well for us, the voters, who let a candidate get by with such action.  We should demand accountability.  We should demand a platform.  We should demand and pay attention to debate.  We as informed voters need to pay attention to the words and actions of our elected officials.  We need to vote for the people who best represent all of us.  

• We Are A Democracy.

It’s been said on some media that we are a constitutional republic as a rebuke when someone states that we are a democracy.  These two terms are not mutually exclusive.  A constitutional republic, which we are, is a TYPE of DEMOCRACY, which we also are.  A democratic government relies on its citizens to dictate policy through elections.  We must be an informed electorate.  We must recognize these terms and the fact that we are being manipulated by people trying to divide us with misinformation according to these terms.  Reference the first bullet.

• One of the tenets of our democracy is egalitarianism:  One person, one vote.

In order for our government to function effectively, we must vote.  We must allow every citizen to vote.  We must make it easy to vote.  We must not limit voting.  Everyone’s vote must count and count equally.  Manipulating the vote is un-American; laws which limit voting in minority areas are un-American.  The current Arkansas proposal #2 limiting the access to citizens’ initiatives on the ballot is essentially un-American.   In voting for it, we are ceding our power as voting citizens.

• Another tenet of our democracy is Majority Rule.

The opinions of the majority should dictate the law.  Gerrymandering congressional districts to limit minority votes is un-American.  Using the filibuster to limit the proposal of laws that the majority of the country wants enacted is un-American.  Holding open judicial seats until one’s party can control appointments is un-American.  The Hastert Rule in Congress of not proposing laws unless the majority of the majority will vote for them led to not proposing law unless the President will sign it.  Both ideas go against the American ideal that each branch of government is equal and independent, and that the Founders created a system of checks and balances in our government so that no one branch gained an undo amount of power over another.  Ballot initiative #1, which would give the state legislature the ability to call themselves into session, goes against this tenet and is essentially un-American.  We need to vote for leaders who are concerned with the majority of the citizenry, not leaders who have tried to manipulate the system to gain power.  

No democracy can exist without an informed electorate, said Thomas Jefferson.  The less we understand about our government, the more power we cede to those intent on steering us away from a democracy.  We have a job to do.  Use your power to vote accordingly.  

The post <strong>It’s Your Job!</strong> appeared first on Arkansas Strong.

It’s no small feat to come up with a genuinely new insult, I’ll grant you. Most of them are tired and overused. So I have to tip my hat to whoever conjured this one. A “sheep,” they say, refers to a person who does not think for him or herself, but believes whatever information is being churned out by the mainstream media. Someone who follows mindlessly. 

I have been raising sheep just shy of five years, but even after so short a time I can say with total certainty that we have vastly misrepresented their kind. So when they call me “sheep,” I don’t clutch my pearls. I think: well, thank you, I try.

A sheep knows how to take care of her own. Her flockmates are her responsibility, just as she is theirs. A sheep cannot subdivide her freedom from that of the group; if the group is not free to live safely, neither is she. Of course. In terms of ovine common sense, this is as glaringly obvious as it gets. Life for her would not only be meaningless alone, it would be impossible. Divided up to enjoy their freedoms independently of one another, sheep become the easiest prey on four legs. That’s the way they get by; they mind one another. They pay careful attention to threats. They use their brains and their senses and they respond appropriately. Sometimes that response turns out to be overkill, but they will always err on the side of caution to keep the flock safe. A long-range view to freedom, if you will, which understands that at times it must collectively contract in order to later expand. I’ve heard it said that a flock is not just made up of individual organisms, it is itself a kind of living organism. And organisms adapt, adjust, change. Stagnation is relegation. 

Contrary to popular belief, sheep do not believe everything you tell them. My husband and I are the ones our flock knows the best; we bred most of them and care for them daily, but they still view our every action with scathing suspicion. Is that pen I am leading them into really just a pen? Or could it be a pit of writhing, mutton-hungry snakes? If they are remotely convinced of the latter, they will utterly refuse to enter it—much to my frequent consternation. There are days when no amount of prodding or wheedling or trickery can convince them to do what I’m asking of them, and I just have to give up. Whoever said that sheep would run off a cliff without a thought has clearly spent precious little time around sheep.

I’ll wear it as a badge of honor to be called “sheep” because a sheep knows that there is something greater at stake than her own druthers. The well being of her kith and kin depends on her ability to zoom out from that. A sheep works off a different definition of freedom that is far more collective in nature—one that may well be a truer interpretation of the idea and a sound corrective for us all in times like these.

The post A Shepherd’s Response to Being Called A Sheep appeared first on Arkansas Strong.

Most of my Facebook friends avoid politics, while others post their views in moderation. However, some of my Facebook friends could be described (and might describe themselves) as Far Left or Far Right. Their posts often demonize those on the other side of the political divide. For example, one left-leaning Facebook friend posted that the Republican Party champions racism, rape, and greed. Similarly, one right-leaning Facebook friend posted a meme that equates the Democratic Party to the Nazis in the 1930s. Some extremists might merit those descriptions, but most conservatives and liberals do not devour babies for breakfast.

Yet too often, social media’s political demonization spills over into real life. You hear it in the partisan rhetoric of many politicians, and you witness it in Washington gridlock. But sadly, you can also see it in the day-to-day lives of Arkansans, either at home, in the church, at work, or elsewhere. I confess I have been a culprit. One day a colleague and I got into an intense political discussion (some would call it a plain old argument), and before I knew it, I was yelling at him. He (understandably) left.

What’s the antidote? Give up our opinions on social and political issues? No. But instead of demonizing someone for their politics, we can humanize them for their personhood.   

After all, whether we are Right, Left, or Middle-of-the-Road, we share common values. The late science fiction writer Harlan Ellison once said we all want to love and be loved. Sounds simple, but it’s basic Humanity 101. Many Arkansans have spouses and children. Almost all of us have relatives either by blood or relationship, and most of us have friends and work colleagues as well. We all shoulder hopes and fears, joys and sorrows, dreams and nightmares. And most of us want to treat others decently and in turn be treated decently ourselves. In essence, we are all humans breathing the same air, regardless of our political leanings.

But how to apply humanization to Facebook and other social media? Exhibit A—before one posts the current popular anti-conservative or anti-liberal meme, one can Google it to see if it’s true. If one plans to “like” a political post, one can do the same thing. After all, Googling only takes a few minutes. And memes intended to demonize the opposition needn’t be posted or “liked” at all. If in doubt, we can ask ourselves this question—is this meme constructive, or insulting and arrogant?  Name calling is never warranted. Further, regarding those with whom we politically disagree, we can “like” their non-political posts, especially posts concerning family, friends, and accomplishments.

But how does this humanization work if a political discussion ignites in real life, maybe in the workplace or over dinner? What if it’s an issue about which you feel passionately? Should you just keep your mouth shut?  Yes—with a caveat. You should listen and try to apprehend what the other person is saying. In fact, even if you’re not a Christian, the New Testament gives this sage bit of advice: “Each of you should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry.”

We all shoulder hopes and fears, joys and sorrows, dreams and nightmares…In essence, we are all humans breathing the same air, regardless of our political leanings.
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But what if you blow it? You’ll recall that earlier I mentioned I had yelled at a colleague during a political argument. Clearly, I had been in the wrong, so later that day, I apologized to him. Since then, I have endeavored to try to listen to and understand his political viewpoints without interrupting him. I don’t always succeed (hey, do the Razorbacks always win?), but it’s a worthwhile goal. Also, sometimes we may simply need to agree to disagree.

Will this process resolve all political conflicts with significant (and even insignificant) folks in our lives? As Star Trek’s Mr. Spock might have said, “Highly unlikely, captain.” The flight path of life and relationships is too erratic to be course corrected with a well-meaning principle. Still, perhaps the latter can move us closer to our chosen trajectory.

Demonizing leads to hostility, suspicion, and paranoia. But humanizing leads to calmness, reason, and trust. The decision is ours. If we choose the former, we may become a toxin poisoning our own wells. But if we choose the latter, we may become an elixir fortifying our communities.

Who knows—we may find out we don’t live next door to a devil after all.

The post The Devil Next Door: The Politics of Facebook appeared first on Arkansas Strong.

I have never been to Burma but my parents were originally from Burma. We are Karen.

Karen is the third largest ethnic group population in Myanmar. Many Karen have migrated to Thailand, settling mostly in the border of Myanmar and Thailand due to the conflict caused by the Burmese military. The conflict has been described as one of the world’s longest running civil war and the Karen nationalist have been fighting for an independent state known as Kawthoolei more than 70 years since 1949 and counting. Most of the Karen people lost their homes, families, and lives.

The Burmese army try to kill Karen people and want to erase our culture because they don’t like us. To them we are their enemy and every time when they catch our Karen people, they rip our clothing and kill us. Burmese soldiers want more territory. They want the Karen village of Kawthoolei and use violence and genocide against Karen men, women, and children to get it. If furious Burmese soldiers see our clothes, they take them all away. When they come through our villages, they rip the clothing off the lines and torch them. They disrespect our culture. The Burmese army general Shwe Maung said “In twenty years, you will only be able to find Karen people in museum.” They also tell other countries that Karen land does not exist because they fight us and take it away, since my grandpa was born.

Because of this conflict, my family was forced to flee to Thailand, where I was born in a refugee camp. My parents tried their hardest to put food on the table while living in Thailand, despite the fact that it was still difficult. My parents have low-wage occupations.

The difference between living in Burma and Thailand is that we have to go hungry and fear the Burmese military in Burma. But in Thailand, we never go hungry, and we never have to worry about the Burmese military pursuing us.

In Thailand, it is necessary to pay to attend school. As a result of our modest income, my parents made the decision to relocate to the United States in 2014 in order to offer a solid education for their children, as well as a healthy life choices. My parents moved to the United States as part of a special migrant worker program. They could come and sacrifice themselves for their children, so that we will grow up with wonderful knowledge instead of growing up in the jungle without education.

My future plan is to make my parents proud. I want to accomplish my goals. I will allow myself to chase my dream that I believe in. Someday, when I get old, I want to be a wise person with knowledge. I will help my Karen people that are left in my country.

Even after all we have been through, the Karen dream of having their own independent state is still flourishing. I am just a young girl but I decided I could fight back against those who want to destroy us—by preserving out traditional clothing. Even though we do not have our own country, our culture is a very crucial part of us. Culture gives us identity and helps us grow our character. Personally, our traditional clothes have a huge impact on our people and the culture as it represents who we are as a nation.

There are different types of Karen traditional clothes in many categories, such as the black Karen traditional shirt with sarong for a married woman. White Karen traditional dresses are for women who are not married. For the men, they wear a Karen traditional shirt with longyi. Karen traditional clothes are kept as a treasure because they are delightfully handmade with very good quality. The skills that Karen people have are unique. Wearing the clothing makes me feel comfortable and good. It makes me look pretty and proud of my culture. I am who I am, and I don’t have to fit in. I embrace my culture it reminds me where I came from. Karen clothing is part of Karen culture because our ancestors represent our culture and where we are from. The traditional clothing is very special gift that has passed in from our ancestors. So, we maintain these attractive clothes and pass them on another generations that lies ahead of us. As long as we do this, Karen culture survives on Earth, in defiance of our murderers.

Karen are so few; we are not very well known, nor are our traditional clothes. Women wove more Karen clothes to pass to a new generation, so it can be known permanently. We celebrate the Karen new year by wearing Karen traditional clothes. Everyone who went to Karen new year wore Karen culture clothes.

So we maintain these attractive clothes and pass them on another generations that lies ahead of us. As long as we do this, Karen culture survives on Earth, in defiance of our murderers.
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I learned that these clothes are what make me stand out; they’re what my parents always wear. My great-great grandmother always wears Karen clothes everyday. There is not a day that goes by where she isn’t wearing it. So, a way to fight back is to keep wearing Karen shirt, never stop wearing it everywhere for Karen holidays. A way to say “we are still here” is to speak up about what happen in Kawthoolei. My friends and I shared our traditional clothes with our friends of different races and teachers in Arkansas at our American school. They are unknown clothes but are the most beautiful traditional clothes, because it describes where we came from. My parents told me that wherever I go, do not forget where I came from.

The post We Are Still Here appeared first on Arkansas Strong.

That was almost 15 years ago.  Social media has gotten all-pervasive and more insidious in many ways.  At the same time, we seem to have become more indiscriminate about our informational intake.  These two lessons should still apply:  Who’s sending you this information?  and What is their intent?  I think a lesson that needs to be stressed far more to our elementary students is the difference between Fact and Opinion.  Many adults can’t distinguish between the two.  A class that needs to be taught in high school much more pervasively is journalism.  Most people who today don’t trust the “mainstream media” don’t realize that journalists can’t print anything that hasn’t been confirmed by at least two independent sources.  Watch a good news movie like All the President’s Men, and you’ll see news reporters tracking down great leads to get people to tell them things on- or off-record or on background.  They must have corroborating material like contemporaneous notes, newsreels, correspondence, diaries and calendars, film.  Their writing generally contains footnotes with contributing sources. 

The internet is not an edited source of information.  It is not copyrighted; it has no fact-checkers; it doesn’t rely on sources or data.  Wikipedia is not an encyclopedia.  It can be edited by anyone, with truthful, fanciful, or vindictive material, depending on the source of the writing and the intent of the writer.  All of the current disinformation about the supposed lack of safety of the Covid vaccine and the touting of wonder drugs like ivermectin (a cattle wormer) or hydroxychloroquine come from only 12 different people.  These 12 people’s intent is not to relay reliable information but rather to get their readers/listeners to buy their products.  They are making millions off their disinformation.  Cognitive dissonance is causing members of our society to believe the unbelievable because it fits into their perceived belief system.  When I was young, I would look at the headlines from the National Enquirer – things like “Alien Lands in Cemetery” and “Baby Cow with Three Heads Born on Farm”—and think, “How can anyone actually believe that?”  Even I, born in Pine Bush, NY, the “UFO Capitol of the World,” didn’t buy that.  Yet today, our friends and neighbors are buying into child-eating microchip-injecting one-world-order overlords trying to brainwash us all.

We need to get back to being more critical consumers of information.  We need to judge whatever bombards us by the two go-to questions of  Who’s telling me this? (We can add Are they reputable?) and What are they trying to make me think or do?  A democracy only survives with an informed citizenry.  In order to be informed, we need an adversarial press.   Let’s all use our news filter a little more wisely.

The post Harry Potter & Journalism appeared first on Arkansas Strong.

I’ve always believed this. Plus, I love geography. Perhaps that’s why, whenever I’m around rocks at one of my parents’ quarries or find myself stacking stones beside a river, my eyes are drawn to the ones shaped like Arkansas. My sister-in-law looks for the ones shaped like hearts. So between ourselves and our kids we end up with a lot of these treasures. I like to stick them around in my flower beds.

I have a little stack of different sized Arkansas rocks right by my door. When my nine-year-old presented me with a tiny gravel heart she found in the driveway, I decided to give her a little geography lesson. I took down my best Arkansas rock and placed the heart in Franklin County. “This is home, where we live.” Being the child of an English teacher, the symbolism was not lost on her. “It’s where our heart is, Mommy!”

Home. Where our heart is.

The other night there was a storm and it rained. Early the next morning I sat on my steps as I always do, trying to put on my running shoes with about five dogs jumping around vying with each other to lick my face. I glanced over at our little heart of Arkansas creation and noticed, to my dismay, that the heart had washed/blown off. Only Arkansas was left, stark grey against the sepia background. It took a minute for me to spot the heart. Upside down and cast aside, it didn’t really look like a heart. It just looked like a rock. I picked it up and set it back on top of Arkansas, this time more centered so that maybe it would have a better chance to hold.

I’ve been obsessed with unity lately, although I guess it’s always been an important theme in my life. My friend list has never been homogenous. I tend to favor more of a hodge-podge of people. In high school this looked like playing in the band as well as being a cheerleader; heading up the library club along with being president of my class. I was the nerd elected “Most Likely to Succeed” who also won the beauty pageant. While on the surface those things may seem like contradictions, to me they made sense. Why pigeon hole oneself into a single category? Walt Whitman said he contained multitudes. Don’t we all?

Running for office in 2020 afforded me many learning experiences; some lovely and some brutal. It may be that having no previous political aspirations shielded me somewhat from the reality of our partisan divide. Whatever it was, I never expected people to be so polarized at the local level. Washington–yes, I get it. We all see that madness and mayhem on TV. But not here; not in Arkansas; not in our little country communities where we go to work, and church, and ballgames together. Not where your kids are my kids, we give each other wedding showers, we visit one another when someone is sick. Heck, we even share our okra and tomatoes!

One of the first things I did as a candidate was contact every county political committee regardless of party and ask them to let me speak. I told them party was not a big deal to me, that I wanted to represent everyone. When I talked to John Brummett about this he said something like, “I don’t know whether to think that’s weird or wonderful.” I told him then what I’m telling everyone else now: it’s not an either/or situation. It’s the choice of the people what kind of culture we allow.

Some news stations, some churches, and a great many politicians owned by special interest groups would have us believe it is a civil war. We must be Democrat or Republican. Left or right. Vaccinated or anti-vaccine; good or evil. It is Us versus Them; there is no possible in-between. No co-mingling of the tribes. It’s a fight to the death.

And yet–is this really the truth? Have we the people decided to hold these truths as self-evident? Is this the way to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness? If I believed that I would have given up on Arkansas after being defeated.

But I am not giving up. This is my home. Hear me from the rooftop shouting through my Ozark Hillbilly golf team fundraiser mask: No. It is not the truth. It is not the way to life, liberty, or happiness. It is not who we are as Arkansans and Americans. And church people, it is not even Christian. It is not Us versus Them. No, it is not.

I don’t know all of the answers and so I try to approach others in humility, but I believe in bold, clear action. And the action that is needed for such a time as this moment in our state and nation is reconciliation. Determined, intelligent, deliberate, difficult, messy reconciliation. It is not touchy feely. It’s not excusing, or saying everything is okay, or that we even agree. It is doing the hard work of restoring a relationship that is broken because whether we agree on everything or not we recognize we need each other; we are in this together. There is middle ground whether we acknowledge it or not.

Let us be the ones who decide to be different from the crowd. Let us be the movers and shakers–the leaders–who show the rest of America how it’s done.
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But let’s be people who seek it. Who recognize that place is sacred. It’s where we heal. I’m so thankful for those who are working to build bridges in our communities. Those fighting forward, registering voters, keeping watch, informing us, showing us the way back to each other, back to the common good. We need more leaders who will rise up to put people over politics and reunite us–not just in words but in deeds.

It can start here in Arkansas. Let us be the ones who decide to be different from the crowd. Let us be the movers and shakers–the leaders–who show the rest of America how it’s done. Let us reject the narrative that it has to be either/or. Arkansans are known for our independent spirit. Let us be weird and different from the whole world if that’s what it takes to also be wonderful. We can find the courage in our hearts to lock arms and stand together. Some might say I’m naive, but I know we can do it. Let this be the place where reconciliation begins!

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I don’t really remember ever not knowing Robby. He was a couple years ahead of me in school, and in a place like Ozark that means you know each other; have a strong likelihood of crossing paths most days when school is in session. We also went to church together for a time at First Baptist. His family owned a local pharmacy and his dad, Bob, was everyone’s favorite guy. He worked long hours, seemed always to be there when you needed him. He ran Medi-Quik with a gentle spirit, keen mind, and kind heart. When I grew up and had babies, Bob told me my prescription vitamins were free at Wal-mart so I should get them there. I wept with the family when Bob unexpectedly died. Robby made his dad and all of us proud by stepping up and into his shoes as Medi-Quik’s new owner. He’s carried on Bob’s tradition of devoted, compassionate care.

I do remember not knowing Kelli personally. I always knew who she was, since her dad was my dentist. He had pictures of her and her sister Kim displayed proudly all over his office. Kim is the same age as my younger brother and they were friends. Even though Kelli is six years younger than me she was on my radar as a teen because she dated my best friend’s brother, who was also my brother’s best friend, Mark, now her husband. We all moved back home after college and graduate school and started hanging out and Kelli and I got close. Until recently, when she started working in the ER, Kelli was our family doctor, overseeing the collective health of most of the community. She is still known to take my calls in the dead of night or most recently when she was on vacation and I hated to bother her but was concerned about my mom, who turned out to have a kidney stone. And so it goes in the beautiful thing that is small town Arkansas.

Kelli with her dad Jim

Robby with his dad Bob

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We are giving away our most valuable resource: trust in each other.
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I’m politically homeless, an Independent who ran for office as a conservative Democrat; Kelli leans Libertarian, and Robby has been a strong supporter of former president Trump. We are all Christians who love our families, community, state, and America. Over the years conversations with both of them have stretched and challenged me. Kept me balanced, like friends do. I think they’d say the same of me and my freethinking ways. Underlying any political ideas we have is something far more important: trust in one another. We all have a commitment to the well-being of our people. A sense we all nurture—that we are in this together, and that anything that threatens to divide us is dangerous. HPRD. Hillbilly pride runs deep. We know that even if we sometimes disagree on little stuff, we are strongest when we stand together.

 

Robby worked countless hours getting shots into the arms of our people… It was as if he was obsessed, trying to save as many people as possible before the virus could get to them

 

In November I was devastated by “friends” who told me they could not vote for me—even though they said they knew and loved me—because I ran as a Democrat. It has taken months of work forgiving, healing, extending and receiving grace, and the sheer discipline of acceptance to begin to move on. This past month I’ve felt angsty about all of that again. But as the Delta variant of Covid consumes Arkansas, and some of those same people assert their rights not to be vaccinated or wear masks, it’s not for myself that I’m so disappointed. It’s for my friends who have given their lives to the health and well-being of people in our community, and the apparent lack of respect such a sacrifice commands.

Kelli today

Back in February, Robby was interviewed by the Democrat Gazette because of his contribution to Franklin County’s early high vaccination rate. Along with my friends Johnny and Janelle Larsen, CA Kuykendall, Lacey Hewitt, and Kim Gibbons (Kelli’s sister), Robby worked countless hours getting shots into the arms of our people. I knew of trips he made to other parts of the state to pick up unused vaccines, and house calls he made to elderly shut-ins out in the country. It was as if he was obsessed, trying to save as many people as possible before the virus could get to them. Friends in other counties would tell me about their parents being on waiting lists because their pharmacies didn’t provide the vaccine as fast as here. Hillbilly pride ran deep as I saw my parents and anyone else who wanted the vaccine served as expediently as possible. Our pharmacists did it right, and our county became a model for others to follow.

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We know that even if we sometimes disagree on little stuff, we are strongest when we stand together.
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Likewise, I watched Dr. Kelli nearly lose her own health stretching resources, desperately trying to care for our sick people. One of Ozark High School’s few National Merit Finalists and one of the most gifted people ever to graduate from medical school, she chose to join her beloved mentor Dr. Wilson, and do her life’s work here—among us rural folks—keeping us healthy. Just yesterday she posted this plea on Facebook: 

In my 17 years working as a physician I have never seen anything like this. Patients from Arkansas are being transferred as far away as Denver CO because that is the closest available hospital bed. This is insane guys. It doesn’t just affect Covid patients. It’s ALL patients. ERs are bursting at the seams. We are doing our very best to keep people alive. Please be kind to your friends in healthcare. We are so very tired. Please do everything in your power to protect yourself. Get a vaccine. Wear a mask. Avoid crowds… This is just not sustainable.

People Robby, Kelli, and I all love believe misinformation about the vaccine and refuse to get it, even spreading conspiracy theories themselves. I can accept someone not following my medical advice. I’m no medical expert. But consider the logic of those who otherwise put their health into the hands of our local doctors and pharmacists: treatment for cancer, depression, diabetes, major and minor infections, flu, even physical examinations for our children in sports. When we need help we turn to Kelli, and then we go to Robby for the medicine she prescribes. He lets us call him after hours, orders special things we need, tirelessly explains how things work, makes home deliveries. And yet. When these and other home town health care professionals beg us to take the Covid vaccine—to save our lives and the lives of others—some of us choose an article we read on the internet, a stranger on youtube, or even a family member or spiritual advisor with no expertise, over those who have proven themselves to us. Over doctors, pharmacists, nurses, and others who have earned our trust through years of study, living here among us, working hard, and dedicating their lives to serve us.

Robby today

I can understand being independent. I can understand being stubborn. I can understand thinking for ourselves, trusting God, and putting little to no confidence in government. I am and do all of those things. But what I cannot understand, and never will, is the pervasive disrespect for people who have done the work to earn our respect; the blatant distrust of those who deserve our trust because they have proven themselves to be trustworthy. I have worried about the division in our country before. But this—this severing of the ties that bind us in our small communities—that’s something deeper. Something worse. We are selling ourselves out; casting our pearls before swine; trading our greatest strength for weakness. The saddest part is that no one takes it from us. We are giving away our own most valuable resource: trust in each other. For this, for all of us, I grieve.

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