This blog is about the story of my family here in America. We arrived in the 1630s as Puritans, and became the common folk of the New World.

Teaching children to hate, and its failure

Like all children, I was carefully taught to hate. My environment taught me to hate people who looked different from me, or had a different religion, or lived somewhere else, or went to a different school. And I've spent my life despairing for the future of the human race whose children are so carefully taught.

I am very sensitive to hate talk. I see seeds of hate sown in the fertile minds of children under the guise of "competitive spirit" or "pride". I see being proud of who you are twisting into hating people who aren't exactly like you.

But ultimately, I don't despair. I survived, and I am beginning to believe that a lot more people will survive this nasty form of education. Apparently mine is a brain that isn't easily washed, and I'm not the only one.

When I was a kid, expressing thoughts of peace was seen as underground. We kids would draw peace signs on our notebooks. We would flash peace signs at each other, a quiet signal that we were not going to be drawn into hate, and war. The grown-ups didn't like this, and somehow that made it even better.

I won't live to see it, but I believe in a world without hate, and war. And it takes the form of a resistance, of which I was a part as a child, and still am. And if I can do it, so can everyone else.

Peace.
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