excerpt from FAMILYTREE DNA (history unearthed daily)
Present day theory suggests that Humans evolved from Africa and traces of these ancient genes are found in all modern day people.
75,000 years ago, humans migrated from Africa into the Middle East, later spreading into Europe and Asia.
Humans migrated to the European coast roughly around 50,000 years ago. This region endured hardships on population size during the last ice age. However, it was followed by a recovery period. Later, growth in agriculture, lead many habitants to move north cultivating new areas of this region.
Roughly 50 millinniums ago, boats were used in the migration patterns towards Australia. It is believed that one of the paths were along the southern coastline of Asia. Asians originated from two communal pedigrees, which in the modern era shows a dominance of similar lineage groups in particular regions of Asia.
20,000-30,000 years ago, migrants journeyed from Siberia across the Bering land that adjoined North America and Asia. Later, roughly 15,000 years ago, a new migration path was being carved out of the coastline. Apaches, Athabascans, and Navajos are uniquely different in the genetic leaneage of Native Americans and are believed to have migrated from the northern parts of Siberia, roughly a millenium ago. Eskimos and Aluets are the youngest of the Indians - they journeyed about 6000 years ago.
The first inhabitants of the Americas came from Siberia spreading through the Andes to Tierra del Fuego. some of these nomads migrated towards the east setling in the terrain, which is now Brazil.
Note from me: We are all one human family, with cousins all over the planet.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
LETTER FROM JAPAN
A letter from Sendai
3/14/2011
Things here in Sendai have been rather surreal. But I am very blessed to
have wonderful friends who are helping me a lot. Since my shack is even more
worthy of that name, I am now staying at a friend's home. We share supplies
like water, food and a kerosene heater. We sleep lined up in one room, eat
by candlelight, share stories. It is warm, friendly, and beautiful.
During the day we help each other clean up the mess in our homes. People sit
in their cars, looking at news on their navigation screens, or line up to
get drinking water when a source is open. If someone has water running in
their home, they put out a sign so people can come to fill up their jugs and
buckets.
It's utterly amazingly that where I am there has been no looting, no pushing
in lines. People leave their front door open, as it is safer when an
earthquake strikes. People keep saying, "Oh, this is how it used to be in
the old days when everyone helped one another."
Quakes keep coming. Last night they struck about every 15 minutes. Sirens
are constant and helicopters pass overhead often.
We got water for a few hours in our homes last night, and now it is for half
a day. Electricity came on this afternoon. Gas has not yet come on. But all
of this is by area. Some people have these things, others do not. No one has
washed for several days. We feel grubby, but there are so much more
important concerns than that for us now. I love this peeling away of
non-essentials. Living fully on the level of instinct, of intuition, of
caring, of what is needed for survival, not just of me, but of the entire
group.
There are strange parallel universes happening. Houses a mess in some
places, yet then a house with futons or laundry out drying in the sun.
People lining up for water and food, and yet a few people out walking their
dogs. All happening at the same time.
Other unexpected touches of beauty are first, the silence at night. No cars.
No one out on the streets. And the heavens at night are scattered with
stars. I usually can see about two, but now the whole sky is filled. The
mountains are Sendai are solid and with the crisp air we can see them
silhouetted against the sky magnificently.
And the Japanese themselves are so wonderful. I come back to my shack to
check on it each day, now to send this e-mail since the electricity is on,
and I find food and water left in my entranceway. I have no idea from whom,
but it is there. Old men in green hats go from door to door checking to see
if everyone is OK. People talk to complete strangers asking if they need
help. I see no signs of fear. Resignation, yes, but fear or panic, no.
They tell us we can expect aftershocks, and even other major quakes, for
another month or more. And we are getting constant tremors, rolls, shaking,
rumbling. I am blessed in that I live in a part of Sendai that is a bit
elevated, a bit more solid than other parts. So, so far this area is better
off than others. Last night my friend's husband came in from the country,
bringing food and water. Blessed again.
Somehow at this time I realize from direct experience that there is indeed
an enormous Cosmic evolutionary step that is occurring all over the world
right at this moment. And somehow as I experience the events happening now
in Japan, I can feel my heart opening very wide. My brother asked me if I
felt so small because of all that is happening. I don't. Rather, I feel as
part of something happening that much larger than myself. This wave of
birthing (worldwide) is hard, and yet magnificent.
Thank you again for your care and Love of me.
3/14/2011
Things here in Sendai have been rather surreal. But I am very blessed to
have wonderful friends who are helping me a lot. Since my shack is even more
worthy of that name, I am now staying at a friend's home. We share supplies
like water, food and a kerosene heater. We sleep lined up in one room, eat
by candlelight, share stories. It is warm, friendly, and beautiful.
During the day we help each other clean up the mess in our homes. People sit
in their cars, looking at news on their navigation screens, or line up to
get drinking water when a source is open. If someone has water running in
their home, they put out a sign so people can come to fill up their jugs and
buckets.
It's utterly amazingly that where I am there has been no looting, no pushing
in lines. People leave their front door open, as it is safer when an
earthquake strikes. People keep saying, "Oh, this is how it used to be in
the old days when everyone helped one another."
Quakes keep coming. Last night they struck about every 15 minutes. Sirens
are constant and helicopters pass overhead often.
We got water for a few hours in our homes last night, and now it is for half
a day. Electricity came on this afternoon. Gas has not yet come on. But all
of this is by area. Some people have these things, others do not. No one has
washed for several days. We feel grubby, but there are so much more
important concerns than that for us now. I love this peeling away of
non-essentials. Living fully on the level of instinct, of intuition, of
caring, of what is needed for survival, not just of me, but of the entire
group.
There are strange parallel universes happening. Houses a mess in some
places, yet then a house with futons or laundry out drying in the sun.
People lining up for water and food, and yet a few people out walking their
dogs. All happening at the same time.
Other unexpected touches of beauty are first, the silence at night. No cars.
No one out on the streets. And the heavens at night are scattered with
stars. I usually can see about two, but now the whole sky is filled. The
mountains are Sendai are solid and with the crisp air we can see them
silhouetted against the sky magnificently.
And the Japanese themselves are so wonderful. I come back to my shack to
check on it each day, now to send this e-mail since the electricity is on,
and I find food and water left in my entranceway. I have no idea from whom,
but it is there. Old men in green hats go from door to door checking to see
if everyone is OK. People talk to complete strangers asking if they need
help. I see no signs of fear. Resignation, yes, but fear or panic, no.
They tell us we can expect aftershocks, and even other major quakes, for
another month or more. And we are getting constant tremors, rolls, shaking,
rumbling. I am blessed in that I live in a part of Sendai that is a bit
elevated, a bit more solid than other parts. So, so far this area is better
off than others. Last night my friend's husband came in from the country,
bringing food and water. Blessed again.
Somehow at this time I realize from direct experience that there is indeed
an enormous Cosmic evolutionary step that is occurring all over the world
right at this moment. And somehow as I experience the events happening now
in Japan, I can feel my heart opening very wide. My brother asked me if I
felt so small because of all that is happening. I don't. Rather, I feel as
part of something happening that much larger than myself. This wave of
birthing (worldwide) is hard, and yet magnificent.
Thank you again for your care and Love of me.
Friday, March 18, 2011
EMMA MOORE-ELIMINATION OF PREJUDICE WORKSHOP
excerpt from COLORS OF MY WORLD (see Aug 31, 2010)
In the early 80s I found a kindred soul, a retired, older African American school teacher, who felt the need to heal, reveal, and kneel to make a difference. We spent a weekend retreat consulting, sharing our stories and organizing our workshop. We collaborated and co-facilitated an Elimination of Prejudice Workshop in 1983 at theBaha'i Summer School in North Carolina.
We had a musical presentation before each session, which set the tone of energy and commitment. The beginning session started with an anonymous survey of the demographics of the attendants. This survey became the starting point of getting to know each other. Stories were told, specific erroneous informaton we had been exposed to in childhood were shared, inspirational quotes were studied, historical and anthropological facts were expounded then a dialogue began which involved everyone. It was intense, emotional and effective. Awarenesses were heightened, hearts were touched, feelings of anger and pain were shared. Some whites came away with bafflement and "what was the big deal" changing to "MyGod, I'm beginning to get a glimpse." Some dark-skinned were able to share anger without retaliation, pain without excuses in response and left with a little more hope and trust.
In the early 80s I found a kindred soul, a retired, older African American school teacher, who felt the need to heal, reveal, and kneel to make a difference. We spent a weekend retreat consulting, sharing our stories and organizing our workshop. We collaborated and co-facilitated an Elimination of Prejudice Workshop in 1983 at theBaha'i Summer School in North Carolina.
We had a musical presentation before each session, which set the tone of energy and commitment. The beginning session started with an anonymous survey of the demographics of the attendants. This survey became the starting point of getting to know each other. Stories were told, specific erroneous informaton we had been exposed to in childhood were shared, inspirational quotes were studied, historical and anthropological facts were expounded then a dialogue began which involved everyone. It was intense, emotional and effective. Awarenesses were heightened, hearts were touched, feelings of anger and pain were shared. Some whites came away with bafflement and "what was the big deal" changing to "MyGod, I'm beginning to get a glimpse." Some dark-skinned were able to share anger without retaliation, pain without excuses in response and left with a little more hope and trust.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
HISTORICAL CHEROKEE
excerpts from HISTORICAL CHEROKEE, NORTH CAROLINA, Visitors Guide & Directory
Long before Columbus discovered the "New World" or Spanish explorer Hernando de Soto first set foot in the Great Smoky Mountains (1540), 25,000 Cherokee ruled over 135,000 square miles covering parts of what are now eight states.
Their vast territorial holdings have long since disappeared, but today, an agressive initiative to revitalize the Cherokee language, culture and heritage is being kept alive through the efforts of Tribal Government.
Unique among the many tribes inhabiting North America, the Cherokee have a written language created by Sequoyah in the 1820s.
By 1827, a Cherokee newspaper, "The Phoenix" was being circulated throughout the territory.
Not long ago, Cherokee students were not permitted to speak their native language in schools, but today, not only is it a required subject, but it's not uncommon for young and old to converse in Cherokee. The language, almost lost just a generation ago, is now a part of mainstream Cherokee society again.
Unlike the Plains Indians depicted in Western movies, the Cherokee lived in log cabins, wore turbans and adopted European clothes.
Of all the injustices done to Native Americans, none equals the cruelty and betrayal culminating in the tragic "Trail of Tears", when the Cherokee Nation was forcefully driven out of the mountains and marched 1,200 miles to Oklahoma.
Those who survived the journey to Oklahoma are known as the Cherokee Nation. Descendants of those who hid in the Great Smoky Mountains to avoid removal are known as the Eastern Band of the Cherokee Indians.
Today, there are nearly 12,000 members of the Eastern Band and many live in the Yellowhill, Birdtown, Painttown, Snowbird, Big cove and Wolftown communities on the Qualla Boundary - the Cherokee Indian Reservation.
Many books have been written about the history and culture of the Cherokee, but the best way to find out more is to visit all the cultural attractions on the Reservation.
I lived on the Reservation from 2004 until 2007. I hope to move back there this summer. Wish me luck!
Long before Columbus discovered the "New World" or Spanish explorer Hernando de Soto first set foot in the Great Smoky Mountains (1540), 25,000 Cherokee ruled over 135,000 square miles covering parts of what are now eight states.
Their vast territorial holdings have long since disappeared, but today, an agressive initiative to revitalize the Cherokee language, culture and heritage is being kept alive through the efforts of Tribal Government.
Unique among the many tribes inhabiting North America, the Cherokee have a written language created by Sequoyah in the 1820s.
By 1827, a Cherokee newspaper, "The Phoenix" was being circulated throughout the territory.
Not long ago, Cherokee students were not permitted to speak their native language in schools, but today, not only is it a required subject, but it's not uncommon for young and old to converse in Cherokee. The language, almost lost just a generation ago, is now a part of mainstream Cherokee society again.
Unlike the Plains Indians depicted in Western movies, the Cherokee lived in log cabins, wore turbans and adopted European clothes.
Of all the injustices done to Native Americans, none equals the cruelty and betrayal culminating in the tragic "Trail of Tears", when the Cherokee Nation was forcefully driven out of the mountains and marched 1,200 miles to Oklahoma.
Those who survived the journey to Oklahoma are known as the Cherokee Nation. Descendants of those who hid in the Great Smoky Mountains to avoid removal are known as the Eastern Band of the Cherokee Indians.
Today, there are nearly 12,000 members of the Eastern Band and many live in the Yellowhill, Birdtown, Painttown, Snowbird, Big cove and Wolftown communities on the Qualla Boundary - the Cherokee Indian Reservation.
Many books have been written about the history and culture of the Cherokee, but the best way to find out more is to visit all the cultural attractions on the Reservation.
I lived on the Reservation from 2004 until 2007. I hope to move back there this summer. Wish me luck!
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
JOHN - BLACK PANTHER, KKK, AND BAHA'I
Excerpt from COLORS OF MY WORLD (see Aug 31,2010)
1970
Moving to Henderson, NC, after coming back from Trinidad was an attempt to assist a growing number of youth who had become Baha'is and there was only one adult. The intriguing part of this move was that all these new Baha'i youth and the adult were African American. My son and I were the only whites. Our arrival was too spontaneous to have secured housing so we stayed in the back of a one room building, which had been rented as a center for the Baha'i youth activities. We camped out on the floor and I began a search for a job and a place to live. Both came quickly. The job was in the office of a garment factory. It was pretty boring but easy to do. One advantage was the easy access to materials to make clothes. Since I was taller than average I pretty much made all my clothes, and employees were allowed to get large remnants from the factory floor to take home. The disadvantage of this place was my allergy to the sizing used in preparing clothes for packaging and selling. My eyes watered and crusted and my skin itched but it put food on the table and a roof over our heads.
One powerful story of that time was about a young man, fifteen years old, who lived in poverty with his mother and worked to keep food on their table while going to school. John had been involved with the Black Panther movement (radically aggressive protesters of rights violations) and was very bitter and strident. When he heard of the Baha'i Faith he fell in love with the teachings of oneness and peace. He studied alone and very intensely, as much as he could, the teachings and became a beautiful example of transformation. He and I were sitting in the small rented center talking one day and noticed out the window that a telephone lineman had put his extension basket, which lifted him high, at the window of the center to watch us. I don't know why unless he thought we were up to something. So John and I went outside and sat on the steps to talk just to kill any rumor of impropriety.
On a teaching trip to South Carolina the local Baha'is rented an American Legion Hut for our gathering to have prayers and plan activities. We didn't know at the time that the building was owned by the KKK and they didn't know who we were and what we stood for. When they found out they came into the building at the back with very angry remarks and the first person they approached was John. We didn't know what his reaction would be but it was beautiful. After hearing their rude and insulting remarks he just smiled and said,
"But I can love you". The Klan member who was shouting at him stopped, stared, then broke down and cried. Before the evening was over he had become a Baha'i and was asking us to go with him and tell his family about our beliefs.
1970
Moving to Henderson, NC, after coming back from Trinidad was an attempt to assist a growing number of youth who had become Baha'is and there was only one adult. The intriguing part of this move was that all these new Baha'i youth and the adult were African American. My son and I were the only whites. Our arrival was too spontaneous to have secured housing so we stayed in the back of a one room building, which had been rented as a center for the Baha'i youth activities. We camped out on the floor and I began a search for a job and a place to live. Both came quickly. The job was in the office of a garment factory. It was pretty boring but easy to do. One advantage was the easy access to materials to make clothes. Since I was taller than average I pretty much made all my clothes, and employees were allowed to get large remnants from the factory floor to take home. The disadvantage of this place was my allergy to the sizing used in preparing clothes for packaging and selling. My eyes watered and crusted and my skin itched but it put food on the table and a roof over our heads.
One powerful story of that time was about a young man, fifteen years old, who lived in poverty with his mother and worked to keep food on their table while going to school. John had been involved with the Black Panther movement (radically aggressive protesters of rights violations) and was very bitter and strident. When he heard of the Baha'i Faith he fell in love with the teachings of oneness and peace. He studied alone and very intensely, as much as he could, the teachings and became a beautiful example of transformation. He and I were sitting in the small rented center talking one day and noticed out the window that a telephone lineman had put his extension basket, which lifted him high, at the window of the center to watch us. I don't know why unless he thought we were up to something. So John and I went outside and sat on the steps to talk just to kill any rumor of impropriety.
On a teaching trip to South Carolina the local Baha'is rented an American Legion Hut for our gathering to have prayers and plan activities. We didn't know at the time that the building was owned by the KKK and they didn't know who we were and what we stood for. When they found out they came into the building at the back with very angry remarks and the first person they approached was John. We didn't know what his reaction would be but it was beautiful. After hearing their rude and insulting remarks he just smiled and said,
"But I can love you". The Klan member who was shouting at him stopped, stared, then broke down and cried. Before the evening was over he had become a Baha'i and was asking us to go with him and tell his family about our beliefs.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
DR CHARLES RICHARD DREW-BLOOD BANK
excerpt from A SALUTE TO BLACK SCIENTISTS AND INVENTORS, Vol. II, an Empak "Black History" Publication Series
Dr. Charles Richard Drew was a world renowned surgeon, medical scientist, educator and authority on the preservation of blood. He was the pioneer of blood plasma preservation, leaving mankind an important legacy-the blood bank.
Born in 1904, in Washington, DC, he was the eldest of five children born to Charles and Nora Drew.... Charles Drew loved sports and was a tough competitor. He could have become a professional athlete or coach, but his desire to become a doctor was stronger. In 1928, Drew entered McGill University Medical School in Montreal, Canada, and won membership in its Medical Honorary Society. It was at McGill that he became interested in blood research. He received his Master of Surgery and Doctor of Medicine degrees in 1933.
After internship at the Royal Victoria Hospital and the Montreal General Hospital, in Canada, he taught at Howard University's Medical School. Afterwards, at Columbia Presbyterian Hospital, in New York City, he researched a process for blood preservation. During his two years at Columbia, he developed a technique for the long-term preservation of blood plasma. He earned the Doctor of Science in Medicine degree in 1940, with a dissertation on "Banked Blood."
In World War II, England suffered heavy casualties and called upon Dr. Drew to initiate its military blood bank program. There he introduced preserved blood plasma on the battlefield. This system worked so well that the British asked him to organize the world's first mass blood bank project. Dr. Drew also became the first Director of the American Red Cross Blood Bank.
Dr Drew was killed in an automobile acident while on a trip to a medical meeting at Tuskegee Institutee in 1950. The irony of his death is that his life may have been saved if he had received immediate medical attention following the accident. Discrimination at nearby White hospitals did not allow him the blood transfusions needed to save his life.
Every blood bank in the world is a living memorial to the genius of Dr. Charles Richard Drew. His name will live forever in medical history. Schools and health clinics throughout the United States have been named in honor of Drew and his ingenious gift to mankind.
Dr. Charles Richard Drew was a world renowned surgeon, medical scientist, educator and authority on the preservation of blood. He was the pioneer of blood plasma preservation, leaving mankind an important legacy-the blood bank.
Born in 1904, in Washington, DC, he was the eldest of five children born to Charles and Nora Drew.... Charles Drew loved sports and was a tough competitor. He could have become a professional athlete or coach, but his desire to become a doctor was stronger. In 1928, Drew entered McGill University Medical School in Montreal, Canada, and won membership in its Medical Honorary Society. It was at McGill that he became interested in blood research. He received his Master of Surgery and Doctor of Medicine degrees in 1933.
After internship at the Royal Victoria Hospital and the Montreal General Hospital, in Canada, he taught at Howard University's Medical School. Afterwards, at Columbia Presbyterian Hospital, in New York City, he researched a process for blood preservation. During his two years at Columbia, he developed a technique for the long-term preservation of blood plasma. He earned the Doctor of Science in Medicine degree in 1940, with a dissertation on "Banked Blood."
In World War II, England suffered heavy casualties and called upon Dr. Drew to initiate its military blood bank program. There he introduced preserved blood plasma on the battlefield. This system worked so well that the British asked him to organize the world's first mass blood bank project. Dr. Drew also became the first Director of the American Red Cross Blood Bank.
Dr Drew was killed in an automobile acident while on a trip to a medical meeting at Tuskegee Institutee in 1950. The irony of his death is that his life may have been saved if he had received immediate medical attention following the accident. Discrimination at nearby White hospitals did not allow him the blood transfusions needed to save his life.
Every blood bank in the world is a living memorial to the genius of Dr. Charles Richard Drew. His name will live forever in medical history. Schools and health clinics throughout the United States have been named in honor of Drew and his ingenious gift to mankind.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
REALITY OF ONENESS
excerpts from HUMANKIND IS ONE, AND IT'S TIME FOR US ALL TO EMBRACE THAT REALITY, by Jim Turpin, Jan. 25, 2003 in CitizensTimes
Some recent archaelogical findings are causing many scientists to change their minds about our ancestors. It is increasingly clear that life had its beginnings in central Africa. And, with the recent discoveries, there is strong evidence that advanced, curious, adventuresome hominids migrated north out of Africa along riverbanks, beaches and land corridors to populate what is now the Middle East and Eastern Europe. And, growing out from there for thousands of year, their descendents populated the rest of the Earth. (See National Geographic, August, 2002, "The First Pioneers.")
Add to that that geneticists have demonstrated recently that every human being - every one of us - carries a piece of a gene from the genetic material of a single African woman, given the designation "Eve". We can conclude that our concepts of the human genealogy tree is forever altered, that we are much more closely related - interrelated - than we ever imagined....
I met Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. in April, 1965. I spoke with him briefly after he made a brilliant speech in the dining room of the Raburn Senate Office Building in Washington, D. C. He spoke eloquently of the destruction of body and soul of segregation, of the inherent danger of long-lasting scars from "separate but equal", of the yearning for the reality of unity and oneness. I shared with him in that brief but very memorable exchange that my Montagnard friends and patients in the Central Highlands of South Vietnam knew of his work, were inspired by his leadership. They were attempting to practice his methods of nonviolence, despite the racial slurs and constant reminders of their inferiority by the Vietnamese. He thanked me and said, "Young doctor, the world has grown too small for anything less than brotherhood." I will never forget that.
But, now, something strange and frightening is happening. Until the '50s and '60s we had legal segregation. We were forced to practice segregated gatherings, schooling, eating places, amusements, and even worship. We were allowed to fight and die together. Now, those laws are mostly gone. In their place, however, is a "voluntary segregation", with our own neighborhoods, our speciality restaurants (as delicious as they are), our own churches, organizations, clubs and societies. We do not have to practice segregation any longer, but we do.
Something has to change, and soon. The old conventional ways are just not working. I am not sure what "thinking outside the box" really means, but if it includes considering some pretty radical ideas, it might be worth the effort. One thing is certain, we MUST spend more time together - worshiping, playing, eating, visiting, forming friendships outside the crayon boundaries. Humankind is one. It is time to practice it.
Jim Turpin, M.D., M.P.H., is the founder of Project Concern, International, a worldwide medical relief organization. He is the author of Vietname Doctor and A Faraway Country. He lives with his wife, Wrenn, in Fairview (Asheville, NC). They are co-founders of a Symphony on the Block.
Some recent archaelogical findings are causing many scientists to change their minds about our ancestors. It is increasingly clear that life had its beginnings in central Africa. And, with the recent discoveries, there is strong evidence that advanced, curious, adventuresome hominids migrated north out of Africa along riverbanks, beaches and land corridors to populate what is now the Middle East and Eastern Europe. And, growing out from there for thousands of year, their descendents populated the rest of the Earth. (See National Geographic, August, 2002, "The First Pioneers.")
Add to that that geneticists have demonstrated recently that every human being - every one of us - carries a piece of a gene from the genetic material of a single African woman, given the designation "Eve". We can conclude that our concepts of the human genealogy tree is forever altered, that we are much more closely related - interrelated - than we ever imagined....
I met Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. in April, 1965. I spoke with him briefly after he made a brilliant speech in the dining room of the Raburn Senate Office Building in Washington, D. C. He spoke eloquently of the destruction of body and soul of segregation, of the inherent danger of long-lasting scars from "separate but equal", of the yearning for the reality of unity and oneness. I shared with him in that brief but very memorable exchange that my Montagnard friends and patients in the Central Highlands of South Vietnam knew of his work, were inspired by his leadership. They were attempting to practice his methods of nonviolence, despite the racial slurs and constant reminders of their inferiority by the Vietnamese. He thanked me and said, "Young doctor, the world has grown too small for anything less than brotherhood." I will never forget that.
But, now, something strange and frightening is happening. Until the '50s and '60s we had legal segregation. We were forced to practice segregated gatherings, schooling, eating places, amusements, and even worship. We were allowed to fight and die together. Now, those laws are mostly gone. In their place, however, is a "voluntary segregation", with our own neighborhoods, our speciality restaurants (as delicious as they are), our own churches, organizations, clubs and societies. We do not have to practice segregation any longer, but we do.
Something has to change, and soon. The old conventional ways are just not working. I am not sure what "thinking outside the box" really means, but if it includes considering some pretty radical ideas, it might be worth the effort. One thing is certain, we MUST spend more time together - worshiping, playing, eating, visiting, forming friendships outside the crayon boundaries. Humankind is one. It is time to practice it.
Jim Turpin, M.D., M.P.H., is the founder of Project Concern, International, a worldwide medical relief organization. He is the author of Vietname Doctor and A Faraway Country. He lives with his wife, Wrenn, in Fairview (Asheville, NC). They are co-founders of a Symphony on the Block.
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