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The volume of recent surprisingly vitriolic comments has forced me into this rare, lengthy post.

In this age when our kids and grandkids will spend more time on social media than we adults ever will, is it possible we could set a good example by dialing back the hateful rhetoric, venom, denigration and malice aforethought a bit? Perhaps, display the benefits of the compromise we have learned from grade school, debate club, city council, PTA meetings, our jobs, and our love lives. Can we agree to disagree?

That’s the advantage of the USA compared to many countries. We are allowed to disagree. This isn’t old Germany where if you didn’t “Heil Hitler,” you were killed unless you were lucky enough to flee the country. This isn’t China, where if you held an unpopular opinion you were sent to re-education camps or shot or run over by tanks in Tiananmen Square. This isn’t Saudi Arabia, where you aren’t allowed to even congregate to chant or hold signs while gathered in the street to protest. (Write this on your palm, please, Mr. Secretary Ross, before next talking into the microphone, since your last comment produced the laugh heard ‘round the world.)

Lest you think I have no skin in this game, I have two Marine sons-in-law, an Army nephew, an Air Force father-in-law, veteran great-uncles, and a Navy grandfather whose SeaBee’s were some of the first to land at Normandy to set up the floating pontoons from which nearly all the other forces disembarked. These older veterans especially would have wanted everyone to stand and salute the flag, but would also admit they served to protect ALL our rights, not just some of them.

Whether you agree with these rights or not, they have been adjudicated all the way up to, and through, the Supreme Court and, therefore, are the law of THIS land. I’m confused. Are you advocating against our constitutional rights and our supreme court and want a dictatorship?

There are plenty of countries that have dictators, but your ethnic group or sex might not allow you very many rights in those places, and their constitutions and courts won’t provide you much recourse. Unfortunately, I can only sing our preamble due to my PDT (pre-DirecTV) childhood when we watched Schoolhouse Rock on Saturdays between cartoons. It is not a video you would want to see on YouTube since the “tranquility-ee-ee” always does me in, but I would love to see Jimmy Fallon do it on a Classroom Instruments segment. Or maybe “The Great American Melting Pot” would be a better choice these days.

Of course, our most basic of rights were eloquently penned in historical documents by our immigrant forefathers. Others were gained more recently, often through painful protests. NEWS FLASH: PROTESTS HAVE BEEN, AND ALWAYS WILL BE, MORE PAINFUL FOR ONE SIDE THAN THE OTHER. It was painful for many when abolitionists protested slavery; painful for property owners when non-property owners protested for the right to vote; painful for males when women protested for the right to vote; painful for American immigrants and their descendants when Chinese immigrants and their descendents protested for the right to own property in the ’40s, followed by other Asian minorities in the ’50s; painful for all immigrants when Native Americans (the only true non-immigrants, as most of you on my FB list know since you also grew on or near the Rez) protested for the right to vote; painful for almost everyone, it seems, when African-Americans wanted ANY rights such as to ride any bus, go to any school, hotel, restaurant, or any number of “crazy” things which did not happen until throughout the middle of the ’50s through the ’60s and could arguably still be NOT happening today, and which sparked some of the most violent protests in our history.

Then came the protests in the ’70s that bring us back to flag issues and more violent protests. ARE ANY OF YOU UNION MEMBERS? Many of my older veteran relatives, and even a great-grandmother, joined unions after the war. Some of the bloodiest protests in American history were fought for your standard 40-hour work week, for safer working conditions, lunch breaks, and many other rules now considered commonplace. Those protests were frequently huge, violent street brawls. The police regularly responded with batons by beating, bloodying, and even killing protesters. (Wow, a theme is developing.) These protesters didn’t want to leave America. They wanted to, and did, make it better for all of us immigrant descendants, whether Catholic, Protestant, Jewish, Muslim, atheist, union, non-union, rich, and poor. We have a better way these days. Our freedom of speech is widely enforced by a (supposedly) unbiased police force. We can assemble in peaceful protest. If applicable, in some cases we can voice dissent with employers without fear of reprisal. Our freedom of the press allows us to bring many violations of these rights to light. Wow, isn’t this a great place to live?

But, we can always continue to improve on the work of our ancestors. Let us try to remember our lessons from history. I have my own minor ongoing protest. I refuse to participate in the “bless you” associated with sneezing. After learning in an anthropology class that the tradition originates from superstitions that evil spirits enter your body while you gasp for breath (instead of the reality that evil dust or evil pollen enter your nostrils), I just can’t say it convincingly without laughing, and I truly can’t look at the sneezer.

Of course, this irritates some people, including my sister-in-law, Monique. If conversation stops, those hairs on my neck stand up indicating someone is glaring, and I’m facing an interminable silence, or if I’m in a formal setting or with an elder I’ll sometimes cave and mumble quickly, quietly and unintelligibly, “May the evil spirits not enter your body,” but that is the best I can do and I still am unable to look at the sneezer.

I’ll give in that much, but it’s my right not to go any further. A compromise of sorts, ONLY if absolutely necessary.

Look, I don’t care who you voted for, or what YOU think about professional athletes, saluting the flag, sneezing, or MY opinions, for that matter. I’m not even saying that one side is entirely right or entirely wrong. Your opinions are YOURS. My opinions are MINE. I’m just talking about legal rights and this basic childhood, parental, teacher, adult concept: “WHY HAVE YOU GOTTA BE SO MEAN?”

Darla Orr