If You're Skeered, Say So

1 April, 2014

Without trying to be antagonistic or patronizing, I believe that the USA has shifted considerably in the last two or three decades. I don't pretend to know why, nor do I have any answers. I am just making anecdotal observations from afar.

Let's take a look at the year 1980:

• Ronald Reagan was President.
• The enemy was the U.S.S.R.
• Cartoons were on Saturday mornings.
• Space Shuttle Columbia was preparing for an April 12, 1981 liftoff.
• We were between Rocky II and Rocky III.
  
• Nobody locked their doors.

How about the 90's?

I remember coming home from college one weekend and standing, bewildered, at the back door of my home. The door was locked, and I didn't know what to do. I had never encountered a locked door at my house in my entire life. The year was 1992. I knew Linda and Louis would be home, so I went to their house and ate dinner, while waiting for my parents to return home. Something was changing in my world.

The 2000's?

Susan and I finished building our house in 1997. Her family lived in a gated community, behind locked doors, safeguarded by an alarm system. Susan would attach the "Club" to her steering wheel when pumping gas.

We needed to reach a detente about the front door. Our compromise was that the door would remain locked at all times, but I was free to tell everyone that the key was ingeniously hidden under the ceramic rabbit right beside the door. Every night before I went to sleep, I would check all the doors in the house and close the garage for the night. We lived in Pinehurst, North Carolina, home of golf retirees and Special Forces soldiers.  Why did I need to lock the doors?

Now?

Everybody in my family back in South Carolina and most of my friends in Pinehurst, NC tote at least one weapon at all times. Don't get me wrong. Where I come from, gun control means you have a steady hand. I believe in the right to bear arms, and to use them, if needed. What disturbs me, however, is the culture of fear that seems to be permeating our society. We always believed in the right, but never thought we would need to exercise it. Somehow a boogieman has arisen among us, and we no longer feel safe at night, or really at any time, even when surreptitiously toting a .45 through Wal-Mart. 

I didn't realize how pervasive this attitude was, until I moved to Spain. I was shocked that good Spanish parents allowed their sons and daughters to roam the streets without a guardian. I was nonplussed to find out that nobody coordinated play dates, where parents could watch over their little ones. I was disabused to find no hand sanitizer and that they drank water straight from the hose.

Then I realized that this is exactly how I grew up. My parents did not have one clue regarding my whereabouts, until I slinked back home. The entire town of Hartsville, South Carolina was at my disposal. I could pedal or drive anywhere I dang well pleased, and I was not alone in this privilege. It was normal. What happened?

Statistically, nothing has happened. If anything, Hartsville is a safer city, overall, than a decade ago. To be sure, there are pockets of danger, as is the case with every town or city. If you go looking for trouble, you are sure to find it. The change, in my opinion, is occurring in our minds and in our perceptions of risk. We are scared.

Somehow, we are changing from a nation of achievers and risk-takers to a nation of nonstarters and milquetoasts. We would rather watch other people try something, experiencing a rich, fulfilling virtual life. Red Bull has capitalized on this obsession by promoting death-defying sports. Their athletes have become modern day gladiators.

We cheer whether they succeed or fail, reveling equally in their glory or demise. Perhaps we are following the way of other great civilizations, falling into decay and debauchery. In our case, however, we seem to be traveling at incredible speeds.

I don't know what to do with this. Perhaps I am seeing what is not there, but I don't think so. I am no bastion of virtue, to be sure. I love the Red Bull sports and I am inclined to partake in debauchery at certain levels as well, depending on your definition, so please don't blow up my inbox with invective.

Many people thought we were crazy for moving to Spain. The risks were too great for minimal and questionable rewards. Perhaps. Or maybe we are just vestiges from another generation, looking more and more antiquated by the day.

What is Your Superpower?

I once asked several middle and high school students what kind of superpower they would want to have. The answers were a little surprising to me at first, but upon reflection, I understand more clearly. Being unsure of their surroundings, scared of imminent dangers and petrified of being embarrassed, these students valued invisibility over flight, great strength or laser beam eyes. We live in a society of fear and ambiguity, and they want to disappear into a virtual reality.

In a recent conversation with my sister, we discussed our superpowers. Hers is creative intelligence. Becky can put together incongruent pieces of information and explain it to somebody like me. She can make the blind see and the deaf hear.

Mine is the ability to quickly adapt to any situation. I have learned to be happy in every environment, foreign or domestic. Everywhere I go, I find a way to fit in. In large part, this is a defense mechanism that I acquired in middle school, as a way to survive. None of the normal categories fit me. I was not, and am not, a jock, musician, artist or whiz kid. Without any identity, I faced a school career of isolation, which is kryptonite to me. The weakness of yesterday is now the strength of today. I am Adaptaman.

Every superpower comes with limitations and responsibilities, however. We must use our powers for Good, not gain and for others, not ourselves. One of the shortcomings with being so adaptable is that I often get confused about who I really am. What color is a chameleon? The answer could be the color of his surroundings, but sometimes the outside world doesn't match the inward realities. The danger in adapting is in not being able to return to your original self, if you can even identify who that self was in the first place. Being all things to all people sometimes means being nothing to yourself.

Spain provides an excellent laboratory to work on my powers and to pass them on. Elizabeth seems to have some of the same abilities. She fought our move at first, refusing to give up her American identity, fearing it would be lost forever. Now she has learned that it doesn't go away. The new Spanish identity is added to it, like another tool in the toolbox. She has learned the language better than any of us. The other day, I asked her to write for ten minutes about the importance of learning Spanish. She wrote two pages of beautiful Spanish, as if it was her native language. I was amazed. She has also learned how to navigate complicated relationships, especially with girls. Regardless of culture or language, high school girls can be catty. Elizabeth has learned to be a bridge between people, instead of a wedge. She can bend without breaking. She is Flexigirl.

Katherine has not discovered her power yet, but it is not adaptability. That much we know. She is struggling mightily with the myriad changes in her life. A new language, new culture, new school, new people and a new body is hard for any person to handle. My heart hurts for her. We have cast her into the deepest ocean and have asked her to swim toward a shore that she cannot see. Her resolve has run out, and she wants to stop swimming, but she has a stubborn will and iron resolve. Spain is applying the heat she needs to melt away some of the slag in her life, so that the will and resolve can be mixed to create a powerful and pure steel alloy, capable of withstanding incredible forces and strains. One day she will save the world, if we can just help her endure the unbearable heat of the crucible. This is an incredibly painful process, but she will endure and triumph over her challenges. Katherine is Steel Magnolia.

Susan's power is more subtle. She is quiet and reserved, which leads some to believe she is weak. That is a huge miscalculation. Susan has powers that defy imagination. She is like water. At rest, water seems innocuous. In motion, however, it can cut canyon walls through solid rock like the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. She is an unstoppable force. We ride along her river and enjoy the views. Without Susan we would simply sit in our little canoe, wishing for some water. She is Madame Aqua.

We have not yet perfected how to use our forces together as a team. That time will come, though, when we unite. We are world changers, on a mission from God, aka Master of the Universe. Join forces with us. I can only speak a word of caution to any who oppose us. You will lose.