I AM NOT A POLITICAL tinkerer by any means. I care of course, but I would rather keep my political opinions to myself.
One thing I will say is that I think war is scary and I am pretty sure I am not alone with my sentiments.
Maybe scary is an understatement.
Let me forewarn you that I do not mean to oppose or support the idea of war, because at any time it might come down to being necessary. And, I can support our troops without supporting some of the causes they are ordered to fight for.
My grandfather was a great man. Gentle, compassionate and knowledgeable — everything a grandpa should be.
But I never really knew him.
I know the man that I saw for several weeks every summer, at Thanksgiving, and during Christmas vacation.
I can only rely on what has been recollected about him because after he came home from World War II, he was a changed man.
I can understand that: How could he not have been changed by the things he saw and had done?
Besides the traits I have already mentioned, he was brave and courageous, too.
Rumor has it, he and some of the fellow members of the 442nd Regimental Combat Team, G Company of Japanese-Americans went into a gun battle at night and when morning came more than three-fourths of the men were dead.
The 442nd Regimental Combat Team is the most decorated units in the history of the United States Armed Forces.
He received a Bronze Star Medal for his efforts. When it is awarded for bravery it is the fourth highest combat award of the U.S. Armed Forces.
A couple years ago I was at the Go For Broke monument honoring the different military units served in by Japanese-Americans during World War II. I located my grandfather̢۪s name and there was a star to the left of it.
A star by the name of a veteran meant that he had also received a Purple Heart, given to soldiers who were either wounded or killed in action.
The funny thing is no one in my family ever saw the award or knew for sure where he was wounded. He never talked about the war after he got back except to say that war is bad.
I have also had the pleasure of knowing some young men who have served a couple of tours in Iraq.
Although I did not know the men before they joined their choice of armed forces, I did befriend them after.
Trying to be respectful, I refrained from asking all the questions that usually come up when someone says they served in Iraq.
I noticed two things while hanging out with these men. They were always under the influence of something and they were not hesitant at all in answering questions about serving, when other people asked.
In fact, they were all too eager to say how they did not mind killing people and both said they sought it out.
I didn̢۪t ask if they drank or did drugs to handle their problems because I didn̢۪t think it was my business. I still don̢۪t.
They seemed all happy go-lucky but I have never seen people party as hard as these guys did.
But, I have to wonder whether they were under the influence all the time to cope with what they had seen and done. I think I know the answer.
As with my grandpa, friends who had known these men prior to serving said they were different as well.
I can̢۪t say whether the same thing happens to every veteran, but all the experience I̢۪ve had has led me to my informal conclusion.
I have not decided who I am going to vote for during the primaries, but I will be leaning toward a candidate who provides comprehensive services for our veterans, so that some other young girl or boy can have the pleasure of knowing their grandfather completely.
Chino Constantine • Jan 14, 2008 at 4:28 pm
I shall take on politics on the deep end.
It’s something to be proud of. At times we find ourselves fluttering about, with our heads hanging low not understanding what plagues us; either the norms are shifting in high speed to support a particular or “special interestâ€Â when the youth were just settling in, or rapid change is raising havoc for baby boomers.
Conservatively, and independently, I must proclaim that keeping record of our roots, acknowledging our past and the accomplishments of our forefathers – like Grandpa – aid us in understanding who we are. I believe in this; we gain a greater appreciation for our surroundings without being impressed with fear. The various problems society faces are being cast all at once as technology rapidly advances. Keeping up with technological advances in other countries has certainly puts a strain on the science departments of higher institutions, whom are on this fore front of competition.
What other problems and/or solution will be unmasked – surely, more problems than solutions will be brought to the surface. I understand that the research that unveils these concerns sustains human life, but sometimes I wish they would just go away – the problems, that is. There is never any rest in some cultures.
This way it wouldn’t be necessary to eradicate an entire culture pertinent to development and progress in hopes to sustain tomorrow’s generation that is only a jewel in our eyes – it is difficult to understand the concept for us laymen’s when death is inevitable (awareness can be a dangerous business). I tend to become a bit more skeptical when concerned parties leave behind a print by means of sheer force and repetition – not for the sake of human development, like in your grandfathers case that was socialized in the military, but competition.
Recently, I have, myself, felt as if I have been laid out on the wayside by a subculture in grievance, which tames society with coarse measures. Influential forces, exploiting the majority, presume take control of the various movements in empathy to steer a culture in a direction that benefits their economic interests.
This majority tends to symbolize a resisting nature; which presents a potentially dangereous norm. This norm [may] make it difficult for employers to obtain quality employment and managers to manage their teams. It leaves citizens like me out; so it is the big city for me I guess. Perhaps there I can learn to adapt and be more successful.
To sustain serenity and develop new tolerances, I encase the arts. I read, study my culture, my indigenous roots and the social sciences. I also write poetry, while looking to experience and accomplished poets (sadly, these are truly dead poets, not even the golden braided strands of history could keep them alive).
I no longer read the local news papers to scan the markets, nor watch mainstream media though I have a degree in business, and my certifications in marketing management. The Collegian has been a decent source of information.
Write on Allison.
Chino Constantine • Jan 14, 2008 at 11:28 pm
I shall take on politics on the deep end.
It’s something to be proud of. At times we find ourselves fluttering about, with our heads hanging low not understanding what plagues us; either the norms are shifting in high speed to support a particular or “special interest” when the youth were just settling in, or rapid change is raising havoc for baby boomers.
Conservatively, and independently, I must proclaim that keeping record of our roots, acknowledging our past and the accomplishments of our forefathers ”“ like Grandpa ”“ aid us in understanding who we are. I believe in this; we gain a greater appreciation for our surroundings without being impressed with fear. The various problems society faces are being cast all at once as technology rapidly advances. Keeping up with technological advances in other countries has certainly puts a strain on the science departments of higher institutions, whom are on this fore front of competition.
What other problems and/or solution will be unmasked – surely, more problems than solutions will be brought to the surface. I understand that the research that unveils these concerns sustains human life, but sometimes I wish they would just go away – the problems, that is. There is never any rest in some cultures.
This way it wouldn’t be necessary to eradicate an entire culture pertinent to development and progress in hopes to sustain tomorrow’s generation that is only a jewel in our eyes ”“ it is difficult to understand the concept for us laymen’s when death is inevitable (awareness can be a dangerous business). I tend to become a bit more skeptical when concerned parties leave behind a print by means of sheer force and repetition ”“ not for the sake of human development, like in your grandfathers case that was socialized in the military, but competition.
Recently, I have, myself, felt as if I have been laid out on the wayside by a subculture in grievance, which tames society with coarse measures. Influential forces, exploiting the majority, presume take control of the various movements in empathy to steer a culture in a direction that benefits their economic interests.
This majority tends to symbolize a resisting nature; which presents a potentially dangereous norm. This norm [may] make it difficult for employers to obtain quality employment and managers to manage their teams. It leaves citizens like me out; so it is the big city for me I guess. Perhaps there I can learn to adapt and be more successful.
To sustain serenity and develop new tolerances, I encase the arts. I read, study my culture, my indigenous roots and the social sciences. I also write poetry, while looking to experience and accomplished poets (sadly, these are truly dead poets, not even the golden braided strands of history could keep them alive).
I no longer read the local news papers to scan the markets, nor watch mainstream media though I have a degree in business, and my certifications in marketing management. The Collegian has been a decent source of information.
Write on Allison.