Lessons from Somalia
I’m a regional truck driver. This means that I am relegated to spend my time, and all of my miles in the Northeastern corridor of these United States. With this fact stated, I must add that I still like to feel connected with the rest of this planet we reside on. One of the ways I am able to do this is through the consumption of words and pictures.
I regularly follow the news even though someone once told me this is bad. It’s a negative way to spend my free time, I was told, because reading the news puts one at risk to become depressed. I try and look at things as if I am not the only person in the world, or even the center of the Universe. I always roll the dice and keep on learning what is happening in other corners of the world, many of which I would like to visit but probably never will.
A regular source of my news, especially when I am on the road, is the Drudge Report. I even have an application for my android phone that allows me to scan the headlines in a simple form. This weekend’s Drudge Report contained a couple interesting headlines: “Controversy over hip-hop BBQ at the Whitehouse” (Obama parties hard to celebrate his 50th birthday while our nation sits in turmoil), and “Jersey Shore Blowout” (nine million people wasted how many hours rotting their brains watching that garbage.) Neither one of those headlines could cause me nor anyone else to get the feeling that our nation is doomed. No sir-e, not one single soul should be concerned that all isn’t well in our little world.
There are times when Drudge doesn’t quite quench my thirst for news, especially locally. I frequently purchase a local newspaper as I did in some state in New England during the past week. I may be old fashioned, but nothing beats reclining in my bed at the end of the day, and learning what’s going on in the world around me. I learned a little about the state I was visiting through the local news section. I flipped a few more pages and saw one of the most heartbreaking pictures I ever did see:
The picture of course, is of yet another starving child in Somalia. My knowledge of Somalia is limited to the fact that is a worn-torn chaotic corner of the earth. I read the article with a heavy heart and stared at the picture for a few minutes. I wondered how many people saw that picture and didn’t bother to read the article. Some probably didn’t care. Others so saddened by the picture; they couldn’t bear to read the words.
I was sad, and I did care. As a parent and one who adores all children, I did what I thought was best: I took it home and showed it to my kids.
I regularly follow the news even though someone once told me this is bad. It’s a negative way to spend my free time, I was told, because reading the news puts one at risk to become depressed. I try and look at things as if I am not the only person in the world, or even the center of the Universe. I always roll the dice and keep on learning what is happening in other corners of the world, many of which I would like to visit but probably never will.
A regular source of my news, especially when I am on the road, is the Drudge Report. I even have an application for my android phone that allows me to scan the headlines in a simple form. This weekend’s Drudge Report contained a couple interesting headlines: “Controversy over hip-hop BBQ at the Whitehouse” (Obama parties hard to celebrate his 50th birthday while our nation sits in turmoil), and “Jersey Shore Blowout” (nine million people wasted how many hours rotting their brains watching that garbage.) Neither one of those headlines could cause me nor anyone else to get the feeling that our nation is doomed. No sir-e, not one single soul should be concerned that all isn’t well in our little world.
There are times when Drudge doesn’t quite quench my thirst for news, especially locally. I frequently purchase a local newspaper as I did in some state in New England during the past week. I may be old fashioned, but nothing beats reclining in my bed at the end of the day, and learning what’s going on in the world around me. I learned a little about the state I was visiting through the local news section. I flipped a few more pages and saw one of the most heartbreaking pictures I ever did see:
The picture of course, is of yet another starving child in Somalia. My knowledge of Somalia is limited to the fact that is a worn-torn chaotic corner of the earth. I read the article with a heavy heart and stared at the picture for a few minutes. I wondered how many people saw that picture and didn’t bother to read the article. Some probably didn’t care. Others so saddened by the picture; they couldn’t bear to read the words.
I was sad, and I did care. As a parent and one who adores all children, I did what I thought was best: I took it home and showed it to my kids.
I made each of them look at it and told them the story of why the child appears the way he is. I asked them if they could imagine what it must feel like to be that hungry. I hoped my short visual and audio presentation stuck with them.
There were a few lessons I hoped they learned:
My eight-year-old Son is the quite possibly the most finicky eater on the planet. I asked him if he thinks the little guy in the picture cared what food was placed in front of him. They should be thankful for the food they have, whatever it is.
They should feel fortunate for being born in the USA. This doesn’t mean they need to feel a sense of entitlement because of it. Lots of people around the world barely survive under horrible conditions, and some don’t survive at all. Some folks, right in or near our own hometowns, live in desperation. Our nation has a major homeless problem that nobody cares much about. I hope my kids would learn what they have, and grow up appreciating it.
When people work hard and become successful, it’s perfectly acceptable to enjoy it. It’s even better to volunteer your time or resources to help others in need. When I read this article and saw that picture, I wanted to hop on a fast airplane and go do something, anything at all to help. My responsibilities to my family preclude me from traveling away from my job, but as poor as I am, twenty bucks here and there would surely help, especially if hundreds of other people did the same thing.
I want my children to understand there is an entire world that lies beyond the neighborhood where they are growing up. I hope they understand that this is a world made up of us, not one that is only about “me,me,me”. People are powerful when banded together, and to think differently is putting their kids and their Grandkids at risk for being the next kid in that photograph.
When my kids grow out of Nickelodeon and other television programming meant for young minds, I want them to spend their idle time viewing something that nourishes the brain rather than rotting it. There are fantastic networks out there such as the History Channel and the always-wonderful Discovery networks.
If any of my kids ever becomes President of these United States and has a milestone birthday to celebrate, I would hope they would have a small celebration in the privacy of their own home. No matter what age you are, it’s never okay to make something so much about yourself when what you do effects so many other people, especially when so many of those people are struggling, while others are dying to protect our freedoms.
I’m just a regional truck driver. I spent a lot of my time sitting inside a box with wheels, but I like to think my mind thinks outside of it. That said, I think a lot of grown-ups could learn the same lessons I want my kids to learn.
To the people who reside in a worn-torn and massively famished country a half a world away, many of us do care and want to help. As for myself, I’ll contribute what I can. These words are my start. Hang in there and may God bless you all.
U.S. estimates have put the death toll for children under five-years-old at 29,000 in Southern Somalia. Another 640,000 are severely malnourished putting them at risk to meet the same fate.
My eight-year-old Son is the quite possibly the most finicky eater on the planet. I asked him if he thinks the little guy in the picture cared what food was placed in front of him. They should be thankful for the food they have, whatever it is.
They should feel fortunate for being born in the USA. This doesn’t mean they need to feel a sense of entitlement because of it. Lots of people around the world barely survive under horrible conditions, and some don’t survive at all. Some folks, right in or near our own hometowns, live in desperation. Our nation has a major homeless problem that nobody cares much about. I hope my kids would learn what they have, and grow up appreciating it.
When people work hard and become successful, it’s perfectly acceptable to enjoy it. It’s even better to volunteer your time or resources to help others in need. When I read this article and saw that picture, I wanted to hop on a fast airplane and go do something, anything at all to help. My responsibilities to my family preclude me from traveling away from my job, but as poor as I am, twenty bucks here and there would surely help, especially if hundreds of other people did the same thing.
I want my children to understand there is an entire world that lies beyond the neighborhood where they are growing up. I hope they understand that this is a world made up of us, not one that is only about “me,me,me”. People are powerful when banded together, and to think differently is putting their kids and their Grandkids at risk for being the next kid in that photograph.
When my kids grow out of Nickelodeon and other television programming meant for young minds, I want them to spend their idle time viewing something that nourishes the brain rather than rotting it. There are fantastic networks out there such as the History Channel and the always-wonderful Discovery networks.
If any of my kids ever becomes President of these United States and has a milestone birthday to celebrate, I would hope they would have a small celebration in the privacy of their own home. No matter what age you are, it’s never okay to make something so much about yourself when what you do effects so many other people, especially when so many of those people are struggling, while others are dying to protect our freedoms.
I’m just a regional truck driver. I spent a lot of my time sitting inside a box with wheels, but I like to think my mind thinks outside of it. That said, I think a lot of grown-ups could learn the same lessons I want my kids to learn.
To the people who reside in a worn-torn and massively famished country a half a world away, many of us do care and want to help. As for myself, I’ll contribute what I can. These words are my start. Hang in there and may God bless you all.
U.S. estimates have put the death toll for children under five-years-old at 29,000 in Southern Somalia. Another 640,000 are severely malnourished putting them at risk to meet the same fate.
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