Evil - How do you write about evil.
Evil is a word I seldom use. Evil conjures up thoughts of red devils, fire and brimstone,
hell and damnation. Evil is not just bad, it's rotten to the core. In my mind evil
is that person or thing which causes dire bodily harm, emotional turmoil, pain and
agony so bad as to drive a person mad...which would make a person wish he were dead
so as not to have to endure it. I want nothing to do with evil.
Bad? Now
bad isn't good, but it's not quite in the same category as evil. Bad comes in black
and white and all the shades of gray. Bad can be capricious or playful. Bad can be
mischievous, spiteful or hateful. Bad can masquerade as love and concern. Bad is
what children are taught not to be. Bad is what dogs and wild things are called.
Bad's what we are in our Mama's eyes when we stray from the path she hopes we will
follow.
When my brother and I were bad, Mama pulled a switch from one of
the bushes in the yard and "tanned our hides" to quote the terms of the
times. It was worse when she made us pull the switch ourselves. Bad was sassin' back,
cussin', lyin', breakin' any of the ten commandments, comin' home late, not bein'
where we were supposed to be, or any number of other minor infractions of Mama's
choosin'. And, with Mama, everyone was guilty until proven innocent. The problem
there was that we were all too often switched before we were able to prove anything!
But we weren't evil and we were loved. She made sure we understood that.
You'd think that growing up in the deep south when segregation was the proper way
of things, that I would have been taught or learned that black was evil and white
was good. But it wasn't that way at all for us. Sure, there were black schools and
white schools, white town and nigger town, but I never remember my mother degrading
anyone of color and I felt just as safe getting off the bus in the middle of nigger
town and walking several blocks each year to the county fairgrounds as I felt getting
off the bus at home. And I never had any more problem with waiting at the bus stop
with a whole group of niggers on my way home from school than I did getting on the
bus with only white kids on the way to school.
Now all you folks of color
out there, please forgive my use of the word nigger here. That was the only word
I knew for you folks when I was growing up. The terms "Black", or "People
of Color", or "Afro-American" or whatever term is currently in vogue,
had not come into use then as proper terms for people with brown skin. And my Mama
had no bad feeling's about any of them. They were just people to her and that's how
I grew up feeling too. I remember there being a nigger woman who came to help my
Mama out once a week for a while. Or maybe it was more often; I don't remember now.
I don't even know how it came about or exactly what she did. We certainly couldn't
have afforded to pay her. Heck, we were as poor as they were! But I remember she
was nice and I liked her.
When I married an Air Force man and left Florida
at 18 to follow Uncle Sam's plan for our lives, I encountered other sorts of good
and bad, evil and ecstacy. The Cuban missile crisis was bad. The Vietnam war was
evil. Having four beautiful children was good. Losing one was bad, tragic, heartbreaking.
Making lots of friends was good. Missing them when they moved away to some other
base was bad.
Traveling when Peggy was National Poster Child for MDA was
good. Seeing her fall ill so often with bronchitis and pneumonia was bad. Meeting
other children with muscular dystrophy and getting to know their parents was good.
Grieving with those same parents when Death came knocking was bad.
Seeing
my boys grow up strong, and intelligent, loving and kind was good. Finding that one
of them was gay was.... not bad, but not what every mother wants for her child. This
was another thing, idea, concept which came easily to my family. David's choice of
lifestyle was accepted by everyone and our love for him never wavered for an instant.
Is homosexuality bad? I don't think so. We firmly believe that it is better to love
than not to love. And who he loves is his choice, not ours.
So what do I
know of evil? Good and bad, and black and white, and all the shades of gray, but
evil.... not much ...and I hope it stays that way! Amen!