Freedom of Speaking My Mind

When I was in 5th grade, there was a speech competition focused on freedom, I think. Or maybe it was inventions. Either way, I'm pretty sure one of my classmates, Karalyne or Katherine won with their speech about trains.

I went a less straight-forward route. I wrote about the telephone.

We were still in the midst of the 1980s bit of the Cold War, and tapped phone lines were part of the vernacular of the time. It was a prevalent theme in movies, along with bugging various objects in any given space a person might occupy.

I found the speech several years ago, although I have no clue where it is now, while going through stuff at my parents' house, or in some box Mom shipped off while on a cleaning spree. It was simple and complex, big-picture and small potatoes. It was the rambling of a child who has a warped idea of a country portrayed as out-to-get-us, fed by movies and television shows and the nightly news.

It was also fueled by living 30 miles from Oak Ridge and the knowledge that nuclear weapons were being built there...and that it was a serious possibility that our city would be wiped out early if nuclear war were to break out. (Note: this was a time when we would regularly have bomb drills where we would crouch under our desks, arms and hands covering our heads...like that would help at all in the case of a blast or fallout.)

Back to the speech. I remember lamenting the Russians ability to speak freely. The horror of having to watch what you say. The inability to criticize the government, or a neighbor, for fear of retribution and being locked in a gulag in Siberia.

Doctor Zhivago (1965)

Fast forward to my college days. I was a fierce advocate for the Free Burma movement. I regularly gathered hundreds of signatures in a matter of hours, sent them to Halliburton, Total, Texaco and a handful of other multi-national corporations, asking them to divest from business in Burma and to stop supporting the military junta in power (The State Law and Order Restoration Council--SLORC at the time) which was inflicting human rights abuses and forcibly relocating dozens of ethnic minority groups throughout the country, and in particular, those in the paths of the pipelines these companies were working to build.

I became convinced that my phone was tapped. I heard clicks while interviewing a member of the Pogues for my college paper. I heard clicks while speaking with my friends. I was a little paranoid the the FBI had a file on me, and that Dick Cheney (then at Halliburton) was out to get me. Of course, I have no proof. And, it stopped eventually.

In light of the apparent return of the Cold War within our most recent presidential election, I can't help but think back to that 5th grade speech competition. Today, I used my freedom telephone to call a whole bunch of US Senators to ask them to oppose a cabinet nominee who I believe to be grossly unqualified for the position, and whom I believe would dismantle public education, something I benefited from in elementary, middle and high school.

I believe in our freedom to speak truth to power and am grateful to have had the time and energy to do so today.