Question: So... if it doesn't actually kill jobs, then we're done here, right?
Nothing left to do, it seems... We don't have a law called Obamacare, or a law that kills jobs.
The debate is going so well, we should extend it! We're learning all about what it does! Besides, I want to hear directly from the mouths of ALL the people who because of The Affordable Care Act:
• lost a job
• paid more for prescriptions
• decided not to hire a person
• had to layoff a person
• had fewer choices to cover their families
• is less likely to get preventative screenings or treatment...
(note: these are past tense... meaning it has already happened...
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Sunday, January 16, 2011
To Be Or Not Be A Hero: What makes a hero, and who decides?
I am so sick and tired of hearing this: "I'm not a hero... it's the [other people] who are the real heroes." We heard it again this week from Daniel Hernandez, Representative Gabby Gifford's intern, the brave young man who ran toward the bullets and used his brand new first aid skills to keep her alive until the emergency responders arrived.
Why is it so difficult for a person who has behaved like a hero, even if it was only for one split-second potentially life-saving moment, to accept the praise of his community and allow himself to be called by the only label that adequately fits? For the past few days, I have been so significantly perplexed by this question that I decided to make the topic the subject of this inaugural "Dingaroo Chew" Blog.
Obviously, the discussion must begin with the official definition. Hoping for a clue as to where this resistance originated, I pulled out The Oxford American Dictionary of Current English, which defines "hero" this way:
1. a person noted or admired for nobility, courage, outstanding achievements, etc.
2. the chief male character in a poem, play, story, etc.
3. [from Greek Antiquity] a man of superhuman qualities, favored by the gods; a demigod.
4. a submarine sandwich.
Bingo. Here we find the location of the problem, right there in definition #3. Part of our consciousness must be hung up in Greek Antiquity, living in the shadow of an archetype we do not believe we can ever embody, even for a moment. The problem is, WE DO. We do embody the hero archetype... in varying degrees, certainly, and perhaps in fleeting moments, but we ordinary men and women and children DO occasionally do this "hero" thing. (Animals do it too, but they are smart enough not to dismiss the label, so I leave them out of the discussion here.) Now, I don't know anyone who would say that heroes are only demigods, or that they accomplish feats of bravery only because they are especially favored by the divine. No one would mistake Daniel Hernandez or any other hero for being half-god (as the Greeks believed) any more than they would mistake him for a subway sandwich. So why do we seem utterly unable to use the term hero to describe ourselves? Or even graciously accept the compliment when someone else says it? What are we afraid of? Overconfidence? Pressure that we have to repeat it?
Why is it so difficult for a person who has behaved like a hero, even if it was only for one split-second potentially life-saving moment, to accept the praise of his community and allow himself to be called by the only label that adequately fits? For the past few days, I have been so significantly perplexed by this question that I decided to make the topic the subject of this inaugural "Dingaroo Chew" Blog.
Obviously, the discussion must begin with the official definition. Hoping for a clue as to where this resistance originated, I pulled out The Oxford American Dictionary of Current English, which defines "hero" this way:
1. a person noted or admired for nobility, courage, outstanding achievements, etc.
2. the chief male character in a poem, play, story, etc.
3. [from Greek Antiquity] a man of superhuman qualities, favored by the gods; a demigod.
4. a submarine sandwich.
Bingo. Here we find the location of the problem, right there in definition #3. Part of our consciousness must be hung up in Greek Antiquity, living in the shadow of an archetype we do not believe we can ever embody, even for a moment. The problem is, WE DO. We do embody the hero archetype... in varying degrees, certainly, and perhaps in fleeting moments, but we ordinary men and women and children DO occasionally do this "hero" thing. (Animals do it too, but they are smart enough not to dismiss the label, so I leave them out of the discussion here.) Now, I don't know anyone who would say that heroes are only demigods, or that they accomplish feats of bravery only because they are especially favored by the divine. No one would mistake Daniel Hernandez or any other hero for being half-god (as the Greeks believed) any more than they would mistake him for a subway sandwich. So why do we seem utterly unable to use the term hero to describe ourselves? Or even graciously accept the compliment when someone else says it? What are we afraid of? Overconfidence? Pressure that we have to repeat it?
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