Of Wenches and Violition

The decisions we make in life are outcomes that come from many origins. Some are the result of knee jerk snap shots of feeling and information, some are ingrained from experience or training, and some come from simple obedience to authority. There are decisions we make for personal benefit that often end disastrously. And, some decisions are made from pure conviction.
I’ve tried very hard to quiet the attitudes and opinions that came with the passionate soapbox Dad said was attached to my feet at birth. Innumerable are the times folks have told me to relax, don’t take things so seriously, it doesn’t matter, on and on and on. So, the little girl put her soapbox away just to make peace; safely tucked away with family photos and memorabilia. Like they said…why make things difficult for yourself? And then the census questionnaire came.
As I read the census forms noticing what questions were being asked and those that were not, strong apprehension started to rise up. Why did the census form need my name and phone number when it didn’t ask if I were a qualified voter? The census form was mailed to “resident” which should conclude that I am a “resident”. (legal or illegal is another matter). The IRS has my name, the Social Security Department has my name, and soon, the healthcare national record system will have my name. I am working, paying my bills on time, pay my taxes, and live a quiet life staying out of trouble. The census form has my address. Good enough.
Although the rules say there is a fine for not filling out questions on the census questionnaire, I decided to limit the information I willingly shared. I told them the number of residents here (1), my sex (f), and my age for projected district and budgetary considerations. I did not tell them my name, my phone number, my date of birth, or my racial classification. Why? Basically, because my children and grandchildren need to know that there are times when those employed by the government need to hear the word “no”. There are times when we need to remind those employed by us (us being US citizens) that they do not have unlimited power over us. Freedom is precious and worth protecting. Freedom happens when we put limits on what we allow others, who think they have power to make us do something, convince us to do. Sometimes we have to say, for the sake of future generations, “this far and no farther”.
My family has a history of public service for generations. Many were one of ”the firsts” in some field of expertise. Although I may not be the first of anything in my family, I am pulling the soapbox out of the memorabilia storage container, dusting it off, reinforcing the corners, and putting on a fresh coat of paint.
Best wishes for contemplative decision making,
The SturdyWench.
comments: tenacity@sturdywench.com


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