A promise to keep
Vows for hope, responsibility by Bush are ones the people will remember
Sunny
Side |
Up I
with
Dear Governor George W. Bush:
I had the distinct honor of meeting
you in Omaha this Tuesday evening at
a fund-raiser.
I wanted you to know that what
you said about the future of our coun
try and the direction it needs to take in
the new millennium really resonated
with Nebraskans. At least from what I
could tell.
I have to be honest. I was some
what skeptical about a candidate who
has seemingly been anointed, not only
by the establishment but essentially by
the media, as the next president of the
United States of America. Well, at
least anointed as the Republican nom
inee. But your message spoke straight
to my heart.
I felt so inspired when you told us
that the “purpose of prosperity is to
make sure the American dream touch
es every willing heart.”
It would seem that in the hustle
and bustle of our busy world, we
underestimate the potential of people.
I believe if we raise the standard of
expectation, give our children a foun
dation to cling to and reject the clas
sist idea of second-rate citizenship -
America will once again be headed in
the right direction.
So often people assume poverty
and the tribulations of life beget more
poverty and failure. So often people
see the lower and working class as a
burden to society.
But I’m from the wrong side of
After two days on the airplane,
the pre-departure tension and anxiety
had been ftilly digested, leaving me
with a knot of pretzels and cheap,
PBR-style, British beer moving
rapidly through my bowels (always a
combination for a Maalox moment).
I was glad to get out of London,
that destitute, deplorable city of
debauchery and congestion.
The 12-hour layover had given me
just enough time (actually, I could
have done it in much less time) to
become fully jaded and annoyed by
the crude, cold congeniality the
British conquered the world with.
Leaving Gatwick Airport, I took a
bus downtown. What I found in cen
tral London was hardly the attitude
and style in which I wanted to begin
my trip around the world, nor my
year-long study abroad in Tanzania,
East Africa.
The crew-cut, Puritan,
Midwestern work ethic and self
reliant dogmatism - trumpeted by the
Nebraska “Big Red” flag, which is
embellished into all of our personas
over the years, was quickly fading to
a London muckish color of mutton or
shepherd’s pie.
Calling upon the strength,
resilience and amplitude of dignity
the tracks, and I’m doing quite well
for myself. I feel fortunate to be a citi
zen in a country where I can work
hard and get ahead. I believe the
promise of America is the hope for a
better tomorrow.
Here in Nebraska we have real
American heroes. Farmers who get up
with the sun and work through the
night to provide for their families.
Mothers who take on a second job so
their daughters can go to prom. And
students who work their way through
college with the prayer that they can
do more for their children.
And I think it’s heroes like these in
this country who are banking on your
promise to match a conservative mind
with a compassionate heart.
You talked about school yards that
have turned into battlefields, the fail
ures of education, children who don’t
have dreams, drug abuse, illegitimacy
- and you defined these things as the
burdens on the conscience of our
nation. “The next president must close
the gap of hope,” you said.
More than a dozen children died
ding my head in agreement.
Then I caught myself. I was one of
only a handful of people in attendance
who hadn’t pledged $ 1,000 to be
there. I was surrounded by the finan
cial powerhouses of Omaha - and I
was just wondering - does your /jjjji
audience, this audience, under
stand what kind of hopelessness j|
many of their fellow Americans
experience? 1L
And I’m still wondering if
your audience will give so freely j|
to their churches and faith-based 1|
institutions to combat the suffer
ing and hardships that will fill the ^Si
inevitable void between welfare A
and dependency.
You’ve been called a “fund- f
raising machine,” so I suppose ^
you often find yourself surrounded
by the rich and powerful. Actually, for
all practical purposes, you are the rich
and powerful. Aiid I suppose it’s indi
viduals like you, who address the
plight of the poor, that give everyday
Americans reason to believe that
maybe the higher-ups still believe all
people matter.
Here, in the youth of my knowl
edge, I want to believe your campaign
promises.
I want to believe that if you were
in the White House, with a
Republican Congress, an era of
responsibility would be ushered in.
That we really would see prosperity
with a purpose, and that the American
dream would reach every willing
heart.
So as things undoubtedly continue
to go your way, and as you move clos
er to having the chance to bring honor
and dignity back to the office of the
president - please remember your
promise.
Please remember your promise
because Americans will. And keeping
it will take us that much closer to clos
ing the gap of hopelessness.
oi starvation or malnutrition right here
in Lincoln last year. Smack-dab in the
middle of the Heartland, not in some
thriving metropolis with walls and
ghettos.
I guess it just strikes me that clos
ing the gap of hope in our tom nation
is a monumental task.
And it strikes me that if our
national leaders, our public servants,
keep sight of that task, it is achievable.
Tears of relief welled in my eyes
when you explained how the
Republican Party must help to usher
in an era of responsibility.
The tears were for the lost people
of my generation who believe that
self-fulfillment will come by living
for the moment. The relief was hear
ing you say you were willing to draw a
moral line. In the wake of my ideal
ism, Governor, I found myself nod
JESSICA FLANAGAIN is a senior English and philosophy major and a Daily Nebraskan columnist.
Out of Africa
■ 7 _ \
A wealth of experiences rises from cross-cultural adventures
my ancestors conquered the Plains
with, I managed to make it to London
Heathrow airport in time for my next
flight,
Twelve more tedious hours later,
our descent began into the East
Africa Rift Valley, the cradle of
mankind.
I looked out the window with a
childish fascination at the geographic
intricacies interlaced before me. I saw
Lake Victoria surrounded by a plush
green thickness, followed by the his
toric and world-famous Masai Mara
and the Serengeti, the home of per
haps the largest population of ungu
lates in the world.
For a moment, I thought I could
see the 2 million wildebeest making
their semi-annual migration. Ahead,
there appeared to be a crater from a
giant meteor that landed in some pre
historic era.
Later I discovered that that crater
was in fact theNgorogoro Caldera,
the most lush and populous game
reserve in the world, which holds
25,000 large mammals within a 16
mile diameter, elevated caldera ridge.
The beauty and awe of the Rift
Valley from 30,000 feet was just what
I needed to provide tranquillity and
peace of mind after my disenchant
ment with the Brits.
When we landed at Dar es Salaam
International Airport, in Tanzania, I
could feel the anxiety setting in again.
I was about to come face to face with
Africa in every form possible.
I didn’t have any expectations, so
I couldn’t be let down. I was worried,
curious, yet proud and confident.
Having barely lived outside of the
«
The only thing I brought with me was an
open mind and lots of energy. I was ecstatic
to see so many potential adventures
to apply my rambunctious,
aloof tendencies toward
Midwest (like most of my fellow
Nebraskans I’m sure), I couldn’t
imagine what a transition this would
be.
Would I have culture shock?
What the heck is culture shock, any
way? Nothing shocks me; I’m tough
as nails.
But what if I got malaria and
died? Who was going to tell my
mom? London didn’t have public
bathrooms. How did they use the
bathroom here? Were there going to
be lions and hyenas outside the air
port waiting to kill me?
Was there a war or something out
side and people starving to death
everywhere? My God, I was really in
the middle of nowhere.
Hey, these are reasonable ques
tions when you’re 20 years old, have
never left the Plains and suddenly
wake up in East Africa.
I didn’t quite feel like Dorothy
landing in Oz, although it was obvi
ous I wasn’t in Kansas anymore.
The heat overwhelmed me, but
the humidity was almost debilitating.
I made my way through customs, the
faces became darker and I went to
gather my bags.
The program I was on arranged
for somebody to pick me up at the
airport, and sure enough, there was
somebody. I took my travelers’
checks to the moneychanger and
bought my Tanzanian shillings.
“Sixty-five thousand shillings for
only 100 dollars! Holy schnikes, you
can really buy a lot with your money
in Africa!,” I thought.
I took my wad of bills, my bags,
my sweat-soaked clothes and
exhausted self to the Range Rover
waiting for us and off we went to the
university dormitories.
The ride to the school was mind
blowing. I felt like I needed eyes all
around my head to see all the amaz
ing things along the sides of the road.
Something I had only read about,
the Third World, materialized like a
Star Trek transporter before my very
eyes.
The informality and genuineness
of the people and their reality instant
ly gave meaning to what I was doing,
whatever I was doing. I didn’t have a
plan when I left; I didn’t know what I
was going to do or what I was going
DA VID BAKER is a senior sociology, anthropology and African studies major and a Daily Nebraskan columnist
Shawn DrapaiTDN
to find. *
The only thing I brought with me
was an open mind and lots of energy.
I was ecstatic to see so many potential
adventures to apply my rambunc
tious, aloof tendencies toward.
What I began discovering that day
was a land full of spirit and spice.
Despite the world of difference in
cultural orientation, the people wel
comed and accepted me unlike any
thing I’d ever experienced back home.
The hospitality and genuine
desire of the Tanzanians to teach me
their language and culture absolutely
made me feel embarrassed in com
parison to how guests are treated in
my own country and on my own cam
pus.
Over the next year, I studied
Swahili, African history and interna
tional relations.
I taught English, swimming, soci
ology and American history.
I traveled across five countries in
Southeast Africa, bought over 300
pounds of indigenous art (as deter
mined by the Tanzanian Postmaster)
made lifelong friends all over the
world, learned more than I had in the
- previous five years of my life com
bined, and yes, I did get malaria.
In the next series of my articles,
I’ll share some of the stories I accu
mulated over the year.
I ll explain how to do some of
these things yourself, even for the
most cross-culturally challenged and
sheltered.
And, more importantly, I’ll tell
you how to do it without getting sick,
robbed or disappointed. See you in
two weeks.