The Value of Obedience

The Value of Obedience

For most of us, learning to obey rules took place from the time we were able to comprehend directions and orders. When I was younger I learned about rules, and how if I didn’t obey them there were consequences. Back then I had rules from my parents like cleaning up my room or if I refused, my consequence would be not being able to go outside and play with my friends. Now that I’m older, I have rules from the government like not running a red light, or my consequence could be the death of myself, someone else, or both. Both of these scenarios fall into what is called the Value of Obedience. It is important for people to fully understand the importance of conforming to regulations in society because if they don’t, dangerous outcomes could be the result.

Obedience is a word that has strong meaning attached with it. When I hear the word obedient, I think of a catholic school student trying to be on their best behavior. Rules are put into place so that our society can run smoothly, without as many disruptions as possible. It is imperative for us to always try to do the “right” things in life so that you will not live with regrets. When I say right of course that is societies definition of what is right. So what happens when members of society choose not obey the laws that are set in place? Is it okay at this point to disregard the law for the sake of one’s personal beliefs? Or, is there something in us as citizens of society that makes us eager to please someone of authority?

I found the Milgram experiments very interesting. My guess is that this essential need to please an authority figure started when we were babies, and learned that these people have earned a certain level of respect. Also, when we were young we learned that if you were given an order by an authority figure, there are no questions involved. Now, I’m not saying that these people that took place in this experiment did not know right from wrong, or were morally challenged. My observation would be that they acted off of instinct, and did not have a chance to think the situation through thoroughly. But what is astonishing to me is why was this their instinct? Why did most of these “teachers” continue to obey the person of authority’s orders, when they knew someone was in pain? It is amazing to see how eager people are to please someone of authority, even if they are morally wrong. To know that there are people who will go along with something they believe is wrong or hurtful to another human being, makes me wonder if there any independent thinkers left in our society that that haven’t been brainwashed into what their religion, political party, or friends think is “right”.

I think back to how many times I have done something or reacted poorly to a situation because of peer pressure. It seems as if sometimes a person who is on a higher status then someone else would be a sort of authority figure; like fraternity members and prospective fraternity members. I think back to the documentary when the fraternity brothers made the prospective members drink gallons of water as a part of their ritual to induct new members in, and it turned fatal. It is obvious to me that college students are aware of the fact that too much water in ones system could be dangerous, but no one spoke up because it is something that has been done years before. It seemed that as though after the fraternity brothers were put in jail for their actions is when they thought about the consequences of their actions. Of course at this time it was too late for apologies because one’s life had been taken over a few careless moments. This simply shows me how our culture has moved away from the morals that we were raised with. If you see someone struggling, help him or her, or if you feel that something is not right, stand up and say something. Our society needs a new generation of independent thinkers, similar to those in the civil rights movement, who weren’t afraid to stand for something because they knew their stance was making a difference.

As much as I sometimes despise the government for my own personal beliefs, I have to admit that the laws they put into place to try to protect the people of our country are for good reasons. As more subjects become issues in this country, laws need to be set so that the people are protected and have some kind of moral code to live their lives by. Although most people will try to be decent citizens and live their lives by the government’s orders, others will take easy routes to accomplish what they want. These are the people that go against the value of obedience because they believe they wont get caught, or they have a nonchalant attitude about the authorities. Going a bit further, having disobedient citizens in our country is becoming costly. More prisons are being built house the every one in one hundred Americans that are incarcerated. Ultimately, not only does ones disobedient behavior affect them, but also it affects our country.

What Brings You Peace?

What Brings You Peace?

Shouting. Laughing. Singing. Stomping. Praising. These are a few instantaneous thoughts when I think about Sunday mornings. One of the best parts of my week is going to church. Not only to hear what the Reverend has to say, but to be in the presence of my fellow church members. When I walk into the church, there is an immediate sense of peace that calms my mind. It’s probably the people that pass by me with smiles on their faces. Or, it could be the soft music playing as I walk to find a seat in the sanctuary. It could also be the stained glass of the different scenes from the Bible, and of people that have sacrificed for me to have a better life. The glass is all different colors, with images people that look like they are from all over the world. There have to be over one hundred different stories on the glass. As I sit down in my usual section on the second floor balcony of the sanctuary, I look down and see the candles that are burning right by the altar. I concentrate on the flame that is swaying back and forth. It could be that flame puts me at ease.

Throughout the week, so many incidents, good and bad, occur throughout the city of Chicago as well as the world that causes me a bit of stress and anxiety. However, on Sunday mornings, I am able to go to a place where everything seems positive. Everyone, from the greeters when I walk into church, to the little old lady wearing her heels and large hat is so cheerful. The greeters stand right at the doors of the church, and hand me my bulletin when I walk in. They always greet me with a “hello”, “good morning”, “god bless you”, or how are you”. I enjoy this from the greeters as I walk in, because there are not too many places that I go throughout the week that have people standing at the door with kind words. Automatically, I am at home. There is always one woman, every Sunday, who sits behind the desk in the lobby of the church with white gloves and a smile. I never knew her name until one day I walked up to her and asked her what her job at the church was. She responded in a voice that I would never forget, “to make you feel at home, hunny”. From then on I knew the church was the place for me.

There are nothing but smiles, and hello’s everywhere I turn. I feel it is the best atmosphere for me to be in, especially right now. At this time, I am on my own, and trying to grow into a responsible adult. It is extremely easy to get caught up in foolish activities, especially in college. So when I attend church, it brings me back to what is really significant in life, and what I am here to do. It is always important to meet someone on Sundays. So when the pastor tells everyone to shake hands, and introduce themselves to the people around them, this is always easy for me. Myself and the other person shake hands, and exchange a few words. Then I do the same with about three other people. This is a good exercise for me as well with introducing myself to other people, and becoming comfortable with it.

More interesting than the church members, is the choir. There are over one hundred and fifty members in the choir every week. This is important in such a large congregation, because they need to be able to get everyone excited, and out of their seats. Every song whether, fast or slow, is so much fun. The choir director does a fantastic job with them. With every song selection, it always seems as if they are singing right to me. This is kind of like the reverend when he preaches, but in a musical way. From the man with the low baritone, to the woman with the high soprano voice, everyone in the choir touches me. Their voices touch me in a way that puts my mind at ease, and allows me to clear my thoughts. This is important for me to do when I attend church, especially when I have a million and one things always on my mind.

A few years ago, outside of the church after a service would have been a madhouse. A president-elect, and former member of the church would cause the church to be scrutinized in ways no one except for its members could image. I remember being in church and listening to pastor mention that the church had received bomb threats. I will never forget the hollers, and shouts from the people in the service of over one thousand people. I will never forget the looks on people faces sitting near me. Some stared with looks of fear, and others with anger in their eyes. I don’t know what face I had on at that moment. It was probably a look of confusion. Sitting next to my grandfather I looked at him hoping what the pastor was saying was not true. Hoping that I did not comprehend it right. Hoping and waiting for him to give me some kind of facial expression that would say its alright, but he didn’t. Instead he kept his eyes focused on the pastor. All of these incidents made me think of one thing, and that was how strong our congregation was. No matter what was said or happened no one did anything irrational or absurd; and to me that is where I get my inner peace.

I remember walking in late one Sunday after the service had started, or maybe I was going to the bathroom during service? I can’t recall. However, there was a man walking in the lobby of the sanctuary with a top hat, and a long trench coat on. He looked more out of place than ever, because for one everyone knows hats are not allowed in churches. It was a news reporter. I guess they are not to be allowed in church because within seconds he was escorted off of the premises by security. These types of incidents went on for weeks. It didn’t get better quickly, but it eventually did. Thorough out all of these incidents I was able to see first hand what the word “peace” really is and what a “peaceful” environment is as well. These words are not just something that is “soothing”, or holding up two fingers. It is how calm you are when you are put to the test. When something could be forcing you to become stressed, or maybe give in to a fight, how do you hold your ground? I held mine by remembering that staying clam is better than becoming flustered in any situation.

In this I personally learned two things, unity and how the media works. The first lesson I learned was how important it is to stick together in each other’s time of need. It was a great lesson in how in order to prevail, there has to be unity, and everyone has to work together and be strong. I also learned how nasty the media could be. I saw first hand how manipulative they could be, and sadly how much power over people they had. Knowing that I was going into some aspect of the media industry, it became evident then that whatever it was that these journalists were doing, I wanted no part of.

For me church has been an interesting place for me to learn and grow. I learned things from here that my schools weren’t allowed to teach me. I learned life lessons, as well as biblical lessons. I’ve met all types of different people from different walks of life. I’ve found a place myself that I know I can come to if I need a boost of positive energy. For me this has become a sort of outlet if I ever needed it. From church, I really know and understand what peace really is. From this, I now know more about myself. I am appreciative that I have been exposed to a church atmosphere where I am allowed to express myself.

Growing Pains

Growing Pains

“So you’re telling me, you told your teacher you got amnesia, and that’s why you didn’t complete your homework”? My mom was so strict when it came to my education. She always wanted to be in the know. Know what’s going on in class, before class, and even when I get home from school. So I guess you can imagine her reaction when my teacher, Mrs. Newman, called her to let her know I was the only kid in my class who had not done the homework. She was even more disappointed in my excuse that I had fallen and bumped my head (which is what caused the amnesia), and that I slept the whole night. Also, I told my teacher that I dreamt that I was in a locked room with zombies, who were about to attack me over a hard- boiled egg.

My mother was furious. “Well I guess you just love me being detective mom, huh Aubrey”? she said to me. “Every time I give you an inch, you take a mile. This time I want to know every assignment, and when it’s due . . . Ugh! All of these tall tales; I don’t know what to do with you. This is just like last weekend when I asked you how my closet got so messy, and you said Jr. and a few women aliens invaded it for a makeover. I am SICK OF THIS AUBREY”! My mother started to walk out of the kitchen so her voice got very faint, but I heard her say “You are going to be a little soldier around here. No cell phone, or sleepovers until I see some improvement”!

This is just great! I hate when my mom is mad at me over things like school, when I really feel like I’m not able to do the work like the other kids. See, my family kind of goes like this… My mom, Cathy is a nurse. She works from seven at night, all the way until four the next morning. I never see her, because when I come home from school, she’s either resting, or out running errands. I never really knew my daddy. I know his name’s Joe, and he lives all the way in Duluth, Georgia. He’s a big time doctor down there, or something. He’s got a lotta money and a lotta kids. I guess he gives all his other kids money cuz I never get a dime. But my mom says we don’t need his dimes, we got all the dimes we need. I know way more about him, and all the other shenanigans that go on in our family because I hear my mom on the phone with my aunt Crystal all the time. They gossip all night long about everything. I believe I know a secret or two about just about everyone in my family, including my mom.

All of the other kids at school have at least one parent that’s at home waiting for them when they get out of school. But not me. I have to come home and take care of my sick grandmother. She’s got something my mom calls advancing Alzheimer’s. I don’t even think she remembers my mom. Sometimes I catch her in the bathroom crying. I know its cuz of grandma, so I just let her be. She hates when I see her crying. Grandma knows me though. She always calls my name when she needs something.

So I pretty much look after myself, and I like it that way. Some of my friends at school have parents that know everything they do. But not me. I would say I’m more mature then the other kids in the sixth grade. It’s just my pet monkey, Jr. and me. I got him for my eleventh birthday, and he’s been my best friend ever since. And this all brings me back to school. I really like school, I really do! But I just don’t get it sometimes. I don’t think I’m as smart as the other kids. And when I try to go to my mom for help she’s either sleep or at work. And I can’t even THINK about going to Mrs. Newman. She’s so fed up with me cuz I lie to her all the time. She told me my nose was gonna grow from all my lies…. I wonder if it’s true? I stare in the mirror every night.

The next morning my mom woke me up early for school. She said she wanted to talk to me about the day before. Before she could speak, I told her I was sorry, and was gonna do better in school, even though I really hadn’t planned on it. “No baby” my mom said. “I am sorry. I am really, really sorry. I’m sorry for a few things. First thing is I’m sorry for coming down on you so hard. I know I’m not always around to help you with your homework, or with anything for that matter”. My mom quickly turned away, and ran to the paper towel holder. She came back with two pieces. She tried offering me one to make it seem like she wasn’t the only one who needed one. “I’m also sorry for your father baby, and the way he chose to live his life; without you. This may be too much for you to understand right now but this was always one of my fears. When I was pregnant with you, I feared your father walking out on us. Not being there for you more importantly. I knew being a teenage mother would have its challenges, but your father leaving us as soon as you were born was not what I had expected. I just NEED to let you know it’s not your fault baby. None of this is your fault. And I don’t know about the other kids parents at school, but I love you more than two parents together could. I need you to work with me though Aubrey, please”! I wanted to cry with my mom to let her know I cared, but I couldn’t find the tears. I’ve never been real emotional. So I gave her a hug and a kiss and said, “I will mama”. “And what daddy did to us is not your fault”. I left the kitchen and went to my room to get ready for school.

After school, I decided to keep my grandmother company. All she does is lie in bed and watch old episodes of the Golden Girls. We watched a whole five episodes together before she even spoke one word to me. “It is important that you do well in school, Aubrey”, my grandmother said. She could barely make out her words so it was important for me to listen carefully so I could fully understand her. “I hear you ‘round here arguing with ya mama about getting your work done. Doing well in school is one of the best things you can do for yourself. It is gonna be what determines what you are when you grow up. Stop with the excuses Aubrey. Stop giving your teacher and ya mama a hard time. Put forward your best effort. It’s called growing pains, Aubrey”. My grandma could hardly get out the “p” sound in pains, so she stuttered until she could get it out. “It’s when you don’t wanna grow up and act like the adult you’re becoming, but you have to”. I’ve never really been a crier, but those words from my ailing grandma brought me to tears. I don’t want my grandma’s last memories of me to be bad ones. I responded with a quick, “I will do better grandma, promise”, gave her a hug and kiss, and quietly left the room.

When I got to my room, Jr., was sitting on my bed next to my box of tissue from the bathroom. “You’re the only one I can really count on Jr., that’s why you’re my best….” Ringggggggggggggggg The phone rang as soon as I sat down. This always happens. “Hello” I say when I answer the phone. “Cathy! Cathy!”, the angry voice on the other end said. “Girl don’t make me come down there and make things real ugly for you and the girl. You never listened; this is why we’re not together now. I don’t have time for this bullshit. My mother wants to see all of her grandkids this Thanksgiving. After that you can have her back. I don’t wanna see her anyway. But at least let her see her other grandmother that she’s never met”. My father really doesn’t know anything about me if he can’t even tell the difference between an eleven year old and a thirty year olds voice. “Dad”, I trembled as I tried to find the strength to speak a word that I had never said to anyone before. “This is Aubrey”. I felt my hand began to sweat and my stomach started to feel funny like it had to throw up. “Heyyyyyyyy baby girl”, he said shockingly. “I was looking for ya mama, is she there”? “No. No dad she’s not”, I said. “And no. No, I wont be making a special trip alllll the way to Georgia to spend time with a family that hates my mama and me”. My father interrupted, “Wait baby it’s not like that. I didn’t mean anything I said I was just angry”. “I know all about your ANGER dad” I replied. “Anger that has kept you from seeing me, taking care of me, helping me and my mama out since the day I was born. I know about that anger. We don’t need anything from you now though. Mama and me doing just fine. And you don’t need anything from us. Stop calling here trynna upset my mama”, I screamed as a slammed the phone down on the receiver. Honestly I really can’t remember if I slammed it or it fell out of my sweaty trembling hands. Either way I hoped I had gotten rid of my “daddy” for good. Me and Jr. hugged each other for about five minutes, then went downstairs to get him a snack while I started my homework.

“And that’s called growing pains. And that was my grandma’s last words to me before she passed away. She told me that no matter what I did, I always needed to do my best. And that was the most influential person I knew, Thank you”. The class clapped, and Mrs. Newman was at her desk patting her eye down with a tissue. She said that my speech bought her to tears, and she was happy I completed the assignment. I told her that I only did it cuz my grandma was watching down on me with Jesus, and those are two people I do not want to disappoint. Mrs. Newman laughed as I walked away, and took my seat in the back of the class by the window.