MOVING ON.....2024

A Note From The Author: Jacqueline E. Hughes

I am so happy to welcome in the new year, 2024!!! My Blog is changing-up a bit....mainly because I am evolving. Travel will always take precedence in my life and, my journeys will be shared with you. This 2024 version will offer a variety of new stories and personal ideas, as well. This is all about having fun and enjoying this Beautiful Journey called......Life!!!

Thursday, January 13, 2022

HOW DO YOU WANT TO BE REMEMBERED?

 


A series of essays….



FLOURISH LIKE A TREE AND
GROW BIGGER, STRONGER, BETTER 
AS YOU DANCE INTO YOUR FUTURE…

                                        Courtesy of Darius Bashar


….as seen through my eyes!




By: Jacqueline E Hughes


Have you ever asked yourself how you would like to be remembered by those people whom you have touched here on earth in one way or another throughout the years? I’m certain there are many of you who believe this is a silly question based on the fact that it really wouldn’t matter considering you might never truly know or care about it one way or another after you’ve passed on. At any rate, some of you may care and, if you do, these reflections are for you.


From little children on most of us are taught how to be polite, coordinate our outfits for school, groom our hair, brush our teeth and keep them healthy and white, smile don’t frown, and, in general…look and do our very best in this lifetime. The world is constantly looking at us and judging us on the outside believing that our human veneer should, generally, correspond with our core values. 


I think about the cartoons I’d watch on Saturday mornings as a child and remember, specifically, the one about the wolf in sheep’s clothing. This concept of skullduggery was ingrained within my memory for years to follow and led me to mistrust the obvious and research the unknown before making any final decisions about how to react to strangers and many questionable circumstances. But, it made me wary about others even more than I probably should have been. Innocence be damned; the joy and delight of spontaneous discovery in new faces and situations was left dormant for a few years.


The goodness and kindness of others began to far outweigh any negativity around the age of six or seven after entering my second (with six more to follow before my eighth grade year) parochial elementary school. With dad having to relocate often for his job, we moved with him and my brothers and I became dependent upon the Catholic nuns and new friendships we made along with each one of our moves. 


Fortunately, the schools I attended offered stimulating diversity with students from various regions of the United States in attendance. This is when my love for travel reached new heights. Friendships with these students, conversations about their lifestyles, culture, and customs, gave me purpose and wanting more. 


Throughout my first fifteen years of living, skin color did not impact my life. I understood that all human beings are created equal in every sense of the word. And, it wasn’t until the mid to late ‘60’s that it became apparent that not everyone felt this way.


My heroes became authors who wrote about and described other lands and their people, teachers and professors who went far and beyond a traditional schedule or routine, foreign students (especially at university) who shared their world with fellow students, and politicians willing to take that extra step required to draw everyone together and make the world a better place for all! This group of mine included activists, singing artists, musicians, and so many more. It was an age that stimulated minds, tempted fragile egos, and taught us the importance of diversity in all of its shapes and forms. 


Harper Lee. D. H. Lawrence. Henry Miller. V. S. Naipaul. Robert Ruark. Doris Lessing. Abbie Hoffman. Cesar Chavez. Gloria Steinem. Bob Dylan. Joan Baez. Richie Havens. 


The more I read, the more specifics I learned and yearned for.


The 1963 novel, The Feminine Mystique, by Betty Friedan introduced many young women and housewives to the possibilities of living a fuller, more creative life inside and outside of the home. The book became a battle cry for young women all over the western world and permanently transformed the social fabric of the United States and countries around the world. 


Many of us were stunned to learn about the ‘lack of response’ decision by the Supreme Court of the United States regarding the Texas abortion law in December of 2021 and the killing of Roe v. Wade in Texas in the process. After hearing the court’s weak  arguments on the constitutionality of the Mississippi abortion  law shortly afterwards, I wrote my own poem in rebuttal to these dangerous decisions made by this conservative court:


             Sisterhood Is Powerful

                          By Jacqueline E Hughes


I made it out of bed this morning and

stepped into a time capsule. It felt like I was 

eighteen again. I dressed under the scrutiny 

of Betty Friedan, Gloria Steinem, Toni Cade, and 

“Battling Bella” Abzug. It felt like I was eighteen 

again. We (women) were spitting out slogans

like “Sisterhood is Powerful.” Fighting for 

equality and the right to be free. It felt like I was 

eighteen again. Ideals we fought for as 

young women were dissolving. Sugar in 

the waters of subjugation.


“The government does not belong in our 

bedrooms.” “My body, my choice.” It felt like 

I was eighteen again. Discovering that men are 

oppressors; understanding that women are, too.

Always fighting for what should have already 

been ours: positive self-image, respect, equality. 

I felt like I was eighteen again. So tired of 

making coffee, not policy. It was the Freedom Trash

Can that collected our bras. I felt like I was 

eighteen again. Enslaved within skin colored black,

white, brown, red, yellow. Charging forward, the 

Staff of Determination clenched tightly in our hands.


Why would we stand down, give up, go home unsatisfied after all of these years? I feel like I am eighteen again. Making the world a better place for all generations. Believing in justice. I feel like I am eighteen again. Surviving the stench of the current political fervor that’s bent on dismantling the past. This, too, shall pass. Good people, women and men, continue to lead, wisely. And one day, I know, our struggles will be…otherwise. 



We were so proud to have lived in the colorful Sixties: the decade of the pill, Black Power, the Stonewall riots, Vietnam, and Flower Power. “It was the decade that The Beatles got bigger than Jesus!” It launched second wave feminism, and the time when pro-choice found its voice. We became the ‘Baby Boomer Generation’ who was rebellious, experimental, and loaded with self-confidence. Sadly, we were made to witness major political assassinations that, through the death of our heroes, brought about social change. 


President John Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Senator Robert Kennedy, and many more had no choice in their final legacy once their productivity was so abruptly taken from them. But, their life stories do live on through the work they unselfishly accomplished while living a shortened but generous life, as well as through their spouses and children determined to keep their memory (legacy) alive. For the most part, they will be remembered for the goodness they espoused during their time here on earth.


If our own life is slated to be taken away as abruptly, how would we be remembered by those we leave behind? If we are lucky enough to live a healthy life long into our 90’s or even 100’s, will we be happy that we’ve traveled enough, worked hard enough, helped others less fortunate than ourselves, and made good changes in this world that reflect a better life for ourselves and others? How will we be remembered after time spent among our fellow human beings?


If we are satisfied with the answers to all of the above questions, facing our own death should not bother us, otherwise. Preparing for the inevitable by living a lifestyle worthy of ourselves and being human along the way is a noble way of living. We should strive for and humbly appreciate being forever remembered in this way.





“The scholar fashioned wings
of his design
and leapt from the citadel,
drifting amid radiance
toward injury and fame.
What bondage is weight?
Even in burial
we ascend.”














Copyright © 2022 by Jacqueline E Hughes

All rights reserved









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