So much, so little.

I journal and as far as I can tell it all began April 12, 1992. It was Palm Sunday or so I recorded.

Sunday, April 12, 1992

Palm Sunday

On this inaugural passage I would like to state the objectives. This journal is to serve as a diary, a record of thoughts and feelings so that I may look back on them for remembrance and to learn from the error of my ways. I plan to note here the prevailing attitudes of both myself and the people around me on a national, local and personal belief. I hope that I will be able to speak clearly to the pages. For the true inner feeling of my being shall only be forgotten if not noted. And so with these objectives put forward, I shall begin.

Beau Wright, Chinese Silk Bound Journal 1992-1995

That first entry told of a night time trip into Washington DC to smell the Cherry Blossoms with my girlfriend, Gigi. We were both exhausted after our junior prom and the ceremony in which my Catholic high school presented class rings. Thinking about the Vietnam War Memorial inspired me to rant about the United States’ recent adventure in Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and Iraq. “Who really believes that we rescued Kuwait to restore a Democratic nation?” I write about my heartbreak for the Kurds of Northern Iraq, left to be butchered by Iraqi regime of Saddam Hussein and my disappointment that the United States had done nothing to restore order in Haiti. The entry ends with the realization that the pageantry of Catholic Easter had made no impression on my spirituality.

Who wrote this? Who was this seventeen year old kid strolling through the Tidal Basin with his girlfriend? Was I really that aware about Iraq, Haiti? I remember being proud of how quickly we dismantled Saddam, had my patriotic enthusiasm already been swept away? I often wonder how much I can expect my students to know about government and current events, but judging by this first passage I knew, or thought I knew, more than I remember.

And so it began, 27 years ago.

Published by Wrightaction

Humility-a trait that struggles to find a home in the twenty first century.

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