I am a white, heterosexual male of 56 years who now realizes I am a dinosaur. I have been married to the same woman for 30 years and two of our three grown children have graduated from college while the third attends. Somehow, we have managed to save enough over the years to pay for their tuition as well as the tuition for people in this state illegally.
I do not abuse my wife except for the occasional loud fart. My alcohol consumption consists of one ice cold beer with my dinner. You won't find a criminal record attached to my name and I have recently retired after a thirty year career in public education. That should be just enough to make me nearly extinct. At the very least, I deserve placement on the Endangered Species list.
You see, today, it means nothing to be a white, middle aged heterosexual male in a stable marriage with financial security. If I was gay, I'd be set because in the process of my becoming endangered, I have seen same sex marriage legalized, Ellen DeGeneres dance and talk her way into our living rooms, and Chaz Bono likely to become the next face chiseled on to Mount Rushmore.
I do not mean to bash gay people. I am just lamenting the loss of my time and place in American society.
Once, when I was the Associated Student Body Director at a local school, I was told that as part of my job, I was responsible for the recognition of "certain groups" and their contribution to American society during the morning announcements. It began with Hispanic History month in which most of those recognized were never American citizens but none the less, they were on the list with a brief bio to read to the middle school students.
Next up were famous American women, all of whom were white. They included the likes of Helen Keller, Amelia Erhard, and of course Madonna. Fortunately, this was pre-Snooki or I might have had do dedicate an entire month to the women of reality television.
We then moved on to Black history month, which I noticed was February. No one complained they were given the shortest month of the year but then the announcements were filled will bios on the great works of people like Kobe Bryant, Richard Pryor, and Huey Newton. I bet, if it had been March with its 31 days, I would have been talking about Urkle. Fortunately, there was no White American Male History Month or I might have been left talking about the Elvis Presley's, Anthony Weiner's, or Pee Wee Herman's of the nation.
What I am trying to say is we have yet to get to the point where we are just Americans. "American" is all too often prefaced with words like, African, Hispanic, Gay, or my favorite, Ugly. Rodney King, who some day may be recognized as a great African American, once asked, "Can't we all just get along?" I'd like to add to that and ask, "Can't we all just be Americans?"