Daughters of the American Revolution

Daughters of the American Revolution:  a patriotic society of women descended from Americans of the Revolutionary period, organized in 1890

I will receive no applause, acclamation, nor much readership by sharing this. Nonetheless, I will do it to promote the sanity of our species and grant peace on Earth a chance to give goodwill to men.

No one is special.

When we started believing some people were special, it opened the Pandora’s box brought about by the belief in equality. For if all men are created equal, and we have found some men to be special, therefore, aren’t all men (and women) special?

From that position, we developed the doctrine of uniqueness—“there’s no one exactly like me.”

“I am a daughter of the American Revolution…”

…which actually  means that many generations back, your great-great-great-great grandmother had sexual intercourse with a revolutionary man who was about to be hung by the British Empire.

Because that particular revolution panned out pretty well, I am allowed to feel proud of my old Grandma, and even to assert that I have maintained a drop or two of “special blood” through the process.

Let us not even consider the reality of mutations.

Because a study of DNA immediately informs us that talents, character and attributes are not transferable in entirely through the double-helix.

But as long as we can convince ourselves that we’re special, we might just feel a little better about how mediocre our lives have seemingly turned out to be.

Of course, I’m not nearly as special if you’re special, too.

A debate on who or what might be more special seems childish. So to be special, I must insist that you are ordinary, or even cursed by birth.

So it may appear noble to be a Daughter of the American Revolution, but since you weren’t there, didn’t sew any new flags, or put bandages on amputated limbs, you must understand that it just doesn’t mean shit.


Anderson, Marion

dictionary with letter A

Anderson, Marion: (1888-1959): U.S. Opera singer initially barred from giving concerts in the United States because of racial discrimination. She gained international success and became the first black singer to perform at the Metropolitan Opera in New York City.

It is the great lie that leads to the perpetual delusion: a pound of effort brings a pound of result.

This delusion has created a society of expectant, demanding and frustrated participants who spend more time complaining about the rejection of their efforts than they do devising more intelligent angles.

When I see the definition of a pioneer like Marion, it nearly brings tears to my eyes. Not only did this woman have to go through all of the training, education, struggles, auditions and vocal exercises to become an adept opera singer, equal to those around her, but because she was a woman and had dark skin, she had to exceed the quality of her peers.

Hers was a life that required one hundred pounds of effort for every one pound of result.

I am both humbled and encouraged by such a story.

  • Humbled because I realize how unwilling I am to endure tribulation and difficulty to acquire what I perceive to be my just share.
  • But I am also encouraged that there is within the human heart the passion and energy to overcome persecution and dispel bigotry through the display of excellence.

The Daughters of the American Revolution refused to let her sing at their convention because she was black. Eleanor Roosevelt scheduled her to perform on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. It was a much better gig.

But you see, sometimes you must be willing to endure the loss of a present possibility to gain a future bonanza.

What caused Marion to do that? What gave this woman the spunk and spiritual moxie to ignore the ignorance around her and sing like a bird?

I don’t know.

But I’m glad it’s not magic. I’m glad it’s not limited to the black race or just to women.

It is available to anyone who is ready to shed the delusion of equality and persevere with great energy … by continuing to do what we do when others say we don’t.


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Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix