Union des Singes Apprivoise:Growing up American

In 1977 my folks packed up my 3 siblings and I am moved from the Bay Area to Mali, in the heart of west Africa. My father had taken the position of Regional Security Officer for the region and would be based in Bamako the capitol. To move to Africa he gave up his job as body guard with the Secret Service, his work had been mostly for foreign dignitaries visiting the US : Imelda Marcos, Golda Meir, the prime minister of Australia. I believe my father's only employer, besides the pulp mill that he worked at as a high school graduate and some teaching positions while he was in school, was the US Government. He went into the Air Force, then the Peace Corps, then taught, then Secret Service, State Department. He was a career servant to the American people and he always made very clear to us that we were representatives of our nation of birth. My father had immense pride in his family and his roots. He was proud that he came from the earth, that his family was farmers and people that worked with their hands. He was also proud that he didn't have to, but that never let him forget his obligation to where he came from, and who he represented when he sat at the table of a foreign host. America needs to be a beacon of hope. America needs to be a leader. America needs to be the American Dream. America is Civilization.

These are things my parents taught their kids. They engrained these things into us. They operate in me like an extra innard. These are the organ of my guilt at what is happening to America under this regime. My father would have hated the son so much more than he hated his godforsaken father.