Happily Hippie-American

ABOUT ME, WHY I WROTE HAPPILY HIPPIE-AMERICAN
 

     There are two reasons:

     The first is that I would like to change my society, my nation and the world for the better. I am convinced that one way to do this, something that needs doing, is what we might call the liberation of what I call Hippie-America. First, every cultural formation has a right to life, provided it respects the rights of others. It’s called freedom. And when in Chapter Eight I cover the many accomplishments of Hippie culture, its many contributions to the world, it should become clear that Hippie culture should be encouraged and respected, not vilified and persecuted. 

     That’s important because an injury to one is an injury to all; further, when outgroups court social respectability, it benefits all. A movement or organization attuned to the latter will create a better America and a better world. 

     Then, there’s a personal reason: I was the victim of an anti-Hippie hate crime, and I believe this has helped set me on the path I’m taking. I was in my early twenties, walking along a sidewalk on a busy street on my midwestern college campus. I was visibly Hippie, with long hair, a beard and wire-rim glasses, and I was walking with another Hippie-looking male. I was closest to the street. Suddenly, miraculously, my glasses left my face. It was baffling, and then a split second later, I heard something bounce off the brick retaining wall on the other side of the sidewalk. Then, it bounced into the street—a golf ball! Some local, probably rural, kids had come into town to, yes, throw golf balls at Hippies from their car. The one they’d thrown at me had missed my face by a fraction; the ball had collided with the very front side of my glasses, where the bow met the frame, and swept them off my face. Had the ball flown an inch to the right, I could’ve been maimed, blinded even killed. 

When people try to tell me that social equality for Hippie-Americans, respect for their human rights, is a political “distraction,” that Hippie-identity issues aren’t really important, I am here to tell you: it was important enough for some young bullies, directed by the powers-that-be, to try to badly hurt or kill me. Don’t try to tell me that’s not important; don’t try to erase my humanity or my human rights. And on a larger level, let’s recognize that Hippie-America exists and start treating its members with the respect they deserve.