Witt's End

I’ll just say it. I miss the Army. It’s still hard to think about sometimes. It’s crazy that I feel this way.  You get your DD-214 and your free. The moment you were waiting for your entire enlistment. It's there. The negative is over. And there is hardships and negativity to service.  There were times that were tough physically. Some of the hardest outside of sports in my life. There were days that were mentally straining, the only things harder were the mission I served at a younger age. There were times without family and loved ones, that got harder the longer I served and the more my family grew.  Those were the things that were "hard" that recruiters and people that served warned me about. They were the aspects that you anticipate. There were parts they don't tell you. The parts that were rare. The ostracism that comes from not drinking. The power that corrupt NCOs and officers can wield. How dark racism can be to witness. The devastation of sexual harassment and

I have actually spent a significant amount of time researching whether there is systemic racism and what impact implicit bias plays into that. I’m currently looking at the role of implicit bias in medicine, law enforcement, and other sectors of society. Systemic racism is often wrongly interpreted as an accusation that everyone in the system is racist. In fact, systemic racism means almost the opposite. It means that we have systems and institutions that produce racially disparate outcomes, regardless of the intentions of the people who work within them. With that in mind,I began looking at this topic after Pres Oaks talk last October. After beginning I found there was a lot more to uncover. Let me go study by study, legal case by legal case, of a portion of my research. You say look at the evidence. This is what I have found over the past 6.5 months. First real demonstrable case studies involving housing: Sept 24 2015: Hudson City Savings Bank settled for $33 million for avoiding mort

June 27th 2021 The screaming inside never reaches my lips I don't know how to get them there Words Lyrics My heart is pouring them out My brain barely keeps up I thought age would quiet them They just got more complex The notes my fingers can't play The songs I don't know how to sing It's about time I figured out how ------------------------ Usually I don't write commentary on poetry. But lately I've felt so many ideas that are slipping through my mind like water through my fingers. I catch them. I only hope they impart what they are supposed to, and that I catch what I'm supposed to. But it's frustrating when my brain, and my heart, can articulate things that my voice and my pen can't. When my thoughts are so fleeting that I can't express them. 

177 years ago today was the death of Joseph and Hyrum Smith. It occurred June 27th 1844. Their martyrdom ended a life of service, dedication, and faithfulness in the light of some of the greatest hardships. Together they endured the death of children, a spouse, tar and feathering, beatings, imprisonment, isolation, and the seemingly continual loss of home. Today I would like to reflect on the accomplishment of Joseph, the prophet. During his lifetime he brought about the translation of the Book of Mormon, was chosen to receive the restoration of the priesthood, and reestablished Christ's church on this earth. Christ told us that "by their fruits ye shall know them." I think he brought forth fruit that has benefited my life to this day. I am astounded by him. Both as a man, and for the office I truly believe he held. I'm in awe at the trials he faced.  Now I know a lot of people have different conclusions of the man I'm lauding. Some believe him to be a charlatan.