Thoughts on Raif Badawi & the Nobel Peace Prize

Posted on by Mark Aldrich

The name of the winner of the 2015 Nobel Peace Prize will be announced at 11:00 a.m. on Friday, October 9. That is 11:00 a.m. in Oslo, Norway, which is … well, really very early in the morning in Goshen, New York, time. (5:00 a.m. EST, in case you want to know.) I hope to be tuning in at that time, and I hope to hear one name in particular: Raif Badawi, a 31-year-old writer and activist from Saudi Arabia who sits in a Saudi prison as a result of his writing. He was convicted of “insulting” his nation’s religion in his writings.

If his name is spoken on Friday morning in Oslo, that does not mean the fight has been won for Raif Badawi, his wife and family, or his many supporters around the world, as he still is in prison and most likely will not be allowed to leave his prison cell or his country to collect the medallion. He also faces 19 more sessions with a whip, as his prison sentence of 10 years includes 1000 lashes with a cane.
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Some Thoughts on Freedom of Speech

Posted on by Mark Aldrich

In an ideal world, there would be no need for the phrase, “In an ideal world.”

We do not reside in an ideal world.
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A Memory Salad

Posted on by Mark Aldrich

The child has few memories, so those he has are detailed.

We were in my hometown for some reason one summer Sunday afternoon a couple years ago and I said to my girlfriend that I wanted to show her where I grew up. (As if I have.) We drove down roads I used to bike on, walk on. I grew up in the suburbs, in upstate New York, in the 1970s and ’80s, a neighborhood without sidewalks, with kids biking across their neighbors’ lawns (well, I did) without fear of criticism. I remembered knowing which houses had dogs that were poorly restrained (avoid those lawns or find a new speed in my pumping little legs) and which houses were simply scary for reasons no one could explain but everyone knew which houses simply seemed scary.

(Years later, in high school, I was fundraising or campaigning for something and I dared, out of my OCD-ish sense-need to knock on every door, I knocked on the door of one of the houses that I always thought was scary. The owner was friendly and nice as could be. I felt like I had discovered something.)
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