If I Changed Their Nationalities, Would You Care About Their Murders?

"As Americans mourned in shock and disbelief, more dead bodies were recovered Tuesday from the site of a massive Islamic State suicide bombing this weekend in Washington, D.C., bringing the death toll to 175, officials said.

The staggering figure — the worst bombing in 15 years since 9/11 — has cast a pall on the Independence Day weekend.

An Islamic State suicide bomber struck D.C.'s bustling commercial area of Georgetown in the early hours on Sunday, when many residents were spending the night out, before the start of Fourth of July celebrations."

Have you heard of this story? How would you react to this story? Anger? Sadness? Disbelief? Why? Because lives were lost or because American lives were lost?

You may not know this, because the media has hardly covered this particular terror attack, but 175 people died this weekend in a terror attack. Except it wasn't in D.C., but in Baghdad. I took the lead paragraphs from this ABC News story, and changed the location and holiday.

Why is this not front page news? Let's try another story. Maybe you'll recognize this one.

"A series of deadly explosions tore through crowds at the LAX international airport in Los Angeles on Tuesday evening, leaving at least 41 people dead and scores more injured in an attack officials blamed on the Islamic State terror group.

Shortly before the blasts, assailants armed with AK-47 rifles became involved in a firefight with security and police near the airport’s x-ray security checkpoint.

At least two of the gunmen then detonated what are believed to have been suicide bombs. Three attackers died on the scene, said President Barack Obama."

Surely you read this story right? No? Well, maybe it's because this attack actually happened in Istanbul, not L.A. Let's try another.

"By the time the 10-hour siege was over Saturday inside a restaurant in London, 22 people — plus six terrorists — were dead in a bloody attack in which 20 people unable to quote from the Quran were pulled aside and hacked or knifed to death.

The carnage ended when British commandos stormed the Holey Artisan Bakery, an eatery popular with foreigners in London's diplomatic zone, and rescued 13 hostages.

Police Lt. Col. James White said six assailants were gunned down in the raid. Two police officers were killed in the early stages of the takeover."

I would bet not one of your friends tweeted this story about the attack in Dhaka, Bangladesh because it was in Asia, not Europe. Why is that? Why do we change our Facebook profile pictures to the French flag and use hashtags like #WeAreOrlando when terror attacks happen in Western Europe or America? I am in no way downplaying the grief we feel toward lives lost in the Paris and Florida attacks. We should grieve. Innocent lives were lost in a senseless, hateful manner. But innocent lives were also lost in a senseless, hateful manner in Saudi Arabia, Bangladesh, Afghanistan and Turkey in the last week alone.

If #AllLivesMatter (and I believe they do), then why is it that the people who flippantly throw that hashtag around on a regular basis didn't bat an eye to the 242 lives lost in the last week? Is it because we can relate to American lives more than foreign lives? Possibly. Is it because we learned French in school instead of Arabic? Probably. Is it because the darker skin or hijabs are unfamiliar to us? Maybe. But just because someone looks different, or speaks a different language, or lives in a country we haven't visited, does not mean that their murder is any less devastating than the ones in Paris and Orlando.

Terrorists are not targeting Westerners. Terrorists are targeting the world. Now is a time to pray for our Asian and Middle Eastern friends who are grieving the loss of their loved ones. Now is the time to show terrorists that we care about every single life on this planet - no matter their ethnicity or nationality. Now is a time for unity toward the fight against terrorism.

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Saving Lives One Organ at a Time

“It was like being born at 27 years old.”

That is how Anna Anderson described receiving a kidney and pancreas double transplant 18 years ago in June 1997. Anderson suffered from juvenile diabetes since a child and needed new organs to survive and thrive.

“My mother always called me her little butterfly, because I was always in a cocoon, in a bubble. But when I received the transplant, I received my wings and began to fly,” Anderson said. “I was always trapped. I couldn’t do this, and I couldn’t do that. That’s when my life began, at age 27.”

While her new pancreas is still fighting off the diabetes, Anderson’s body has rejected the transplanted kidney. She must go to dialysis to function, and she is on the organ transplant waiting list again.

The last time she was on the waiting list for three years before she received a donation from a cadaver. She wrote a letter to the donor family to thank them for making the decision to donate their son’s organs.

“I thanked them for giving me the chance of life. On my side, I did cry for a while because I knew that somebody would have to pass in order for me to live,” she said. “It was hard for a while, but I thank God.”

Anderson said that without that first transplant, she would never have been able to see her nieces and nephews grow up. This time, Anderson has been on the waiting list for two years. For a moment, Anderson thought she would receive a transplant from a living donor. A high school classmate offered up her own kidney to save Anderson’s life, but unfortunately, the kidney was not a match. Anderson said she knows that everything – from her diagnosis, to her first transplant, to the failed kidney match – is making her a better person.

“Everything is on God’s plan, and I just go with whatever He’s ready to do. Just like now, I’m giving my testimony to whoever will listen, because ultimately it’s His story,” she said.

In his short life, 10-month-old Briggs Elliser has also been on the transplant waiting list multiple times. His mother Brittany Elliser said shortly after he was born, he was diagnosed with biliary atresia, a rare liver disease. Briggs got on the transplant waiting list on May 20, and had his first transplant on June 25. Almost immediately, Briggs rejected the new liver.

“We went to sleep that night thinking that we would have to do everything to make him comfortable. We were in complete shock,” Brittany said. “They then told us early that morning that they would relist him.”

Briggs received his second transplant six days later. Again, he rejected the organ.

“We didn’t get the third transplant until July 17. As soon as he got that one, everything clicked,” Brittany said.

Briggs Elliser received his third liver transplant on July 17, 2015.
Photo via Blessings for Briggs

Brittany said she felt she could finally stop holding her breath once her son successfully adapted to his new liver. He is behind his peers in reaching milestones, but Brittany said the doctors believe he will catch up.

“He’s recovering as good as he can be,” she said. “He’s normal in every other aspect.”

Both Brittany and Anderson said they could not have gotten through the transplant without faith in God, and the helpfulness of family, friends, nurses and doctors. Brittany created a Facebook page called “Blessings for Briggs” to ask for prayer requests. One post even reached 85 thousand people.

“It’s reassuring to know that that many people are praying for you,” she said.

Joey Boudreaux, Louisiana Organ Procurement Agency chief clinical officer, said that on the other side of the transplant, faith is also important. LOPA organizes all the logistics of transplants, and the staff also helps donor families in any way necessary. Many times, that includes calling donor families’ clergy to provide emotional and spiritual support. Boudreaux said that all major religions support organ donation.

“Our staff works closely with these different entities to make sure everyone is on the same page and that the family is supported,” Boudreaux said. “Even if they have not said yes to the opportunity to donate, we still provide support in any way we can.”

A person can only be an organ donor if a brain death occurs, Boudreaux said. At that point, the hospital’s doctor will inform the patient’s family of the brain death. After giving the family time to absorb the news, LOPA staff will then talk to the family about the opportunity of organ donation. Boudreaux said that besides saving other people’s lives, people should consider becoming organ donors because it helps families grieve properly.

“They become extended family to these recipients and their family, so that is to me just as impactful as saving lives. When you say ‘yes’ and that time comes, you’ll be able to extend a recipient’s life 20 or beyond years. Obviously, you can’t put a price tag on that,” he said.

For this reason, Boudreaux said education and awareness are some of the most important priorities LOPA has. While it is important for people to register to be organ donors, it is equally important for families to be aware of that decision. Ultimately, the family makes the donation decision. Families should not have to reach through their grief and try to remember if they think organ donation is a good thing. If the public is educated enough, organ donation should be an easy decision, Boudreaux said.

LOPA Community Educator Lori Steele specifically reaches out to churches, schools and civic groups to inform the public about the benefits of organ donation. Formerly a television news reporter, she got involved in LOPA because of a story she covered about an organ donor’s celebration of life.

“He died, but he saved lives. That’s when I signed up to be an organ donor,” Steele said. “I had tears in my eyes. You’re not supposed to be emotionally involved when you’re covering a story, but I couldn’t help it… Death will happen with or without organ donation. With organ donation, lives will be saved and a legacy will be left.”

The United Network for Organ Sharing is responsible for matching donors with recipients. According to UNOS.org, there are currently 122,658 patients on the national transplant waiting list. Just fewer than 2,000 of those patients are Louisianans. Most of the time, a Louisiana donor will be matched with a Louisiana recipient because of time constraints. However, if a donor has a rare blood type or organ size, a better match might be found outside of the state.

“The ultimate goal is less deaths on the waiting list,” Boudreaux said. “We have a very giving state. We have a different culture than other places. They say ‘yes’ here more often than other states.”

Brittany is especially thankful for the multiple donors and their families who gave her son a second chance at life.

“It’s the most selfless thing you could do,” she said. “Our only chance for Briggs to grow up to be a normal little boy was through organ donation.”

Anyone interested in becoming an organ donor can register at his or her local Office of Motor Vehicles or at donatelife.net.


By Danielle Kelley

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Why Conservatives Should Support the EBR Library Tax Renewal

I'm conservative, and typically I hate taxes. But one of the GREAT things that taxes provide are public libraries. That's why I'm voting YES on the East Baton Rouge Parish Library tax renewal.

East Baton Rouge Parish has one of the best library systems in the state. Our local libraries not only provide free books for use, but also free movies, CDs, art and databases.

Want to research your family genealogy? EBRPL can help. Want to start a business? EBRPL can help. Want to have fun with your child? EBRPL can help. Want to practice the ACT and get into college? EBRPL can help.

But perhaps the most important reason we should support our libraries is that EBRPL provides free Internet access to anyone. In 2015, especially in middle- to upper-class families, we believe that everyone has Internet access, and that everyone has a computer in their home. This just isn't true. According to the 2013 U.S. Census, 16.2 percent of households do not have a computer, and 25.6 percent of households do not have Internet access. In Louisiana, those numbers are statistically higher than the national average. Many teachers put homework online, so children without computers can go to their local library to do their homework. Many employers communicate via email, so employees can check their email at their local library. Many jobs can only be applied online now, so the unemployed can go to their local library to apply to jobs.

If we conservatives want people to better themselves, to climb the socioeconomic ladder, to have the "American dream," we must support our libraries. People can teach themselves about any topic in a library. And if they can't find that information, their librarian will find it for them.

Libraries do not discriminate. It doesn't matter if you own property, or rent an apartment. It doesn't matter if you work two jobs, or stay at home with the kids. It doesn't matter if you bring home six figures, or struggle to keep a job. It doesn't matter if you are black, or white. It doesn't matter if you went to college, or didn't graduate high school. It doesn't matter if you are retired, or in kindergarten. All you need to get a library card is to live within the parish.

On Oct. 24, please vote YES on the EBRPL tax renewal. For more information about the details of the millage, EBRPL has provided a fact sheet with frequently-asked questions.

Photo via Mark Bienvenu (http://www.msbphoto.com/blog/2014/2/east-baton-rouge-parish-main-library)

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A New Liver, the Same Faith

Savannah Smith was slowly dying since the day she was born. But when she received a new liver after high school graduation, she got a second chance at life.

“I was sick on and off my whole life,” Smith said. “It was a part of God’s purpose for me, part of my life. I know it’s helped me develop as a person.”

At four weeks old, Savannah was diagnosed with biliary atresia, a rare liver disease. At five weeks, she was operated on for the first time. In 19 years, she has endured dozens of additional surgeries.

“The doctors said, ‘Medicine doesn’t fix this. If she doesn’t have this surgery, she’s going to die. If she does have this surgery, there’s still a high percentage that she still may die, and she’ll definitely will die at some point early without a transplant,” said Shelley Smith, Savannah’s mother. “That readjusted our whole life.”

In and out of the hospital, Savannah’s health was like a rollercoaster, Shelley said. A high in her life was being voted Dutchtown High School homecoming queen, shortly followed by one of the longest lows. Savannah could no longer attend school, and was forced to study from home during her senior year.

Savannah was crowned Dutchtown High School homecoming queen,
just weeks before sitting out her senior year due to her illness.

“The most difficult part was not being able to do stuff with my friends, and not getting to go to school since I love school,” Savannah said.

Savannah got so sick that she had brain damage. She couldn’t walk in a straight line, and couldn’t remember asking the same question multiple times. She slept 16 hours a day, and during the few hours she was awake, she did schoolwork online.

Savannah needed a new liver to survive. On April 26, 2014, Savannah became the No. 5 patient on the national pediatric liver waiting list. She was 17 years old.

Despite this, Savannah walked – crooked though it was – across the stage at her high school graduation with a 3.8 GPA in May. Unbeknownst to her, at another school that same month, her liver donor was also celebrating his graduation.

On May 31, 2014, Savannah received a new liver.

She said this wouldn’t have been possible without God’s timing and miracles. She was admitted into the hospital the week before the transplant with a high fever when the doctors discovered five infections. But in just three days, the infections disappeared. The transplant would not have been possible if she had any infections.

“They don’t know how, other than God, which is what I say. I was waiting to be discharged whenever the doctor came in and said, ‘We have a possible liver for you,’” Savannah said.

After she and her family got over the initial shock, they began to pray.

“I was praying for my donor’s family, just knowing what they were going through as we rejoice that I’m getting this second chance,” Savannah said.

A drunk driver killed her donor, a 17-year-old boy, the night of his high school graduation. The similarities between him and Savannah were uncanny, and the Smith family grieved for the donor’s family.

“We had already been praying for the family for a long time,” said Madison Smith, Savannah’s younger sister. “She just graduated and he just graduated, and he didn’t even make it to the day after. It was difficult knowing that it could have been my sister we lost instead of their son.”

As the nurses and doctors prepared Savannah for the transplant, her family said it was difficult telling her goodbye.

“It was really nerve-racking to understand that this may be the last time I see my sister alive, and the fact that this also may be the one time that will save my sister and keep her alive,” Madison said.

Throughout the ordeal, Savannah’s faith never wavered, though her mother acknowledged she was anxious.

“Savannah was the only one of us who wasn’t nervous. She said she knew God had it all in control,” Shelley said. “The rest of us weren’t quite so faithful. We were all very human. She never loss her faith or had doubt.”

“She told us she was ready no matter the outcome,” Shelley said. “That’s also hard to hear from your little girl, to know she was prepared for death.”

After seven hours, Savannah woke up with a smile on her face.

“It felt like a choir of angels,” Shelley said. “She was smiling behind the breathing tube, she signed she loved me and she squeezed my hand to let me know she was ok.”

Two days after the surgery, Savannah could walk in a straight line. One month later, she went home with her family. But the roller coaster ride wasn’t over. She suffered complications from the transplant and had two more surgeries in July 2014. While she has no more liver issues, Savannah is still sick.

“Unfortunately, people think that once you’re transplanted, all your worries are gone. She’s not dying every day like she was, but… now you have a different set of problems,” Shelley said. “She’ll never be what society calls normal. She has her normal, and she’s still not there yet. This will impact our family for life.”

Savannah had to sit out her freshman year of college to recover, but finally enrolled at Southeastern Louisiana University in August 2015 along with her sister Madison. They are both studying nursing.

Savannah and Madison began their freshman
year together at Southeastern in August.

“Going back to school is amazing,” Savannah said. “I’m healthy now, and I want to reach my dream job of being a nurse. I’m thankful for the opportunity.”

Savannah said she had a special bond with all her nurses at each hospital. She hopes to specialize in pediatric oncology.

“My nurses made all the difference. They’d come in and braid my hair and eat pizza with me,” she said. “I’m hoping to use my experiences to work with the patients and their parents.”

Throughout it all, Savannah has had a smile on her face and trust in God. She may not be 100 percent healthy, but “she’s living,” Madison said.

“She runs and works out. She goes to school full-time with me. She speaks for the Louisiana Organ Procurement Agency. She’s living. Before the transplant, she’d be in bed right now sleeping,” Madison said. She pointed out the window at her backyard. “Look, she’s outside playing with the dogs right now.”

Above everything, Savannah is thankful for a second chance at life.

“I really couldn’t express my gratitude to [the donor family] to honor his decision to be a donor,” she said. “I want to share and promote organ donor awareness even more than I was, and talk to everybody about how important it is to appreciate the little things.”

Savannah finished third in her division at the 2015
Rabalais Run for Life, which promotes organ donor awareness.

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#ShoutYourAbortion: Why We Need to Protect the Unborn and Their Mothers

The pro-life movement has a problem. We are not anti-woman. I have never met someone who is against abortion who is also against women. I have, however, met many people who simply don't talk about supporting women as much as they do about supporting the unborn. This was made evident by a recent trending hashtag glorifying abortion.

I came across the #ShoutYourAbortion hashtag by way of Buzzfeed and a Facebook friend, and after reading the tweets, my heart broke into a million pieces. The majority of the women using #ShoutYourAbortion are sharing their abortion experiences and why they have no shame, regret or sadness about the procedure.

I've had 2 abortions. I don't have to justify or explain them to anybody. My life is more valuable than a potential life. #shoutyourabortion

— Clementine Ford (@clementine_ford) September 21, 2015

Had an abortion procedure done at age 22 because I was WAY too young to parent. Have never, ever regretted it. #ShoutYourAbortion

— Mary Emily O'Hara (@MaryEmilyOHara) September 20, 2015

A fully developed human woman is more important than a fetus. #shoutyourabortion #istandwithpp

— Bonita Applebum (@Crass_Sass) September 21, 2015

My initial reaction was anger, fury and disgust. I wanted to shout and throw things. I wanted to say terribly, mean things about these women. "Selfish! Baby killers! Disgusting!" I thought.

But then I realized that those thoughts are the exact reason these women are using #ShoutYourAbortion.

Many women who have abortions are simply young, poor, scared and pregnant. Many times they don't have the financial or emotional support from a partner or family. They have dreams, they want to get an education, and they want to work full-time. They see a baby as the end of those aspirations.

My mother found herself in a similar situation when she was 17 and pregnant. She was going to be the first person in her family to go to college. She graduated valedictorian of her small, rural high school, and great things were expected of her. So when my mother found out she was pregnant with me, she was in shock. She didn't talk about the pregnancy to anyone, and went about her life as usual for months. She moved into her freshman dorm room, enrolled in classes and began college. She wanted to make her family proud. She pretended she wasn't pregnant because she had shame and regret and sadness, and most of all, fear. Who wants to drop out of college, work a job below their capabilities, and raise a child before you want to be a mother?

For a fleeting moment, she thought about abortion. Immediately, she pushed the thought away because she recognized that no life is more important than another. With support from her family, she got through the pregnancy and raised me.

Twenty-two years later, she not only completed her dream of being the first person in her family to get a college degree, but she also earned a master's degree. I'm currently working on my second degree as well. My mom is my role model, and we have a fantastic relationship.

 

I understand that not every teen pregnancy has the same success story as ours. But if the pro-life movement expressed more often that they sincerely want to help the unborn AND the women carrying them, then maybe there would be less abortions and less single moms living in poverty.

Pro-choicers argue that women deserve to be in control of their lives and not at the mercy of a newborn. But no life is more important than another. We should protect pregnant women just as much as their unborn babies. We should promote adoption, and show these women that if they are not ready to become mothers, that is ok! They can give the most precious gift of all to people who desperately want to be parents. We should financially and emotionally support pregnant women who decide to keep their babies as their own. Pregnancy is expensive, and we should help our sisters in need. We should provide counseling. We should provide friendship. We should provide, above all, love to any pregnant woman.

The root of the problem with #ShoutYourAbortion is that these women felt the need to have an abortion in the first place. If we supported women before, during AND after their pregnancies, then maybe, just maybe, they would never have had an abortion, and never would have wanted to shout about it.

Let us pray for wisdom, peace, strength and clarity for pregnant women who weren't initially planning on becoming mothers. Let us pray for generosity and kindness for the pro-life movement. Let us pray for couples seeking to adopt and that their family may grow. Let us pray for the unborn and that they may live.

Thinking about whatever is just,

Danielle

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Coming of Age in Tragedy

Mrs. Creed was the worst teacher I ever had.

It wasn't that I didn't learn anything in her third grade classroom. In fact, she encouraged me to read ahead, and even gave me books she thought I would enjoy reading. She spent time explaining multiplication and long division so everyone understood, and she emphasized the importance of impeccable penmanship.

Mrs. Creed was a bad teacher because she forced us to remember Sept. 11, 2001.

She was hysterical when she came back in our room after being called outside by the assistant principal. She turned out the lights and closed the blinds and made us sit on the floor between bookshelves, in fear "they" would see us. To pass time on the hard floor, Mrs. Creed wheeled out a television, and turned it on to a woman reporting the news in a pantsuit standing knee-deep in dusty, gray matter.

Mrs. Creed did everything possible to make us remember that day, not giving us or our parents the option to let us truly understand the matter. Let me be clear: remembering 9/11 is important for the nation, but not healthy for a naive, innocent 8-year-old. She pointed out different countries that could have possibly done this to us on a map. She made us write the day's events in essay form while she cried at her desk. She told us of bomb drills she had as a little girl. She told us about war. Instead of distracting us, or teaching us that day's lessons, she came up with activities on the fly with the intent for us to remember that day years to come.

And do I remember.

In my memory, I see the images of the plane crashing into the second building, and then the first tower crumbling out of the sky. I can't recall if I saw those clips on Mrs. Creed's television, or my own because Mrs. Creed told us our only homework for the night was to watch the news. My mother argued with me, and said that I couldn't watch it, but she gave up when my aunt Joanna arrived to babysit me so my mom could go to night school. For whatever reason, I wanted to follow Mrs. Creed's homework rules before listening to my own mother.

I remember 9/11 so vividly because my teacher didn't give my mother the chance to explain the day's events. Mrs. Creed had already shocked me before I got on the bus that afternoon. In that way, the terrorists won that day. They scared her, and she in turn, scared us.

I couldn't forget 9/11, but I can't remember the day Joanna died in a house fire a few months later. Whether what I saw was so traumatic that my mind blacked it out, or whether my eyes were shielded by a family friend while my mother ran to the firefighters, I have no memory of seeing that fire.

How can a distant tragedy be so vivid, but a personal trauma draw blanks?

A few years later, when I had grown from a curious child to an angsty preteen, Katrina made landfall a few hours south from my home in East Baton Rouge Parish.

After collecting the usual supplies from the store, I remember watching a male reporter in Jackson Square on my family's generator-powered television saying, "New Orleans is saved! The people are throwing hurricane parties in the street. Katrina has overlooked us." My family went back to playing Monopoly, happy that our state suffered no serious damage. A few hours later when my father turned the TV back on to get updates, we saw the water rising. I didn't understand the extent of it until school was canceled for a week, not because our schools were without power (Zachary was out of power for less than 48 hours), but because people needed our buses to get out of New Orleans. I didn't understand the extent of it until my classmates and I squeezed into our rooms once school did start back up; more than 100 new students flooded my middle school. Some left in a few days, some in a few months, and some walked across the graduation stage with me six years later.

Still, despite the proximity, to me Katrina was only a week off of school and a downed tree in my yard. I saw the rooftop rescues on television, but it felt distant, and I felt indifferent.

It wasn't until I went to college that I personally empathized with Katrina's victims. I became friends with classmates who on every anniversary of landfall would grieve their city. They would share Facebook statuses and Instagram pictures of their homes, schools and friends that they never saw again. During the tenth anniversary this year, national media outlets praised New Orleans' rebirth as the comeback kid, but my friends still bemoaned the New Orleans it once was, and the New Orleans it will never be again.

I believe the difference between two events in my mind was my exposure to media. At 8-years-old, I watched thousands of people die on television over and over again, and remember that day clearly. At the same age, I witnessed my aunt's house burn to the ground, but I have no recollection of the night. Had I been forced to watch my family's worst day over and over again on television, I might remember the horror. Thankfully, I don't have to remember. When Katrina made landfall, I never saw any graphic images, and the images I did see were few because my family was saving generator juice for the fridge and box fans. I vaguely remember the weeks following Katrina, but I never truly empathized until I became friends with victims as an adult; I read their memories online every year on Katrina's anniversary.

Sometimes the things we want to forget never leave us, sometimes our minds bless us with blackouts instead of real memories, and sometimes we simply remember the general event instead of the specific moments. The mind is a mystery.

LSU Lost 10-3, but I Still Love My Tigers

As I am writing this, the LSU Tigers are down 10-2 to TCU in the College World Series.

It's a nightmare.

A Louisiana summer afternoon storm blew over our home in the seventh inning, with just enough rain to block the satellite coverage. Normally I would be outraged, but now I am grateful. I don't feel obligated to watch this meltdown unfold more. 

It's a heartache that LSU fans know all too well, come post-season.*

Notre Dame beat LSU with a field goal at the Music City Bowl, 31-28. LSU Gymnastics - which was expected to easily dance into the Super Six, and even win the National Championship - wobbled on the beam when it mattered the most. LSU Basketball finally made it to the tournament... only to lose a double-digit lead in the first game. The women's team also lost in the first round.

After these devastating losses you can surely expect to see the following things said about the coaches on social media:

"Les Miles is an IDIOT! Why would anyone mismanage the clock like that?!" 

"Johnny Jones BLEW IT! How can you possibly give up a game like that?!"

Even worse is when I read about the players.

"Anthony Jennings is an embarrassment to LSU! He should transfer!" 

"Why all the hype about Leonard Fournette? He's a lousy football player!"

And I'm sure, after today, I will read something like this:

"Jared Poche SUCKS! What a loser! He blew the game!"

It's like they've forgotten all the times these men and women have given glory to LSU. It's like they've forgotten these STUDENT-athletes must juggle all the stress that comes with studying for at least 12 hours of classes, as well as the anxiety that comes with an entire state watching your every move on the field or court.

To all my favorite social media complainers out there, let me ask you a simple question.

Why do you cheer for the Tigers?

Is it because you grew up watching the Tigers with your parents? Is it because you're from Baton Rouge, and that's what you do when you live in the Red Stick? Is it because you're a student, and you take classes with these players? Is it because you earned a degree from Louisiana's flagship university? Is it because your love LSU with all your heart and the thought of any Tiger facing defeat eats your up inside?

For me, it's all of the above. It's because I have the fondest memories listening to Jim Hawthorne calling the College World Series in the '90s with my mother. It's because I vividly remember walking into Death Valley and Alex Box for the very first time, and being blown away by their beauty. It's because LSU, with all her passion and youth, gives life to the city of Baton Rouge. It's because my time under those stately oaks and broad magnolias evoke a nostalgia so strong it warms and aches my heart simultaneously. It's because I take pride in my degree.

It's because I love my university, I love my city and I love my Tigers.

And even when I scream in frustration and even when tears roll down my face in disappointment, I still love my Tigers.

As I wrap this up, the storm has cleared and the TV is back on. LSU lost, 10-3.

It's not over yet. The Tigers play again on Tuesday. 

Let's geaux.

*LSU Softball made a valiant effort in the Women's College World Series, finishing third. LSU Men's Golf won the National Championship. So we do have something to celebrate.

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