Dear editor:

In 1976, my mom and dad received orders to buy 2000 pounds of food from the PX in Korea (military Walmart) and ship it to Havana, Cuba. Our family was chosen to be one of 10 American families to go back to Havana, Cuba.

Following the Castro revolution of 1959, a revolution which severed all diplomatic ties with the U.S., my father, a U.S. diplomat, was one of the men chosen to begin the process of reinstating diplomatic relations between the US and Cuba.

So, in 1977 at the tender age of 8, I found myself living in Havana, Cuba under communism and the attending philosophy of collectivism (the practice or principle of giving a group priority over each individual in it; or groupthink for short.). It sounds more glamorous than it actually was. Our next door neighbor was our own personal spy who watched us, recorded us and followed us.

When my parents told me my room was “bugged,” I took it as a personal challenge to annoy the spies with all of my 8-year -old problems (yes, I literally talked to the walls, straight jacket here I come). There were bugs of the other kind too. There were tarantulas. Large, hairy, ugly tarantulas, seemingly large enough to carry me. Cockroaches that had their own zip code (I know you think I exaggerate, but the dang things flew too; I swear they were equipped with landing lights).

We lived there for 2 years, where the gracious Cuban people avoided us in public, but applauded us in private. I can only imagine the problems we caused the Castro regime. Please know that I left there with immense respect for the people of Cuba. They are big hearted, warm, compassionate people who were trying to survive from day to day with a capricious, tyrannical regime.

All of the churches were boarded up (for collectivism is atheistic at its core, no God allowed) and anyone caught espousing religion was imprisoned or “removed.” Castro always said he was God because he could give the children candy and the so called “God” could not. So, my mom, (miss you mom) thumbed her nose at the communist regime and placed her Christmas Tree in the big picture window beside our front door. The Angel on top and the promise of Christ in the word “Christmas” were impossible to miss from the street in our Havana neighborhood.

Our house became a tourist spot for forlorn, closeted Christians, as they would stop at our front window and stare with tears streaming down their faces. They were not allowed to celebrate Christmas, but they took simple joy in the fact that someone could. So, Cubans would go out of their way to walk, drive or bike past our house and enjoy the Christmas tree. I know I was only 8 at the time, but this was my third country in four years. I remember so much.

Which brings me to this…ladies and gentlemen, we are in a battle. A battle that has existed since the beginning of time, collectivism or “the group” versus individualism. In my personal life, I have witnessed the effects of collectivism first hand. I lived in collectivists states for five consecutive years (I’ll tell you about eastern Europe in the mid ’80s later). The lure of our country has always been the promise of freedom and upward mobility, one person at a time. This whole concept of group and identity politics that is so prevalent at this time is the antithesis of our beliefs.

Until we start seeing people as individuals and not as part of a collectivist group, we will continue to deteriorate.

Groupthink is everywhere. It is in our schools, our streets and our churches.

How much do you look at a person and see race, religion or socio economic status? We must start seeing people as individuals and not try to shoe horn them into a collectivist group.

Finally, this Christmas season, one last question. Was a collective (group) sent to save us from our sins or was it one person? (Hint: for all major religions, the answer is the same). Merry Christmas!

Travis Kern

Moultrie