A blacklist (or black list) is a list or register of persons who, for one reason or another, are being denied a particular privilege, service, mobility, access or recognition. As a verb, to blacklist can mean to deny someone work in a particular field, or to ostracize a person from a certain social circle. -- Wikipedia.
Today I made the blacklist.
After I became disabled thanks to congestive heart failure some years ago, I tried to find something to do that would allow me to remain active. Because I had a knowledge of history and a gift for telling stories, I was asked to help with a living history program at Turkey Creek Nature Preserve.
With my re-enactor friend Eric (who did everything from Alabama Creek War through to World War I), we would put on historical programs for homeschoolers and inner city kids. Eric would do first person, I would tell stories from Alabama's history -- stories like Sam Dale and Caesar at the Canoe Fight, Aunt Jenny's Soapdish, or the fighting rearguard action fought by Bouton's Black Brigade of United States Colored Troops after the battle of Brices' Crossroads.
I never asked for a dime for the time and effort and neither did Eric. Eventually, we began doing the same thing for Pinson High School history students as well. We both love seeing kids open up to history and we were looking forward to this spring, when I got word that Taylor Steele, the director of the park for Birmingham Southern College which runs it, wanted to see me.
I was informed this morning that the park must "distance itself" from me. These orders came from Taylor's higher ups at BSC, so I don't blame him. He obviously hated doing it.
So, I'm fired from a job I never took a dime for.
It was perfectly predictable and I am actually amazed the collectivist academics took so long.
Still, it hurts.
It hurts a lot.