Have you ever been told not to do something you wanted to do?

Have you ever held back your true feelings?

Have you ever been imprisoned?

Have you ever feared for your life because of what you believe?

Most of us can answer affirmatively to the first two of these questions, but we struggle with the honesty of agreeing with the latter two … especially in the wake of a wave of knowledge that washed over our country in the last two months.

The oppression of those living under the Taliban regime has become general public knowledge. Newsweek, Time, your daily newspapers and the home page on your computer flood the conscious with images of sadness, repression and state-supported persecution.

Men are forced to grow their beards and women are hidden from the world underneath yards of dark, heavy fabric in the name of radical Islam.

We are fortunate to live in a society that allows us the freedoms of religion, speech, the freedom of those things over which we have no control — race, ethnicity, gender and sexual identity & and the freedom of choice … to wear orange leg-warmers with a purple miniskirt and lime green tube top, if that’s your thing.

We take for granted the things of which others in this world can’t even dream, and we often forget that individual discrimination is not the same as government sponsored oppression.

In the past two days I’ve seen a radical transformation on the television.

No longer are we seeing images of beatings, bombings and hatred coming from the East.

Call it media spin on the streaming video, if you wish, but there is no denying that the mood has shifted.

After years of hatred, pain, killings and religious zealot-control, the people of Afghanistan are tasting just a table scrap of the freedom we feast upon daily.

We have the Taliban running for the caves and the people dancing in the streets. I’ve never seen someone so filled with joy as an Afghan man shaving years of grief from his face.

How thoughtless of me to complain about cold showers when I’m shaving my legs in the morning.

In this season of Thanksgiving, it’s time to take a long, reflective look at the world around us and thank God, Allah, Jehovah or our lucky stars that we are Americans.

I’m thankful for my school, everyone and everything on this campus. The dredged-out lagoon reminds me that there will one day be beauty again. The Huskie buses teach me patience. The lack of parking makes me thankful for my mobility. I’m thankful for the Student Association and the board of trustees, they keep me busy at my job.

I’m thankful for the professors and teachers who have forced me to be disciplined in my life and diligent in my work through their countless hours of genuine concern for future generations.

I’m thankful for my enemies, for they let me know who my friends are.

I’m thankful for bad drivers, they help pay for better roads.

I thank God for my parents. They remind me to concentrate on the content of my character, not the weight of my purse.

I thank God for my sister. She shows me every day the pureness of adoration and the kind heart of a child. She tells me it’s OK to watch cartoons and talk to myself when I’m lonely.

I’m thankful for the images in the media, no matter how disturbing, because they instill in me passion and move me to action.

I’m thankful for the hate mail I receive after every column, they provide me alternate points of view.

I’m thankful every day that my government celebrates individuality; that I have the privilege to call upon my political leaders and keep them accountable to their countrymen and women. That I do not have to fear the opposition, the majority or the minority.

I praise our founding fathers every day for having the foresight to ensure a Constitution, the cornerstone of our society, that is not impenetrable to change.

I’m thankful for the Republicans for their leadership. I’m thankful for the Democrats because they make me laugh.

And, yes, I’m thankful for our capitalist society, for the hierarchy of success, for the unequal distribution of power.

It makes me thankful for what I have, strive for what I don’t, and softens my heart to help those who aren’t as fortunate as I may be.

I’m thankful I’m an American.