- a fair, objective, and permissive attitude toward those whose opinions, practises, race, religion nationality, etc., differ from one's own; freedom from bigotry.
- a fair, objective, and permissive attitude toward opinions and practises that differ from one's own.
- interest in and concern for ideas, opinions, practises, etc.,foreign to one's own; a liberal, undogmatic viewpoint.
- the act or capacity of enduring; endurance: My tolerance of noise is limited
- Medicine/Medical, Immunology: (a) the power of enduring or resisting the action of a drug,poison, etc.: a tolerance to antibiotics (b) the lack of or low levels of immune response to transplanted tissue or other foreign substance that is normally immunogenic.
16 Nov 2012
INTERNATIONAL DAY OF TOLERANCE.
Established in 1996 by the United Nations, the International Day Of Tolerance is a focus for educating people about the need for tolerance in society, helping individuals to understand the negative effects of intolerance.
In a world that is seemingly forever growing smaller, in a time when communication is becoming ever easier, ever faster, in an age when knowledge is more readily available than ever before, why is it that injustice, oppression, racism, sexism and unfair discrimination still have a role to play?
Not a political person per se, this is hardly the most eloquent post on intolerance but it is heartfelt and hopefully will give you something to think about.
The Misunderstood Child by Kathy Winters is a poem about children with 'hidden' disabilities.
I am the child that looks healthy and fine
I was born with ten fingers and toes
And what it is, nobody knows.
I am the child that struggles in school
Though they say that I am perfectly smart
They tell me I'm lazy ..... can learn if I try
But I don't seem to know where to start.
I am the child who won't wear the clothes
Which hurt me or bother my feet
I dread sudden noises, can't handle most smells and tastes
There are few foods I'll eat.
I am the child who can't catch the ball
And runs with an awkward gait
I am the one chosen last on the team
And I cringe as I stand there and wait.
I am the child with whom no one will play
The one that gets bullied and teased
I try to fit in and I want to be liked
But nothing I do seems to please.
I am the child that tantrums and freaks over things that seem petty and trite
You'll never know how I panic inside
When I'm lost in my anger and fright.
I am the child that fidgets and squirms
Though I'm told to sit still and be good
Do you think I choose to be out of control?
Don't you know I would if I could?
I am the child with the broken heart
Though I act like I don't really care
Perhaps there's a reason God made me this way