In my possessions, I still have a Russian ruble with the number "2" in the corners and Stalin's face squarely in the middle.

My first Russian pen pal sent it to me in the late '80s, before communism fell in the USSR. He lived in Kyiv. Kyiv was still part of Russia then and spelled Kiev on the map.

It took six months to get a letter back from a pen pal in Russia. I was told all the incoming and outgoing mail was read and checked before passing it along. We had to be careful of what we said so the letters would be allowed through.

His family didn't have money, so it was considered a great feat for him to send it to me and for it to actually reach past the icy grip of Gorbachev's communism.

At least, to my teenage mind, it was.

I keep it because it reminds me that truly evil leaders can rise to power and have no qualms about killing their own people, that others live under oppressive regimes, and because it was a sacrifice for him to send.

When I last heard from him, he was 17. He had to serve the mandatory two years in the Russian army, and I never heard from him again.

That was almost 40 years ago.

Today, we see the oppressions manifesting in other ways with those in power many are too afraid to confront or discuss.

Going against the ones responsible for your paycheck and whether your family eats this week is scary unless you're able to build a way out.

All those people in that room applauding when and how they did, to me, looked like a bunch of trained seals at a circus, like the ones from the old cartoons.

I wonder what rewards they've been promised for good behavior.

I wonder when they'll realize it was all a lie.

The woman in the red dress.

Stalin.

Stalin's red dress: agendas and lies wrapped in polyester and diplomatic laundry.

Indeed.