Over the years I have used this blog space to mess around—with ideas, kinds of writing, connections, seasonal musings. My categories have morphed over time and have held various kinds of writing in a loose organization that makes occasional sense. That changed on the morning of November 6. It has taken me 10 days to pick myself up enough to think of next steps because it is either come up with a new approach or shut the whole thing down.
So I got to thinking about Stacey Abrams and all the rest of her sisters in the 92%. How do they differ from all of us White women who could barely muster 50%, if that? (White men fare worse.) Black women have been holding this whole experiment together for generations, even though they get the raw end of the deal every time, and they keep going. Stacey Abrams got out the vote in Georgia in 2020 that helped Joe Biden win the state and again in the special elections that gave Democrats control of the Senate. She now hosts a podcast, called “Assembly Required” because to make this whole thing work we have to constantly be putting things together. Or back together.
So I am amused when I see people wailing that this is The End of the World. Or even The End of Democracy. Certainly that is what the winners of this election want. They want to end democracy, but they also want us giving up before it has happened. That way they win without lifting a finger. So it isn’t the End of Democracy, godammit. It’s a Rough Patch.
I am not an organizer. I joined my share of marches in the 60s and even went door-to-door to try to end the war in Vietnam, but I’m not sure those tactics are effective now. Marches in the street, like we did in 2016, feel so … 2016. The war is happening on a different front now and requires a new approach. Right now I trust that the people in a position to do so are implementing those new tactics. People yelling a lot on social media are fighting the last war.
What, then, must we do?
That question appears in the Gospel of Luke when the crowd wants John the Baptist to tell them how to live a Godly life. Tolstoy took it up as he wrestled with issues of social justice. In “The Year of Living Dangerously,” Billy Kwan, played by Linda Hunt, tries to engage Guy Hamilton on the question. Guy (played by Mel Gibson in what feels like prescient casting) dismisses Billy’s argument and fails even to hear what Billy is saying:
It’s a wonderful film, directed by Peter Weir and using the Indonesian shadow play as an underlying metaphor. But it is that question “What, then, must we do?” that haunts the film. The story is grounded in a particular moment but the question is universal and timeless.
We are grounded in our own particular moment, facing circumstances built upon and created by our own history and yet with implications beyond our national boundaries and affecting future generations.
When times are good it is easy to be lazy, lose our edge, leave the big issues to others who are clearly so good at them. Times don’t look so good right now so this space will now explore random thoughts, observations, resources, perhaps the occasional recipe, for Not Giving Up.
Nurturing creativity, community, connections are no longer simply good things to do. They are now acts of resistance.
2 Responses
“Our own history.” It’s more than comforting to recall our agency in taking history back and being its keepers. Of much use to me is “Patriot,” Alexei Navalny’s account of what we all must do. He passes this summons into our waiting hands, averring that the Russian State which criminalized him is not his Russia, but a temporary junta. It will pass. Endings are beginnings.
I love this, Chuck. Thank you.