Our Moment
To Stand for What We Love
A crowd in the hundreds gathered in front of the old schoolhouse museum on Main Street in Lakeport this week for a "May Day!" protest. An impressive turnout for such a small community, especially on a Thursday. Many of the people I knew, but may more I did not. This tiny (and growing) army carried their clever, handmade signs, lining both sides of the street.
It occurs to me that, for those that are able, this is our job now. And of course, we reach out and invite others to make their voices heard too, and we offer support to the vulnerable and discouraged.
People march for those who can't--—those working long hours or are directly under threat. Some protesters even pushed their own limits to be there. I noticed that elders and disabled folks were well represented, bringing their chairs and canes along with their heartfelt and often witty messages.
My own message this time was not humorous, but it came from the heart--expressing what I love so much about America:
Side One says "Uphold the Constitution and Due Process"
Side Two says simply "Rule of Law" (It seemed fitting that it was made from one of my old political campaign signs.)
All this got me thinking about more ways I can use my voice and especially about why I must do so now.
My mom used to say "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all." She wanted me to be kind. A few years ago, I adopted a new mantra: "When you feel cynical, keep it to yourself." I didn’t want to infect others with the disease of cynicism.
I’ve found that when I’m discouraged, the way back to center is to look for the helpers—just as Mr. Rogers once advised--and to seek sources of inspiration.
Today I find inspiration in the courage of others.
Clear voices matter now more than ever. We live in a moment where silence equals complicity and where our collective voices are one of the few things standing between a civil, constitutional society and the abyss.
The work of our time is to meet the moment. I, for one, seek ways to navigate the engineered chaos--to face overwhelm, to move through the ocean of real and imagined fears, with a sense of hope and agency. How to do this without succumbing to fear, anger, or discouragement is a great work in itself.
So, I look for stories of courage and inspiration. These too, are infectious--in the best way.
In the words of "Big, Yellow, Taxi:--"You don't know what you've got til its gone." It occurs to me that much of what I love about our country, I've taken for granted. Until now.
My own list could go on and on, Here are just a few highlights of what’s at stake—what I love:
The guiding principles of the Constitution and Bill of Rights—freedom of speech, equal protection, due process, and the checks and balances of power.
That we care for one another through our social safety net—programs that reflect our collective compassion and responsibility.
Our tradition (however uneven) of expanding rights and striving toward justice—for women, for people of color, for LGBTQ+ communities, and for future generations.
The ideal—still alive in many hearts—that government should serve the people, not the other way around.
The resilience and generosity of everyday Americans in times of crisis.
The peaceful transfer of power.
The passion and voices of those who seek justice and want to make a difference.
Our artists, comedians, writers, and creators.
Our libraries—and all the books that inform, inspire, and tell stories that help me understand others’ lives and perspectives.
Our diversity.
The fact that our country was once considered a beacon of liberty. Imperfect, yes, but I loved that we aspired to it.
Our national parks, recreation areas, and protected wildlands.
Representative government—and town halls. I even love the voices I disagree with (as misguided or uninformed as I may think they are), because more than once I’ve found my own views shifting after a healthy debate.
I don’t want to take any of this for granted.
People have asked me about political strategy—how to stay informed without becoming disheartened, how to stay engaged in a healthy, constructive way. How do we foster agency and action in ourselves and others? What can one person do?
For me, the answer comes down to this:
Follow love and inspiration. Use your voice to stand for what you love. Find and join others who care. Learn what’s going on in your own community.
While marching on Thursday, despite everything that has happened—and continues to happen—I felt an inner peace. We are in this lifeboat together. This is our moment. This is our time to stand up in the face of it all.
We do this because it is ours to do.
We stand for what we love, and we use our voices in whatever ways we can. Together.
We are Love Rising.
