Wednesday, December 21, 2016

Yogi Berra was right.




(If you received this blog by email, you might want to visit the actual site. The pictures work much better there. 
Just click on the title “Yogi Berra was right”)

Have you ever written a long email, took you hours (it seemed), only to lose it when you hit some mystery key that snatched it into oblivion? I did something like that yesterday with a blog post. As I was pulling it together, a formatting goblin possessed it and refused to be exorcised no matter which of my clever editing tricks I used. Finally, not enthusiastic about re-typing the whole thing from scratch (I’m a slow and rotten typist), I took it as a sign that I wasn’t supposed to post that particular blog. I was ambivalent about it anyhow. The fact that I’m obsessed with post-election activism, I kept thinking, doesn’t mean everyone wants to read my latest rant. At great length.

So I decided to do the Cliff Notes version of that blog, and pass along some fun photos as insulation. After all, it’s solstice, and we should celebrate the return of the light … while doing our part to be sure it returns (I couldn’t resist that little hint of the goblin-esque blog).
  
So here’s that blog post, in brief:

Yogi Berra was right. It ain’t over til it’s over.

We can’t let the complicated distraction of the holidays—or our activism fatigue from being hyper-energized by this stuff for over a month—persuade us that it’s time to kick back and wait for our next best shot at a different president. We have to be active, stay active, protest, resist, organize … do what JFK called “the quiet work of centuries,”* keep building toward what MLK called “the beloved community.” 



A bunch of articles in recent days have heightened my awareness of how truly, deeply, genuinely scary this time is for our communities and our country. Nobel Prize-winning economist and New York Times columnist Paul Krugman described the moment like this: “If there is any hope of redemption, it will have to begin with a clear recognition of how bad things are. American democracy is very much on the brink.” Michelle Obama said to Oprah, “Now we’re feeling what not having hope feels like.”

To me, those are heads up, wake-up calls to action. For hints of what got me all riled up, read these articles:




How Republics End 













So what should we do?  

“Shout from the rooftops,” despite the exhaustion that comes from sustaining outrage (Charles Blow, NYT).

Stand up, speak up, protest, write letters, make phone calls, write emails, sign petitions, lobby elected officials, demonstrate. And then do it all again. (Paraphrased from comments by the ED of the Colorado ACLU at a recent community forum).

And from author Ken Burns, asked by a student what she should do in the face of the threat posed by Trump:

What to do, you ask? A million things, of course. But it begins with the first step of awareness and commitment, which you have already made.

Just go forward. Engage. Don’t despair. Find likeminded people—not from your social circle, but everywhere. Change the opinions of others, not with ridicule, but reason.

Finally, remember too that Barack Obama himself has said that the highest office in the land is not president, but citizen.

Be one.


He was talking to me. Be a citizen, he said. Be a participant in this marvelous experiment in Democracy—or share the responsibility if it crashes.

And remember, some people don’t have the option of stepping back. People of color, religious minorities, immigrants, people with disabilities, veterans, LGBTQ (especially trans) people, women … all of the people that this president elect and his nascent administration have targeted or promised to target—they/we are members of our communities, too, and we/they can’t sit back and wait. The dangers are every day for them/us. Those of us with great privilege need to spend it now, spend it toward the beloved community.

If we’re in this for the long haul—and we are, like it or not—we have to look beyond the cartoon image of a mass of orange hair hovering above the inaugural bible. We have to stay engaged when the ceremonies are over and the daily grind sets in.


P.S.     If you’re looking for some ideas about just how to get active, stay tuned for a soon-to-be-announced (by Out Boulder County and A Queer Endeavor) “Community 100-Day Plan”—a people’s equivalent to the president’s “first 100-days” plan. I can just about promise that something there will get you jazzed.



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* Aptly, the phrase “the quiet work of centuries” became the title of Resonance Women’s Chorus’ recent post-election concert.



© Janis Bohan, 2010-2015. Use of this content is welcome with attribution and a link to the post. 

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