Every day I do the social media scroll through countless postings and comments. I pause on things I’m interested in. Viewpoints I resonate with. Helpful tips. Oddball claims. But like most of you I suspect, I scroll past the vast majority bypassing the most outrageous—or not, given the day and my mood. Very little sticks. In fact, hour for hour, I can’t recall much of what I’ve actually seen. Such is social media.
Except every once in a while…
I remember recently seeing someone comment that their appearance before a town council meeting was successful because they didn’t vomit.
And that has stayed with me.
It speaks in the most immediate way to the times we are living in. How many of us, because of circumstances, are being pushed out of our comfort zones? Being propelled into action. But not just doing things. These are activities far beyond what we ever thought we were capable of. Engaging with life in purposeful way crossing previously defined boundaries of who we thought we were and how we thought we’d behave. We believed that life was a certain way and we reacted to it. We expressed ourselves allowing that these parameters were fixed. Ah, but we learned that those constraints were artificial and as they began to tighten, we had to redefine ourselves. Not everyone did though. Uncomfortably for us, some liked the constriction and applauded it. Even as our souls cried out, they begged for more. Independence was never a core part of their identity but safety at any cost was something they could always get behind.
We were never alike but we lived together during better times.
But now, they are scooping up brown people and putting them in cages. It makes them feel safe. Of course, they don’t use those words…
Some of us are protesting in the streets (not nearly enough of us), appearing before city councils, writing letters to elected officials, recording ICE activities, and countless other things to push back. Because we have lived during better times. When we look back, we know America was never that great and when we look forward, we see the future in terms of what it could be. An unexpressed promise of a dream of better, never achieved but always dangled to move as toward an ideal.
This week I wrote, “No Kings 3, March 28th” in chalk in the park several times. An impermanent bulletin board for those scared and too afraid. I wish more Americans would rise up. The next day, one of the writings was obliterated but three remained. Once upon a time in America.
ellisnelson 