Post-Election Reflections

I am only one, but I am still one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something. And because I cannot do everything I will not refuse to do the something that I can do. Helen Keller

A week ago I was in Boston, a city awash in World Series euphoria. Yellow leaves floated in the air like confetti and the refrain of Ode to Joy rang out from a church spire as three million Red Sox fans gathered gleefully in the rain to welcome their baseball heroes. Never before had I seen such newspaper headlines: one said simply, YES…another, THANK YOU. People laughed and took giddy snapshots in the park, shopkeepers taped jubilant posters to their windows, and I have zero interest in baseball, but for a moment I forgot all my sorrows and angst and knew only the pure joy of being alive.

I suppose that should have been enough. But as I glimpsed the shining side of humanity, I dared to imagine a celebration of something greater - an end to war, perhaps, or hunger, a daring step toward healing the environment, some inconceivable triumph over ignorance and greed. Why not? I am, after all, a schoolteacher and prone to such idealism. And I don't mean to belittle the healthy bliss of sports victory, but it was lovely to project the idea of all this ecstatic, intoxicating energy onto a bigger screen. Besides, the election was still pending, and I had merely traveled from one blue region to another.

There it is. The election was still pending. I lived in that sliver of hope in which a new beginning might yet be on the horizon. Even after four years of George W. Bush, I still believed that the heartland of America was fundamentally warm-hearted, that thinking people would prevail, that plain fact would trump dogma and lies. Yes, some would rather light a candle than curse the darkness…but I know now that many prefer to call the darkness light.

And I'm trying to fathom citizenship in a nation that chooses to deny its membership in a global community, finds pre-emptive attack an acceptable foreign policy, and views the earth as essentially a field from which to extract resources. I'm trying to see how intrusion into personal life choices has become a priority while people are dying every day in a misguided war. I'm trying to grasp my role in a country that fundamentally believes the disadvantaged should fend for themselves and calls that Christian, and rejects the precious democratic value maintaining that church and state are separate entities in order that both may endure. I do not recognize this nation.

Furthermore, when a presidency is built and won through fear, intolerance, and division, its subsequent lip service to healing and unity is hollow. There is no way to reason or compromise with those in the throes of jihad, and make no mistake - that is the mind set of the Bush administration. We must instead become a force of our own, mighty in our 48%, vigilant and diligent and never for a moment despairing. Hope is as vital as breathing -- but hope without real activism is meaningless now.
Brothers and sisters: do not go gently. We need a moment to recover from the heartbreak and the shock but there is too much at stake for paralysis. We must set our own agenda and work tirelessly for the causes that matter - be it the environment, human rights, poverty, whatever. Everything we care about is in jeopardy, so choose what means most to you and throw yourself into it with all your heart and soul. Volunteer, write letters, use the web, contribute money, demonstrate, pay attention, get in their faces. Start at the local level but keep your eye on the larger picture. Consider the words of Margaret Mead: "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has."

I saw a city in its moment of triumph grow small town and bighearted and I understood how we hunger for a hero and crave reasons to be joyful. Good-natured people buoyed my spirits, and I indulged myself with a fleeting look into the universe of possibility. I wish it had been a prelude to something greater, but human history takes us through many dark passages in order that we might learn to see. Let us help each other through. Please.

- Cynthia Carbone Ward