Happy Labor Day.
It’s the end of summer, the start of a new school year and a time of rest before it’s back to work...if only we were living in normal times.
But of course, we aren’t and haven’t been for more than six months. Covid19 leaps from nation to nation, group to group, person to person. We feel helpless. It’s like the song that’s become an International Anthem for healthcare workers during this Epidemic.
We are all Waiting on the World to Change
Meanwhile, I avoid people. I’ve stopped making multiple trips to the grocery store.
Even when I go, it’s a quick in and out. Returning home, I always wash my hands from thumbs to elbows and face too. I keep singing Happy Birthday to time the washing just as the CDC recommends.
My local Giant has retrofitted plexiglass at checkout counters. Precautions are in place for both shoppers and employees. Signs urge distance – at least 6 feet to be safer. Masks are required and thankfully people comply.
Fortunately, no Kens or Karens are throwing tantrums here.
Yesterday, I went on a walk – solo. As I rounded a corner I saw a neighbor. She lives on the same hallway as I do. Yet, I had not seen her since before the Epidemic.
Obviously, both of us have been avoiding human contact. Even in this chance meeting, we step back 6, 8 maybe 10 feet. But still, talking through our masks, we try to connect. It’s like a moment of human warmth without touching.
I talk with distant friends via Zoom. I try to have a few calls every week so that I don’t get to feeling too isolated. That can be a danger when you live alone. It helps a lot, but honestly, it isn’t the same.
Risking a little exposure, I’ve started inviting friends in pairs and threesomes for wine time on my patio. We avoid hugs even though we all want to embrace.
We sit apart. We admire the garden. We pretend all is well. But, it’s not.
Sometimes, wine time turns into whining time. Between sips, we unload the stress. It’s not just the little annoyances, but also about the mega issues.
This epidemic has become a pandemic with economic, social, and political crises. Disasters scream for attention.
We talk about lost jobs. I don’t know exactly how they make calculations, but numbers keep growing. “Did you see that story about Food Banks being overwhelmed?” So many people are in need that the social safety net is shredding before our eyes.
Years ago I was part of a Campaign to End Childhood Hunger. We had success expanding nutrition programs for children and their families. But now, gains have been canceled and it seems like a lost cause.
Don’t we still realize that families without income grow more and more desperate? And children go hungry…in America.
We talk about racism. Who can avoid it? Every week brings news of another black person shot by police.
The nation is shocked to see in Prime Time the murder of George Floyd. “I can’t breathe,” he says crying out for his mother before a final gasp.
An eye witness shares what he saw...lest we forget.
Last month, a friend told me about a Black Lives Matter demonstration in which she and her husband were participating.
I decide to join them at the busy intersection of Wisconsin and Western Avenue.
I felt safe going to this demonstration since we each had our own street corner. Maybe there was some exposure in taking a Metro to get there. But with only 2 or 3 people in the Metro car, I figured it was worth the risk.
After all, I’ve been waiting a long time for change and here’s a chance for me to say, “Enough is ENOUGH!”
A few weeks later, a friend and I replicated the demonstration on Connecticut Avenue.
Every Thursday we hold up our signs. Again, cars honk. Passengers gesture support.
People walking up the Avenue thank us. Some ask if we need water. We invite them to join us. Maybe some will, but if not, we’ve all had a moment of affirming life no matter the color. Is America changing?
What are we to do as we wait on the world to change?
I keep thinking about a weaving metaphor. It’s like our times are calling forth a weaving of a new human cloth. Could it be a reckoning of people first? As strands of yarn are shuttled back and forth, magic can happen.
Black Lives Matter started in 2013 with three community organizers. They were outraged by the acquittal of Trayvon Martin’s murderer. They took that outrage and wove it into a new thing inviting others to do the same.
Now people in America and around the world are engaged in change. There so much work to be done and so many talents needed.
Ending racism and building justice is no quick fix. It'll take more than signs and demonstrations. But let's begin (again?) A new cloth is being woven by people like you and me – one strand at a time.
Martin Luther King called this the work of a Beloved Community.
For King, “The Beloved Community was not a lofty utopian goal to be confused with the rapturous image of the Peaceable Kingdom, in which lions and lambs coexist in idyllic harmony.
“Rather, The Beloved Community was for him a realistic, achievable goal that could be attained by a critical mass of people committed to and trained in the philosophy and methods of nonviolence.” - The King Philosophy
Thank God these are not normal times. It’s time for weaving….
