"We believe in things that we cannot see
Why shouldn't we, why shouldn't we
Hands that heal can set a chained man free
Why shouldn't we, why shouldn't we…"
- Mary Chapin Carpenter
I was talking with a young friend recently and she told me that she thought it was a bit foolish and naïve of me to believe that as a voter I could make a difference in the 2008 election. "Didn't you learn anything in the 60s?", she sighed in exasperation, "They win…no matter what we do."
Ahh….I remembered that feeling. It hit me like a heavy wet blanket one afternoon in the late summer of 1972. McGovern/Eagleton…that was my ticket. I had campaigned, rallied and fought back tears as we chanted in Miami. But on August 1st Eagleton withdrew his name, and a candidacy that could have turned the tide on the Vietnam War, was virtually over. His effort to lift the fog of doubt creeping over the country like a miasma regarding McGovern's judgment (in choosing a running mate who was actually human, a man who had hospitalized himself for treatment of "mental and physical exhaustion") only gave the press more fodder for their mill. The grinding down of a candidacy…and my hopes for our country…had begun.
So what has happened to my voter activism in the last 35 years. Lots. I became zealous, disillusioned, apathetic, anti-establishment, distrustful, rebellious…hopeful. Thirty-five years is a long time. And experience has taught me some important life lessons about the importance of not judging the motives of others. I may not like decisions that are being made on my behalf, but I have two choices. I can participate in prompting change and follow through by voting for the initiatives that I believe in. Or I can pretend that I don't care. I say pretend, because I am convinced that we all do care. And why shouldn't we?
The world is a beautiful place. It is filled with amazing people whose hearts are full of hope. Each day children in war-torn countries rise from their beds and throw their arms around their parents and grandparents in love. Every night mothers and fathers around the world commit their hearts to getting up in the morning and going to jobs that they hope will afford them the resources they need to provide their children with shelter, clothing and an education.
Last Sunday my husband and I sat and watched the Democratic debate hosted by George Stephanopoulos. I was deeply moved by each candidate's willingness to lay their lives (literally) on the line for others. I may not agree with one's choices, another's proposals, or think that "that one" should say "this or that"…but they are up there. They are willing to allow us to scrutinize their lives, their families, their haircuts or neck ties. No matter how ridiculous that scrutiny is. They are willing to let their record stand.
I don't know about you, but I have made more than my share of mistakes. I have supported initiatives that I thought at the time were reasonable, only to discover that my zealousness was naïve. I have hotly defended a decision that I later wished I had weighed more carefully before making. I am not the same voter I was in 1972…and I would guess that most of the candidates are not the same public servants they were then either.
So why are they up there and why am I watching them with tears running down my cheeks on a mid-August afternoon in 2007.
I think it is because of hope. We were all there in 1972 (those of us old enough to vote) and so many of us were deeply disappointed - and to some extent felt deflated - by the election results later that November. .
But because of hope we haven't given up and it is hope that has kept us returning to the debates, the conventions, the rallies, and the polls. Hope holds our faith afloat as we wait for the resurrection of our dreams. Dreams of international peace-based cohabitation, socio-economic-enviromental responsiblity and global hand-holding all while singing:
"I'd like to teach the world to sing, in perfect harmony
I'd like to hold it in my arms, and keep it company…"
-Lea Solanga
If you are too young to remember that song…just ask your mother or grandmother to pull our her Gunnesax dress, weave daisies in her hair, and sing it with you on a mountainside. It's still a great song…even for those of us who have long since given up drinking sugary soft drinks. It still says, "We are all in this together and if we reach our arms (not nuclear arms, but the hugging kind) far enough we will find a way to live together on this big, beautiful, still somewhat blue, planet.
So before we attack one more candidate, from the safety of an armchair…because of a past indiscretion, a bad hair day, or a regretted vote on the floor of the Senate…let's please remember that their hope is alive, and well, and ready for yet another foray into the land of scrutiny for the sake of making this world a better place. Not just for their own children…or even our own children…but for the children in Darfur, Baghdad, Delhi, Detroit… It makes me weep with gratitude…and believe. But then…why shouldn't we?
"We believe in things that we cannot see
Why shouldn't we, why shouldn't we
Hands that heal can set a chained man free
Why shouldn't we, why shouldn't we
We believe in peace within every heart
Why shouldn't we, why shouldn't we
Burning brightly, brightly in the dark
Why shouldn't we, why shouldn't we
So come on darling feel your spirits rise
Come on children open up your eyes
God is all around
Buddha's at the gate
Allah hears your prayers
It's not too late
And we believe in things that will give us hope
Why shouldn't we, why shouldn't we
Let your voice be heard, celebrate your vote
Why shouldn't we, why shouldn't we
We believe in things that make us all the same
Why shouldn't we, why shouldn't we
Love belongs to all in deed and name
Why shouldn't we, why shouldn't we
And we believe in things that can't be done
Why shouldn't we, why shouldn't we
Lift up your heart, put down your gun
Why shouldn't we, why shouldn't we
We believe in things
We're told that we cannot change
Why shouldn't we
We had heroes once, and we will again
Why shouldn't we
So come on darling
Come on children
God is all around, Buddha's at the gate
Allah hears our prayers
It's not too late…"
- Mary Chapin Carpenter
It's never too late…to hope…
So...why shouldn't we?
Kate
[photo credit: Bernie Boston - The Washington Post]
