Where is the hope?

It’s hard to be hopeful when things really don’t feel very hopeful, isn’t it? I started writing this yesterday afternoon, before I’d seen the video of the Minneapolis police and what they did to unarmed George Floyd. We have to find a way to make this better.

I'd like to think I'm a fairly positive person. When I write, even if it’s not a happy topic, I like to end on a more positive note because that’s how I’m wired…I need to find the bright side of things. And yet, we’re in the middle of a global pandemic with no real end in sight. And we don’t know what the future holds as far as the rest of this year and school and other things that we think of as “normal.” And the man who is supposed to be leading our country is having a much better time dividing us, mocking his rivals, tweeting conspiracy theories, with little relief from his horribleness or lack of leadership in sight. And his defenders still defend him. And public health has become a political weapon; simple protective face masks weaponized in a weird new culture war. And the same people who a year ago insisted their right to bear arms at all costs was more important than our children’s right to be safe in their school now insist their right to a good time somehow supersedes yours or my right to feel safe when we leave our houses. And on and on and on. And I just don’t know how to find a hopeful note to end on when everything feels so hopeless.

I’m heartbroken for the mess we seem to be embroiled in: the vitriol spewed on social media comments by people on the extremes (and maybe not so extremes) and the awful things that are happening in the news: Covid deaths reaching over 100,000 and apparent disdain/disbelief of it, the murders of black men on video, disaster after disaster. With no end in sight for any of this ugliness, we’re like sideline players left to feel. And heal. It’s hard to find hope. Right now. But I don’t feel like all hope is lost.

Can you feel as though you’ve been sucked into a vortex of hopelessness and sadness, but not feel like you’ve lost all hope or feel sad all the time? How does that work? I think of it like this: There were some bad things that happened to me in childhood, but if you ask me, I would say (with complete honesty) that I had a happy childhood. These things aren’t mutually exclusive, are they?

What did people in other eras do when things felt this bad? Because in the history of our country, or all humankind for that matter, there have been times that have felt just as, or even more, devastatingly terrible. Young people facing angry mobs with rocks and other things hurtled at them as they integrated schools, Japanese families rounded up and stuck in internment camps, slavery, Civil War. 

I have friends who’ve intentionally been writing about the goodness of the world…that’s their gift and they do a great job of it. I want to find that hope and see things to be grateful for in every day life, too. Mr. Rogers reminded us to look for the helpers.  Laura Ingalls Wilder said, “As you read my stories of long ago I hope you will remember that things truly worthwhile and that will give you happiness are the same now as they were then. It is not the things you have that make you happy. It is love and kindness and helping each other and just plain being good.”

And Anne Frank was able to see the beauty in a world that locked her and her family in a tiny room for two years and ultimately killed most of them. “It's really a wonder that I haven't dropped all my ideals, because they seem so absurd and impossible to carry out. Yet I keep them, because in spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart,” she wrote. 

If Anne Frank can do that, so can I. The hope is there. So is the beauty. I don’t think we have to give up hope to care about the awfulness of what we see. But I do think we have to compartmentalize to avoid getting sucked into that vortex of despair. So I guess that’s what I’m going to do.

A Study In Contrasts (re: "Won't You Be My Neighbor")

This morning, I watched the “Today Show” as they profiled a campaign rally in Montana. The featured speaker, the 45th president of the United States, makes fun of of a US Senator’s heritage, makes winking jokes regarding the “#metoo movement,” picks on an elderly former US President and an ailing US Senator, both of whom served our country in times of war (while he received multiple “medical exemptions” from the Draft to avoid serving), tells lie after lie about things that just aren’t even remotely true. And the audience behind him? They are whooping it up, smiling, nodding, encouraging, cheering him on.

I felt like I was watching a scene out of a teen movie where the kids all laugh as the bully picks on the movie’s underdog (Remember Biff in “Back to the Future”? Or Johnny in the “Karate Kid”? And the way their friends stand in the background, laughing and taunting along with them?)

Feeling a little sick and a lot saddened, I wondered how we got here.

To this place we are in. Right now. I wondered what drives people to be so hate-driven that they have let their own values go by the wayside as they cheer on a man who has…
...bragged on tape about grabbing women in places he had no business touching;
...equated white supremacists with “very fine people”;
...mocked a reporter with a physical disability;
...allowed children to be torn from the arms of their parents who were seeking asylum in our country; 
...praised dictators and alienated allies;
...had multiple extra-marital affairs, yet jeered opponents for doing the same;
...encouraged the “birther” movement against a sitting US President;
...made bigoted statements regarding citizens of numerous specific countries and religions; ...endorsed politicians who have been known for their bigotry, sexism and pedophile tendencies;
...and much more...

A few hours later, I went to see the “Won’t You Be My Neighbor” documentary, a profile of Fred Rogers. Mr. Rogers, to be sure, was an icon of my childhood. I have strong memories of watching “Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood” (probably long after it was socially acceptable for someone my age to do so). I loved his characters, the lessons he taught and his gentleness.

And as I watched this beautifully made film, heard the words directly from his mouth, his family and those who worked with him, I was struck again and again by how much I really miss Mr. Rogers. What he spoke and advocated for are exactly what we are missing in this time. This show, from its very roots in 1968 (a tumultuous time for our country), is incredibly relevant today. Right now. In the first week of his show, he taught that we don’t need walls to keep people out. He spoke of kindness for others. Acceptance. Yes, he made mistakes that I am certain he wouldn’t make today in regards to acceptance for all, but that doesn’t take away from what he did during his time.

He spoke of the human need for love. For meaningful relationships and for people to feel needed, worthwhile, heard. Oddly, he was ridiculed for this stance, as the root cause of “the entitlement of kids today.” (this is a topic for another post at another time...but I will write it one day, I’m sure!).

Not surprising to most people who know me, I cried as “Won’t You Be My Neighbor” ended. Cried for the man that has gone, and the values he espoused. Wondering what he would say if he were alive today. Would his words resonate? Would we listen to him? Would those who cheered at that rally be moved by him? I left thinking, “We need a new Mr. Rogers...who can be that be?” Who can come in as a strong, passionate personality that can change the discourse as we know it?

I posted the following on Facebook immediately after leaving the movie: “After seeing “Won’t You Be My Neighbor” this afternoon, I realize how desperately we need someone to step in and fill the void left behind by Mr Rogers.” I know many who could fit the bill. I work with them...passionate teachers, strong leaders, great parents, clergy people who speak truth and know how to reach large audiences...people who care deeply for and about others. How lucky I am to know such people. I’m sure you know some, too.

But then, while I think that, yes, a new Mr. Rogers would be a great gift to us all, I think that maybe what we really need, is to dig deep and find the Mr. Rogers in ourselves. If we’d all channel our own Mr. Rogers, we’d be so much better off. Maybe we could start a movement! Mr. Rogers once said, “We live in a world in which we need to share responsibility. It's easy to say ‘It's not my child, not my community, not my world, not my problem.’ Then there are those who see the need and respond. I consider those people my heroes.”

If we all stand up for kindness, love, compassion...can we make a change? What would it take? How do we reach those who cheer for and stand by someone who uses his persona as a platform for hatred and anger. How do we get them to see that they don’t get their value or worth from that and that people like that use them as an ends to their own selfish means?

In 1999, as Mr. Rogers was honored at the Television Hall of Fame, he spoke of the value of life and the responsibility of television going forward into this millennium to show the good in the world. He said, “But how do we make goodness attractive? By doing whatever we can do to bring courage to those whose lives move near our own – by treating our ‘neighbor’ at least as well as we treat ourselves and allowing that to inform everything that we produce.” What I really wish as our tv screens and social media walls fill with more shared images of hard, scary things in the world, is that we will rise strong, find our inner Mr. Rogers voice, look for the helpers and say, “Stop. Enough. We’re going to make goodness attractive starting right now.”