Liberals and Cynicism

I've seen evidence that Obama's speech this week has affected people - on both the right and left of the political spectrum. But as soon as you hear folks acknowledging that what he said has had an impact, they will most often follow that by saying "but it won't last."

Of course, they're right. And to feel the need to say that indicates an unrealistic view of change and how it happens. The vitriol in our political discourse will not be dealt with by one good speech. For some, it will spark a backlash. We've seen that from many on the right. And for others, its hard to change patterns of behavior. That will take time and practice.

I suppose its a good thing that people even want this kind of change to happen. But we're so infected with this idea of instant gratification, that we often get discouraged too easily and then become cynical.

Tim Wise wrote beautifully about this a while ago in an article titled The Threat of a Good Example: Reflections on Hope and Tenacity.

Sometimes I think we both oversell and undersell the notion of fighting for social justice. Oversell in that we focus so much on "winning" the battle in which we're engaged, that we often create false hope, and when as often happens, victory is limited or not at all, those in whom we nurtured the hope feel spent, unable to rise again to the challenge.

Yet we undersell the work too, in that we often neglect to remind folks that there is redemption in struggle itself, and that "victory," though sought, is not the only point, and is never finally won anyway. Even when you succeed in obtaining a measure of justice, you're always forced to mobilize to defend that which you've won. There is no looming vacation. But there is redemption in struggle.

We are so caught up in a culture of competition that sometimes we can forget that very little of this kind of change comes with a "win" and miss the lessons of the struggle. I have a hard time with this myself. That's why for years my blogging sig line was this quote from Gandhi:

Almost everything you do will seem insignificant, but it is important that you do it.

This is why its important to recognize Obama's long game and why he keeps reminding us that change is hard. Very often since his speech this week I've remembered this simple and yet profound poem.

Success

To laugh often and much;
to win the respect of intelligent people
and the affection of children;
to earn the appreciation of honest critics
and endure the betrayal of false friends;
to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others;
to leave the world a bit better,
whether by a healthy child,
a garden patch
or a redeemed social condition;
to know even one life has breathed easier
because you have lived.
This is to have succeeded.

If each one of us could embrace the truth of those words, we would "be the change we want to see in the world."

What does it mean to be "an American?" Revisited

Over two years ago I wrote about Henry Cejudo and asked, "What does it mean to be an American?"

This week, I'm hoping that many others are asking that same question after hearing the blessing at the Tucson memorial service by Carlos Gonzales.

He opened his blessing, as he said, in the traditional way by introducing himself.

I am Carlos Gonzalez. On my mother's side, I am Mexican. A child of descendants of this valley, pioneer family from Mexico that came in the 1800s. On my father's side, I'm Yaqui. Refugees from Mexico that escaped the genocide in the Rio Yaqui in the 1800s.

We have been here -- for myself, I am fifth generation in the valley of Tucson.

Much of our teaching of history ignores the fact that white people first took over land that was populated by Mexicans. The Mexican-American War took place from 1846-1848 and resulted in the United States incorporating much of the territory formerly claimed by Mexico.

The Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, signed on February 2, 1848, by American diplomat Nicholas Trist and Mexican plenipotentiary representatives Luis G. Cuevas, Bernardo Couto, and Miguel Atristain, ended the war and gave the U.S. undisputed control of Texas, established the U.S.-Mexican border of the Rio Grande River, and ceded to the United States the present-day states of California, Nevada, Utah, New Mexico, most of Arizona and Colorado, and parts of Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, and Wyoming.

So whether we are talking about the values of family and opportunity expressed in the life of Henry Cejudo or the history of people like Carlos Gonzales, what it means to be an American certainly incorporates their story. They are wonderful examples of who it is we claim to be.

Unison Benediction by May Sarton

Return to the most human,
nothing less will nourish the torn spirit,
the bewildered heart,
the angry mind:
and from the ultimate duress,
pierced with the breath of anguish,
speak of love.

Return, return to the deep sources,
nothing less will teach the stiff hands a new way to serve,
to carve into our lives the forms of tenderness
and still that ancient necessary pain preserve.

Return to the most human,
nothing less will teach the angry spirit,
the bewildered heart;
the torn mind,
to accept the whole of its duress,
and pierced with anguish…
at last, act for love.

Father, Husband, President

From John Dickerson:

More than eloquence, the president also offered an argument, one he has been making for years. Aides say Obama stayed up all night working on the speech. We know that's his way. But the speech wasn't just the product of an all-nighter. It came from someone who thinks about children and the obligations of being a parent, who knows how it feels to be startled by your desperate love for a spouse whom you might have taken for granted in the rush of the day.

The president may not be emotional. But you can't write that speech if you're all ice water.

What do we want in a president? The office has become so misshapen it's hard to say what it doesn't encompass. Giving speeches isn't the entire job, of course. But if part of the job requirement is someone who reminds us that our public life can reflect our best private selves, then Obama showed that he is up to it. He has been thinking about that idea long before this tragedy called for a speech about it. The test for all of us is to do the same after the applause has died down.

A few changes

If there's anyone out there who has actually visited this blog more than once (lol), you'll notice that I have done some remodeling. Between being a bit of a change-junky and how easy they've made it to do this kind of thing, I expect that I'll get the bug to do it every now and then.

Also, I changed the comment settings a couple of weeks ago. Should make it a bit easier to talk back at me. So feel free to leave your thoughts.

And now...a little Stevie Ray Vaughn.

Obama's Speech and the Power of Story

After Barack Obama won the Iowa primary, there was a lot of talk about how he'd used his community organizing background to set up his winning ground game. I got curious about all of that and began to read almost everything I could about what that meant. I learned that a man by the name of Marshall Ganz, who had been involved with the Civil Rights Movement as well as with Cesar Chavez and the United Farmworkers, was responsible for Camp Obama. So I read everything I could about/by him.

One of the things Ganz talks about is the power of story. In fact, he uses Obama's speech at the 2004 Democratic Convention (video) as an example of how to use story to motivate action.

He explains that action requires breaking through the inertia of habit and that we do that by creating the tension between the way the world is and the way we want it to be. That tension can inspire despair or hope. How do we inspire the later instead of the former?

Hope is not only audacious, it is substantial. Hope is what allows us to deal with problems creatively. In order to deal with fear, we have to mobilize hope. Hope is one of the most precious gifts we can give each other and the people we work with to make change.

The way we talk about this is not just to go up to someone and say, “Be hopeful.” We don’t just talk about hope and other values in abstractions. We talk about them in the language of stories because stories are what enable us to communicate these values to one another.

Ganz then talks about the three elements of stories that lead to action:

1. The story of self

We all have a story of self. What’s utterly unique about each of us is not the categories we belong to; what’s utterly unique to us is our own journey of learning to be a full human being, a faithful person. And those journeys are never easy. They have their challenges, their obstacles, their crises. We learn to overcome them, and because of that we have lessons to teach. In a sense, all of us walk around with a text from which to teach, the text of our own lives.

2. The story of us

The second story is the story of us. That’s an answer to the question, Why are we called? What experiences and values do we share as a community that call us to what we are called to? What is it about our experience of faith, public life, the pain of the world, and the hopefulness of the world? It’s putting what we share into words.

3. The story of now

Finally, there’s the story of now-the fierce urgency of now. The story of now is realizing, after the sharing of values and aspirations, that the world out there is not as it ought to be. Instead, it is as it is. And that is a challenge to us. We need to appreciate the challenge and the conflict between the values by which we wish the world lived and the values by which it actually does. The difference between those two creates tension. It forces upon us consideration of a choice. What do we do about that? We’re called to answer that question in a spirit of hope.

As I reflected more on President Obama's speech in Tuscon, I realized that he was using this "power of story" to induce that tension in all of us between the way the world is and the way we want it to be.

But this time the story of self became the stories of the people we lost last weekend and the heroism many demonstrated that day. He told their stories beautifully. And then he made their stories - our stories.

For those who were harmed, those who were killed –- they are part of our family, an American family 300 million strong. We may not have known them personally, but surely we see ourselves in them. In George and Dot, in Dorwan and Mavy, we sense the abiding love we have for our own husbands, our own wives, our own life partners. Phyllis –- she’s our mom or our grandma; Gabe our brother or son. In Judge Roll, we recognize not only a man who prized his family and doing his job well, but also a man who embodied America’s fidelity to the law.

And in Gabby -- in Gabby, we see a reflection of our public-spiritedness; that desire to participate in that sometimes frustrating, sometimes contentious, but always necessary and never-ending process to form a more perfect union.

And in Christina -- in Christina we see all of our children. So curious, so trusting, so energetic, so full of magic. So deserving of our love. And so deserving of our good example.

And with that, he was able to call on our better angels - the ones that we share with those we lost.

If this tragedy prompts reflection and debate -- as it should -- let’s make sure it’s worthy of those we have lost. Let’s make sure it’s not on the usual plane of politics and point-scoring and pettiness that drifts away in the next news cycle.

The loss of these wonderful people should make every one of us strive to be better. To be better in our private lives, to be better friends and neighbors and coworkers and parents. And if, as has been discussed in recent days, their death helps usher in more civility in our public discourse, let us remember it is not because a simple lack of civility caused this tragedy -- it did not -- but rather because only a more civil and honest public discourse can help us face up to the challenges of our nation in a way that would make them proud.

We should be civil because we want to live up to the example of public servants like John Roll and Gabby Giffords, who knew first and foremost that we are all Americans, and that we can question each other’s ideas without questioning each other’s love of country and that our task, working together, is to constantly widen the circle of our concern so that we bequeath the American Dream to future generations.

They believed -- they believed, and I believe that we can be better. Those who died here, those who saved life here –- they help me believe. We may not be able to stop all evil in the world, but I know that how we treat one another, that’s entirely up to us.

And I believe that for all our imperfections, we are full of decency and goodness, and that the forces that divide us are not as strong as those that unite us.

That’s what I believe, in part because that’s what a child like Christina Taylor Green believed.

He gave us back our hope in ourselves.

Grief...and a vision

While others were busy trying to tell us who is to blame, Obama shared our grief...and a vision of our better selves.

I believe we can be better. Those who died here, those who saved lives here – they help me believe. We may not be able to stop all evil in the world, but I know that how we treat one another is entirely up to us. I believe that for all our imperfections, we are full of decency and goodness, and that the forces that divide us are not as strong as those that unite us.