Wearing the human factor in full view
As a seasoned writer of opinions for a number of newspapers, the challenge for commentators — since President-elect Donald Trump is headed back to the Oval Office — is not what to write about (on the contrary), but how best to join those 26 letters of the alphabet into words and sentences that bring awareness and consideration of all that is certain to unfold in both unpleasant and unfamiliar ways over the course of the next four years.
As I continue to divide my time between West Virginia (my home) and New York City (where my husband works to grow his business), what has been revealed to me as I talk with people from two seemingly different cultures is that what we have in common on a universal level is very much not what separates us but what brings us together in a journey fraught with certain peril.
To put it in succinct terms, it’s the recognition that the human factor cannot ever be eliminated from the equation. It is the core of who we are, what propels us forward, not in reverse. And it is what each of us carries in our back pockets and relies on heavily to point us in the right direction. It’s very much a part of our moral compass. Still, there are those who deny the very essence of its undeniable value. To even consider its absence is absurd. It’s also antithesis to the tenants of an American democracy.
And as I pen this commentary, my news feed has just revealed the following headline: Matt Gaetz withdraws from consideration as Trump’s attorney general amid sexual-misconduct allegations. What follows is a line-up of celebratory emoji sent to a colleague who will revel in the news as well.
While it’s only a single moment in time, it’s a most welcomed moment, considering all the moments of uncertainty that will follow over the course of the years to come. It is essential that we — each of us — make certain that every victory, regardless of its magnitude, is celebrated. That acceptance leads us to the realization that under no circumstances can we afford to make the choice to bury our heads in the sand, regardless of how attractive that option may be for so many of us who are, quite simply, exhausted.
Each of us must, to whatever degree we can, continue to “fight the good fight.” It’s vital to the continued health of our democracy. Too, it will serve us well in the preservation of our mental health. To do otherwise is simply not an option.
As I talk with people in New York City at bookstores and neighborhood eateries and grocery stores and on benches in Central Park, each is no different from conversations with folks in West Virginia, as I visit Taylor Books, Harding’s Family Restaurant, the Piggly Wiggly, or Coonskin Park. And that acknowledgement is powerful in itself.
The thread that binds these conversations is not one of economic prosperity or the acquisition of wealth (although a healthy economy is most definitely essential to our growth, both as individuals and as a country); instead, its focus revolves around the overwhelming challenges that a vast majority of our populace will face, if certain measures are indeed implemented: the rights of women to make their own choice about their reproductive rights, the rights of LGBTQ people, the rights of the marginalized in our society, the rights of those in need of health care, and the rights of those who all too often become sequestered in corners where they are not seen.
While these are only a handful of issues that so many American citizens face, we must continue to raise our voices in opposition to those who would attempt to silence these factions of society. Hold firm, let your voice be heard, and know that your refusal to surrender will make a difference; will matter. Your world cannot only be about your small corner of the world. It must also include those around you who struggle in ways you can’t even begin to imagine. Without pinning the human factor on your lapel you cannot be fully braced against the inclement weather of what is on the horizon.