Tentatively, she approaches with her question.
I am no longer shy. After suffering with that affliction for far too long, I resolved – one long ago New Year’s Eve – to no longer be reserved. I remain, however, both carefully guarded of my privacy and sensitive to the hesitancy of others to come forward.
I smile and probably make some inane comment about the weather or something, I don’t recall. Whatever I said was meant to open the door, not to be remembered. She smiles back. And so the conversation begins.
In a nutshell, what she wants to know is what she can do to make a difference in her community. She has something specific in mind and thinks that my being a journalist gives me a leg up on the subject. Perhaps it should. But, as the wife of clergy, I long ago learned to protect my wonderful husband by never talking politics or religion.
Some things, like toothbrushes, aren’t meant to be shared except with the people with whom you are most intimate. No doubt you notice I have neither mentioned the lady’s name, nor the subject of the change or status quo she is trying to protect. The long and short of it is that it doesn’t matter. What she wants to know is how, and the answer to that question doesn’t change much with the nature or subject of the controversy.
The ability to affect change is the very first thing our forefathers ensured all those who would come later would have the power to do. They did it by way of a document called the First Amendment.
It was never meant to be something you learn about but never apply to your own life. Rather, the First Amendment was meant to be used. Now I’m not promoting standing on a street corner waving banners or otherwise disturbing the quiet enjoyment of our streets. (Nor am I suggesting, however, that sometimes there isn’t a time and place for that). It just never was, nor ever will be, my thing.
Frankly, other than giving people a chance to blow off some steam in a more or less appropriate fashion, I don’t think that kind of protest does much. But that is simply my never-to-be-humble opinion.
I believe in the power of words, politely and repeatedly spoken to the community as a whole and specifically to the people who are empowered to do something about the ills we observe and want remedied.
So if “it” has you riled up enough to grumble, speak up. But for goodness’ sake, find a positive way to do it. It is selfish to say you want or don’t want something without first taking a moment to see the issue from the other perspective and to offer a constructive resolution. It doesn’t have to be anything grand.
For example, rather than “I don’t want a sober living home on my street” (which I truly don’t), remember that there is a need. I’m all for giving people who honestly want to turn their lives around a safe place to live during those ever-so-important first months, but . . .
Putting a recovery home immediately next door to a bar is tantamount to undermining its residents from the outset. Placing a sober living residence where presently planned, likewise, damages the community – which more than ever needs home values stabilized.
Undermining local home values in the long run will not help anyone find jobs here.
Besides, placing individuals struggling with drugs and alcohol abuse in a family neighborhood without giving those neighbors notice, and an opportunity to be heard, creates an atmosphere of distrust. Neighborly relations are not built from a foundation of suspicion. It’s not good for people on either end of the equation.
You see, first you lay out the problem logically and without emotion. Just state the simple facts. Then move on to a solution.
Wouldn’t it make more sense to find a home more on the outskirts of town, where free time can be productively used tending a garden or animals – and perhaps enjoying long walks or vistas that elicit positive artistic expression? Couldn’t we re-route our local bus system, as limited as it may be, to wherever the facility ends up, so residents can easily get to and from town? By and large, the buses don’t run when the bars are open, helping to reduce temptations.
Furthermore, aren’t those on their way to sober living more likely to be accepted as valuable neighbors in the community if the first response isn’t: Keep them away from my home and my kids?
Okay, that’s just an example – and not on the topic of the conversation that prompted this commentary. But it leads to the next question: What do you do with those words once you’ve composed them? Don’t tell my editor I said this, but start by sending letters (notice the plural) to your local newspaper.
If there is something in your community that needs attention called to it, speak up, speak out, speak often. Write your local paper, write your local political representatives, write local organizations that serve or work with whoever or whatever the “it” is. For that matter, write to “it” as well.
And when you’re done, do it again (and again, for however long it takes.)
Change happens when someone makes it happen. If you aren’t the someone who can make the change, then be the someone who motivates it. Use the First Amendment; that’s what it is there for.
Speak up. It is not only your right, but also a privilege and an obligation.