Under the baobab: Spring brings hope, pandemic recovery and ‘leftover issues’ to confront
Spring is here. It’s time to breathe again. Like 80% of elders over 70, we have received our two inoculations against the dreaded virus. Adult neighbors are eligible to get in line for their shots. As Camille Dungy sings, “... the rising ecstasy of Spring ... This beauty ... is what we have hoped for. “
We were able to stroll, holding hands. Allen and College avenues never looked so beautiful. At The Arboretum at Penn State, we watched our beautiful young people, underdressed, laughing, squeezing nectar out of two Springs, one which was lost to last year’s sheltering, another peeking out like daffodils before the last snow on Mother’s Day. Spring! We must all relearn how to hug, to touch, to speak, to be with each other.
It is not over. Many of our fellow citizens have not been inoculated. Most people in the world are still living under the panic of the pandemic. That is particularly true of those living in marginalized cultures inside and outside of America. As we get it together, it is only right and just for us to reach out to help our other brothers and sisters.
This health crisis has revealed a lot about us. Our societal contours demarcated along racial, class, age and economic lines were revealed in high relief. Who got the disease, and more importantly, who got the vaccine and when, followed the usual fault lines. While in shutdown we conducted the most active election in history, as we fended off one or more adversaries who attempted to sabotage it. We survived the most severe economic recession since the ‘30s. We watched as the Black Lives Matter Movement, their allies and millions of other concerned citizens, dismantled some of the fundamental pillars of white supremacy. Oh, lest we forget, several thousand of our fellow citizens treacherously attempted to overthrow Congress. We know we will have to solve these and other challenges like global warming, infrastructure rebuilding, gun reform and management. I believe we can. It is our Spring.
Like most people our family has some leftover issues. We have been waiting for the pandemic to end so that we can bury our loved ones — a father, a best friend. There are others we have not yet fully mourned or celebrated in community. As a theater and performing artist we need to persuade our audiences to come back. As teachers we need to mend students’ scars developed from loneliness and isolation. Restaurants, pubs, bars and brick and mortar stores need to coax back their clientele. We need to fix our government on all levels.
First step?
I believe we have stopped listening to each other. Media pundits have become our prophets. They don’t tell us what is happening. Instead we are told how to think about what is happening. As the old indicators of identity and community wither, we have substituted political brands as new identities. It doesn’t matter whether you are a Republican, Democrat, Independent, man, woman, student, Christian, Jew, Muslim, rich, poor, or in between, you don’t have the answer. Our solution is not in your holy book, my ideology or even their Constitution. It’s a new world. Outdated solutions will not suffice. I believe it is time for real dialogue, which does not so much begin with talking. It starts with listening. Listen to the fears, the confusion, and the love in your own heart. Then you must understand, that same fear, confusion and love is in the heart of that person across the aisle and across the street. Then filled with empathy and compassion, risk sharing your heart not your opinion. Don’t be afraid. As Rita Dove says, “It’s not like it’s the end of the world — just the world as you think you know it.”