Still Growing - A story of yesterday, today and tomorrow in America

Last week I started an essay in my head, a reflection on this land, America. The words stayed within me. Knocking. Tasks abounded. I sat to write last night and the time was not mine. I awoke with the words and was to find that the delay allowed my words to be framed by the fullness of today. 

This post is not about my faith. My faith is integral to me, though. And my faith runs through me, fills me, as I write this. 

I pulled into my small-town fire station early this morning, the 1st Tuesday of November 2020 with the remaining scent of the NY early-season October snow lingering in the air and over 24 hours of gusty wind slowly settling. There was a dark grey sky, chilly wind, a sprinkle of rain off and on, and a line that wrapped around the building, a 1 hour and 45 minute wait to cast a vote. Even in our small town, the line of people was diverse - in clothing, culture, race and, I'm sure, election preferences. We all waited. 

People smiled at one another with their eyes above the many-colored and styled masks. We watched a toddler. We discussed the weather and our wanting warmth. Around the bend of the sidewalk, a gentleman with a Yankees hat stood a few people away from a gentleman with a Mets hat on. Baseball lovers. The man behind me wished he'd filled his coffee cup. I texted Chris, who would be arriving after me, and asked him to pick up a cup of coffee for the gentleman. He likes it without sugar or milk. I didn't know him or who he would vote for. I knew he was cold and wanted coffee. When Chris arrived, people behind me encouraged him to go ahead and stand in line with me after giving the man his coffee, rather than going to the back of the line (another 45 minutes or so). He opted not to. They thanked him. They didn't know him or me. 

 The man in front of me asked if I would post a picture on social media to declare I had voted. I said I didn't think I would, but that I might share that the experience of the calm line seemed a symbol America would be okay no matter what. A man across from me raised his coffee cup, "I'll drink to that.".  

I'm sure I stood amidst some voting in a presidential election for the first time. I may have stood by those still not confident in their decision. How many were filled with hope or worry? There was so much beauty in that 1 hour and 45-minute wait with a section of my small town, this country, this world.

The first natives of this land loved its bounties and its magnificence. They established themselves in groups, communities to share resources and knowledge. They worked the land and tamed it, weathering the harshness with perseverance and grit. Even in their love of life and land, they drew boundaries and fought against one another. They also learned to make peace.

When the first colonialists set forth for this land, they did so with an expectation of something new, a pursuit of freedom from societal and governmental judgment and persecution. They carried with them their own judgment, though. They pointed fingers and formed exclusionary groups. Their legs and consciences wobbled beneath them, even as they explored courage. I think, perhaps, that is true of us all. Our country's native inhabitants suffered great losses as the country was colonized. Division and devastation. There was also cooperation, efforts to communicate in different languages. Sharing.

When the founders of America, fought for its independence, they did so with their eyes on words such as freedom and equality. And with the war won and the country new, the founders fought one another. They bitterly bickered. Headlines spread dismay. The mail carried words of fire. They derided one another, even to the point of ending up in duels to settle differences of opinion. Duels that ended in grave injury and death. They fell short of their goals. Yet, amidst it, they created a system whereby "the people" could make decisions, as differences of opinion lived side by side. 

But so much growth was needed. And the growing pains were fierce.

Efforts for true equality have come, however slow or misguided they may seem/be at times.

This land and its inhabitants have a history of reaching, trying, slipping, falling, and growing. 

We, America, will continue to grow with growing pains.

On my afternoon run, I passed between two houses, one on either side of the road, two different political candidate signs in their front yards. Neither yard looked greener or bigger. Neither house looked any more welcoming than the other. Two houses. One home. America. 

Whatever the results of this election, come what may, we will continue to grow, as different as what the vision of that may be to different people. We will make mistakes. We're still learning.  

While we cannot change the entire trajectory of what will transpire or the discourse that will occur on the many, many communication platforms that exist, we can be lights. We can live the ideals (freedom, equality, respect) of our country in our individual lives, in the actions we take, and the words we choose. We can grow in our understanding of one another. We can strive to believe in one another by sharing and listening. Over disregard, we can be knowledge. Over fear, we can be hope. Over division, we can be love. 

That can be our legacy. 2020.