The Signs in the Garage

I've always been interested in history.  That we've traveled to locations where history was made, where civilizations grew and fell, has been one of the great gifts in my life.  Our first trip to Europe stunned me with buildings and places that existed long before America was established.  Last winter's trip to Israel really knocked my socks off with its intersection of ancient and biblical history, not to mention the genesis of Christianity and Judaism.  I'm still working that through.

As a youngster, history was a series of stories that happened to the long dead who either 1) made some outstanding choices or b) really fucked up.  (Obviously there is middle ground there, too.)  For the main, I liked to believe that my forebearers operated out of number 1).  Naturally my familial line would have thrown in with those whose decisions and actions only served to improve the lot of all.  And face it, when you're in elementary school, the good sisters spent minimal time on the horrors because, after all, that was the work of the devil and we were dedicating our lives to the glory of God.  

Just because you choose not to pay attention to the horrors does not mean they don't exist.  Slowly I learned that ignoring them could, in fact, provide a medium by which they would fester and grow.  They wouldn't simply go away.  "Don't pay any attention to that" was not then, and as we all have learned over the past years, is not now sufficient to effect the change we want to see in the world.

I believe I first felt the shift from my "we're the good guys" stance when I learned about Kristallnacht because now, things were getting a little too close for comfort.  The Nazis were not only persecuting German Jews; they were doing the same in Poland.  My family heritage is Polish Catholic.  I had grown up with the understanding there were 2 types of people in the world: Catholics and Publics.  I found myself wondering how Kristallnacht could have happened.  Did the Catholics tell themselves and their children "Don't pay any attention to that?"  And I started asking myself, if I had been there, would I have shut my door and drawn my curtains?  Would I have said stop? 

Of course I like to think I would have.  My mother used to call me Crusader Rabbit growing up because I regularly attempted to dig into activities where change was the intended result.  I usually had higher expectations than results.

I like to think I am brave.  I like to believe my actions make a difference.  I tell myself that I can be the hands and feet and voice of Christ in the world every day.  But what does that look like?  During the Just Faith Ministries classes I took this past summer and fall focusing on faith and racial equity and faith and racial healing, I hammered that question home with myself, with the grace and patience of my fellow seekers (all on Zoom, of course).  The feelings of impotence I continue to experience as I look around myself, my community, state, nation, world have driven me to tears, depths of frustration...and signs in the garage.

The political pundits and talking heads have been working on overtime this past week, as well they should.  (Must admit it was great to see the Kornacki Cam Tuesday night for the Georgia election.  Gotta love that guy.)  Heaps of praise on President Elect Biden for calling out the blatant disparities between the police response to this summer's Black Lives Matter protests and the insurrection at the Capital on Wednesday.  I heard his statements as a bugle call to the country: this will not be tolerated.  Good on you, Joe Biden (I love the way VP Kamala Harris says his name).  

The pundits are reminding 'us' who believe we are 1) (see above) that over 70 million people voted for Donald Trump.  It was never going to be that everything would be infinitely better after January 20, 2021.  So what will even minisculely  better look like?  Where will 'we' begin?

My pebble in the pond these past months have been signs in the garage windows. (Actually, this sign has been in the front yard for nearly 2 years:)

In early June, following the murder of George Floyd, I joined my friend Kathy at a busy intersection, holding up protest signs.  

From there, I taped up these signs in the garage windows, motivated by the belief that if I keep my beliefs to myself, then my door is shut and my curtains drawn.

Both the Spousal Unit™ and I received favorable comments from people in our neighborhood about the signs, which confirms for me this is the right thing to do.  I did worry they might be offensive to some.  And then I decided, maybe someone will ask me about them and a dialogue could begin.  So far that hasn't happened, but who knows?  (I was warned about my Amy Klobuchar bumper sticker on my car when we were in Florida, but it also began conversations with neighbors in the complex.  Doors and windows open a sliver. 

I'm blogging today about the signs in the garage as a "where do we go from here."  As Robert Frost once wrote, "The woods are lovely, dark and deep.  But I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep."  Perhaps we can view the woods we seem to be lost in as lovely, in addition to dark and deep.  Figuring out where we go from here, mayhaps, can be construed as promises to keep--to ourselves first, then demonstrably to others.  As a country, I see we have miles to go and I hope it's time we courageously and bravely resolve to take visible baby steps.