Ablaze with Dandelions

“It is time to heed the words of the man I began this whole thing with: John Lewis. I beg folks to take his example of his early days when he made himself determined to show his love for his country at a time the country didn’t love him, to love this country so much, to be such a patriot that he endured beatings, savagely, on the Edmund Pettus bridge, at lunch counters, on freedom rides. He said he had to do something. He would not normalize a moment like this. He would not just go along with business as usual. He wouldn’t know how to solve it, but there’s one thing that he would do, that I hope we all can do, that I think I did a little bit of tonight.

“He said for us to go out and cause some good trouble, necessary trouble, to redeem the soul of our nation. I want you to redeem the dream…. Let’s be bolder in America with a vision that inspires with hope. It starts with the people of the United States of America—that’s how this country started: ‘We the people.’ Let’s get back to the ideals that others are threatening, let's get back to our founding documents…. Those imperfect geniuses had some very special words at the end of the Declaration of Independence…when our founders said we must mutually pledge, pledge to each other ‘our lives, our fortunes, and our Sacred Honor.’ We need that now from all Americans. This is a moral moment. It’s not left or right, it's right or wrong.

“Let’s get in good trouble.

“My friend, madam president, I yield the floor.”

— Senator Cory Booker (D- New Jersey)

With those words, Senator Cory Booker of New Jersey ended a 25-hour speech before the Senate last week. By now it’s old news how he stood, yes stood, for 25 hours, holding the floor of the Senate, while he spoke about the cascade of threats to American democracy the current administration has been unleashing on more than a daily basis ever since January 20. Some have called Booker’s speech a filibuster, but, technically speaking, it wasn’t that. A filibuster is a long speech aimed at preventing a specific piece of legislation from coming to a vote. When legislators filibuster, they typically use any means within their grasp (reading from the telephone book being the most often cited) to keep words flowing from their lips. The filibuster is meant to eat up time. The words themselves do not matter; wasting time is the whole point.

Senator Booker did something entirely different. His speech wasn’t aimed at a specific piece of legislation. Instead, his remarks were aimed at the state of crisis the current administration has created here in America and around the world. He condemned the anti-democratic, illegal, unconstitutional actions of the current administration. Rather than uttering long strings of nonsense words simply to chew away hours and hours of time, he crafted cogent arguments, relying on his staffers to bring him materials to read that he had prepared in advance. He said,

"In just 71 days, the president of the United States has inflicted so much harm on Americans’ safety, financial stability, the core foundations of our democracy, and even our aspirations as a people."

And then he enumerated how. You may agree or disagree with what he said, but, in my opinion, he deserves credit for laying out his views, especially at a time when it can feel perilous to state views opposing the administration.

Here is why I especially celebrate Senator Booker’s speech: He brought to the Senate floor the voices of his constituents. Instead of simply stating his own thoughts, he read letters from New Jersey residents who have reached out to him asking for his help in turning the tide of destruction. The fact he read the words of his constituents into the Congressional record filled me with hope. If that one Senator could listen and then take the time to bring the people’s voices forward, then perhaps others will, too.

Over and over again in recent weeks, I have heard politicians, pundits, historians, and others stress over and over again that here in America it’s the people who have the power. The Constitution begins with the words, We the People, they say. And, technically speaking, that’s true. Those who serve in government only do so with the consent of the governed, they say. And, technically speaking, that’s true. Cory Booker himself said,

“In this democracy, the power of people is greater than the people in power.”

Over and over again in recent weeks, I have heard others echo those sentiments. And, yes, technically speaking, those sentiments are true.

But what is also true, at least for me, is that I’m not feeling that power of the people most of the time. Personally, too often I feel powerless and voiceless. I haven’t given my consent to anything that has happened lately. Quite the opposite. I have written a bazillion emails about issues, pieces of legislation, cabinet appointees, and more — and I feel as though I am spitting in the wind most days.

But last week there was Cory Booker giving voice to real people, We the People, right there on the Senate floor. That gave me a kind of hope I have been thirsting after for weeks now. In the end, Senator Booker exhorted us all to go out and cause what John Lewis called “some good trouble” — the kind of good trouble that buoys up our country instead of laying it low, the kind of good trouble that reminds us of our highest aspirations, the kind of good trouble that seeks to answer that clarion call that 19th century Unitarian minister Theodore Parker channeled when he said:

“I do not pretend to understand the moral universe, the arc is a long one, my eye reaches but little ways. I cannot calculate the curve and complete the figure by the experience of sight; I can divine it by conscience. But from what I see I am sure it bends towards justice.”

I know, I know, it surely seems as though that moral arc of the universe takes a lot of detours sometimes. So many detours that it can feel as though maybe I am just going on faith that it bends towards justice. But based on that faith, this past weekend, I participated in my local “Hands Off” rally (which drew an estimated 1000 or so people from my relatively small town and the surrounding area). There, finally, I felt gathered together with We the People. In the assembled crowd, spurred to action by many emotions — anger, fear, disgust, and more — I felt a surge of hope, power, and even joy.

My town.

And then I read the news reports coming in from all over the country — and even the rest of the world. Large crowds here, large crowds there. Large crowds even in traditionally red areas. Large crowds even in cities being deluged with rain. No violence. No vandalism. No arrests.

So there you are. We the People making good trouble.

I don’t know where this is going, but I do know this: Good things emerge when people find their voices in support of justice. Good things emerge when people find their courage, even in times when there is much to fear. Good things emerge when We the People join hands to continue to forge, create, and recreate a more perfect union. Good things emerge from good trouble. So I look forward to tomorrow, to the next good thing, to the next courageous voice that speaks the words of freedom against the onslaught of tyranny. I know that voice is there.

April 5^th, by Lynn Ungar

I don't know how this all turns out,

and neither do you,

but I have to confess it doesn't look good.

I wish we were headed

for a picnic, for a waltz in the park. I wish

we were not ruled by broken men

who want to damage everything

that they cannot possess. I wish

I could tell you what we do now.

The street is littered with the petals

of cherries that bloomed before

the big wind came. Tonight

there will be frost, and tender buds

will burn. But still, the woods

are unfolding into green,

and just outside my door some frog

is bellowing for all he's worth.

Who knows what happens next?

All I can tell you is that the fields

are ablaze with dandelions

who have never known

the meaning of defeat.

Yours in good trouble.

Love,

Sylvia