O Pioneers! (With Apologies To Willa Cather)

2020 can now be measured in hours, and those hours can't be counted down fast enough for me.  I vividly recall New Year's Day a year ago, the lion's share of which was spent in an emergency veterinary hospital in a sadly futile effort to save the life of our diabetic cat.  Moral of that story:  when G-d gives you a big hint on New Year's Day of what kind of year lies ahead, believe Him.

I've spent a good deal of time today thinking about what I should say to sum up the year, to point us toward the future in a positive way.  I know there's no way to sugar-coat what we've all been through, nor would I even attempt such an effort.  I do, however, think that I can talk about the way forward in a positive manner.  But caveat lector:  I didn't, and will not, say anything about it being easy.

Among the many losses of beloved public figures in 2020, the loss of David Dinkins, the first African American mayor of New York City, looms large in my mind for a number of reasons.  In part, that's because, in a year that highlighted the country's structural racism to an extent that cannot be reversed, he is a reminder of what can be accomplished when people are willing to fight that racism, as is Barack Obama.  Much as the unprecedented level of voter turnout, in a year of pandemic and poverty, is a reminder of what can be accomplished when the majority of Americans refuse to take democracy for granted.

Dinkins, and Obama, were pioneers in a nation built on the work of generations of pioneers.  We tend to romanticize what it means to be a pioneer.  Our culture depicts our forbearers in highly sanitized ways, making it seem not much different than a road trip or a camp-out.  But make no mistake:  being a pioneer has always meant being willing to sacrifice one's comfort and even one's safety in the service of a larger goal.  Those who can before us endured disease and death, over years and decades, and often did not live to see the fruits of their sacrifices.  But they were willing to look beyond themselves, believe in a world that did not exist, and give everything they could to make it real.  And they succeeded.

Dinkins was reviled by conservative (translation:  white) forces, especially by the Rupert Murdoch-owned New York Post, and was denounced as a failure by those forces when he was replaced after a single term by the current President's mouthpiece, Rudy Giuliani.  Yet, in hindsight, it's clear that he laid the groundwork for much of the changes in the city that Giuliani subsequently took enormous and substantially undeserved credit for accomplishing.  You can read about Dinkins' work here.  In the end, even the Post lionized Dinkins in reporting his death.

My point?

Being a pioneer is hard work.  But being a pioneer is necessary work.  And the need for pioneer work never ends.  And, in a country with our history, we owe it to those who have gone before us, and those who will follow us, to be willing to make sacrifices as well, especially since we have received so much from those who have gone before.  In the relay race of life, our primary job is to hand off the baton in good shape, hopefully in even better shape, to the runners in the next generation.

And, while I hate to say this, I have no choice:  Donald Trump, and the suicidal hatred of government off of which he feeds, aren't going to go away in 2021.  There truly is no rest for the weary.  There is going to be a runoff election in Georgia next week that will determine not just whether we can make progress in addressing our long term problems, but whether we will even get past the short-term (hopefully, pu! pu! pu!) problem of the pandemic.  If you want to make a difference in that election, and especially if you have not done so already, please click here and here.  (Yes, both of them.)

And, above all, no matter what happens in the runoff, stay involved.  Take nothing for granted.  Being a citizen in a democracy is always a full-time job.  I'm hoping that we've learned that this year to a degree that has never been reached before.

Don't be afraid of the price of being a pioneer.  Be afraid of the cost of not being one.

That's how to make the New Year, and those that follow, worth celebrating.

I wish all of you who have stopped by over the past 13 years to read TRH, and those who have not, the happiest and healthiest 2021 possible.  I am grateful to all of you.  I look forward to what all of us will achieve together.

Dum spiro spero.