They say hope springs eternal in humanity. These days, I sometimes feel like I’d have to believe in magic to have a lot of hope. (I wonder how the sales of paranormal romances are doing right now.) It’s especially difficult when I hear a child psychiatrist say that one in four people under 24 have seriously contemplated suicide this year.
The year began innocently enough. My big concern in January was whether or not the RWA (Romance Writers of America) would implode. Now all that drama seems to belong to another lifetime, or at least like the prologue for the dystopian bestseller, 2020. And, since RWA did not implode, at least not exactly, maybe that prelude contains a trace of hope for how the year will end. A good writer might try to foreshadow how 2020 goes out that way. Last month I blogged about Covid being a villain cooked up by the 2020 writers’ room. Now I think its just another way to expose human nature. It’s presence saps hope, while exposing human beings who don’t care about each other. There are a lot of those, as witnessed by the super-spreader events we continue to witness, and sometimes attend, six months after this started.
I’m not ashamed to admit that some of the hope I do feel can be traced back to a prescription mood stabilizer my doctor prescribed. Normally, I radiate sunshine during spring and summer. Now, thanks to chemistry, I am surviving, and even finding strength to plug away at a new story.
As a black woman, this year has thrown me back into the sixties. The days when politicians like George Wallace yelled, “Segregation now, segregation forever!” Or the Children's March, where police set dogs after peaceful protesters, and firemen turned hoses powerful enough to strip bark from trees on children as young as six. Now police aim rubber bullets at the heads of chanting protesters seeking justice, and teargas a group of mothers lined up to protect them.
I am a writer, and I would never have dared put some of the hope-sapping events of this year in any book, much less all of them. I would never have killed off a smiling, enchanting hero like Chadwick Boseman, not to cancer. At least he lived long enough to make a lasting difference in the world. Countless young people, along with older people like myself, experienced a sense of awe and historical purpose while watching him play his historical roles on the big screen. He took kids suffering from cancer under his wing and tried to make their lives better while he losing his own. I hope he and his beautiful smile are reunited with the kids he lost and that they are all at peace now.
I feel hope about other heroes too. Thanks largely to the leadership embracing science, New York, once the state most heavily hit by Covid in the US, has kept its positivity rate under 1% for over a month. New York tests heavily. It shows the fallacy in the White House argument that testing causes the number of cases to increase. As a former scientist myself, I gain hope when I hear about others trusting facts over opinions.
Last, but absolutely not least, I feel hope when I see some of today’s titans, basketball players acknowledging that Black Lives Matter, and willingly place themselves on the line as human beings in the struggle for justice. The actions of the National Basketball Association has been one of the most hopeful of these last few months. Led by the players, they have raised awareness to the inequities black people are forced to live with and that black lives do indeed matter in this world. Now, basketball stadiums will be available as safe places for people to vote in November.
I do still worry, I know a lot of people do. Things may get worse before they even approach getting better. November will not be a fun month. But I am holding onto the hope that just like the RWA, America will not implode. That our lawmakers will see the need to stop squabbling and take care of our essential workers and those unemployed. That we the people will wise up and take care of ourselves and each other, so no more people will die unnecessarily.
If I could have hope for the future during the turbulent 60s, I can summon up a little more now. I’ve been attending virtual church every Sunday. Now that the service is online, I even attend more often. Big plus, instead of sliding in the back late and hoping no one notices, I am now upset when technical difficulties make the Zoom session start late. This past Sunday I even had home-made bread and orange juice for our regular first Sunday of the month Communion. Attending church, even on a screen, is one of the most hopeful things I do each week.
Now I'm off to grab a paranormal romance. I need a few magical creatures to believe in.
7 comments:
Love this post, B.A. and I also see hope in the places you do. I listened to a speech by Martin Luther King, III at the march on Washington commemorating the 57th anniversary of his father's speech at the Lincoln Memorial. One of the most powerful moments for me was when he compared that march when people came in bus loads unable to stop along the way to sleep, eat, or use the restrooms due to segregation...and still they came. Definitely more road to travel and it does give me hope to remind myself we have made some progress. Not enough. that's for sure...and as long as we keep moving forward we will reach our goal. Enjoy that paranormal romance! I'm learning about divination card reading to keep my hope alive.
Great post. I grew up in Washington, D.C. and remember as a teen being horrified by the likes of George Wallace. And unfortunately, memories of that man and his spread of evil flashed through my mind recently with all that is going on. I remember D.C. shutting down after MLK was assassinated and I worried for my black classmates who lived in the areas where the riots began. I could see the fires from my house not far away, and watched in horror as truckloads of national guard wielding bayonets patrolled the neighborhoods. And now 50 plus years later, it seems some things just don't change. But I have to have hope that SOON everyone will be treated equally, will try to keep others safe, will stop being selfish and entitled. Otherwise I would crumble into a pile. So waiting for my vote-by-mail ballot to come. I will fill it out immediately and hand-deliver it to my town office.
Deb, I have that same problem and its not even deja vu all over again, its the return of a nightmare. A fight we fought and left me foolishly thinking we had at least turned a corner toward better days. I'm glad young people are still struggling to make the world better, you have to have hope to keep up the struggle. Thank God for their spirit.
Thanks for the thoughtful post, B. A. Maybe we get through this period and make more progress toward a better world.
Great and thoughtful post -- I join you in hoping that American won't implode entirely before this awful year is behind us. I also agree that the heroes among us are inspiring us to find our better angels. Thanks for your insights!
B.A. I love this part:
"But I am holding onto the hope that just like the RWA, America will not implode. That our lawmakers will see the need to stop squabbling and take care of our essential workers and those unemployed. That we the people will wise up and take care of ourselves and each other, so no more people will die unnecessarily."
That is my hope too. I go back and forth between true hope about the new year and new leadership, and utter devastation at the thought it will stay the same or worse. In the end I opt for and work hard for that hope to become a reality through "Plan Your Vote" and simply talking to anyone who will listen regarding the truth of what is happening.
May your hope and mine and many other's become a true reality.
Thank you Maggie. I'm listening to Biden say, may tomorrow be better than yesterday. Amen to you, and everyone else who responded to this post. May hope spring eternal.
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