Pat Taub
Many of us, including yours truly, are a bundle of nerves as we await the results of the midterm elections. Trump’s hate-filled rhetoric has spilled over to state campaigns, where Republicans running for office mimic Trump in their racist speeches.
The Trump-inspired armed militias are moving to the border to halt the migrant caravan. If the Republicans triumph will we face more mass shootings? Will we become a full-fledged Nazi country?
Many worry that the Alt-right egged on by Trump will take over our country.
Let’s all take a deep breath and collect ourselves before being swept away by the headlines and the frantic emails filling our in-boxes and before booking tickets to New Zealand. Hate dominates the news, but it also skews the fact that kindness and compassion have increased as an antidote to Herr Trump.
To test my hypothesis, I embarked on a hope search. I’m pleased to report that I found numerous examples of people caring for one another in everyday acts.
Here are some of my hope sightings:
In my church this past Sunday we lit candles for the dearly departed in our lives. During the ceremony an elderly choir member whose wife died just a few months ago spontaneously broke down, wailing out loud, “I miss my wife.” Our minister moved from the pulpit to the back row of the choir where the bereaved man was hunched over. She gently pressed her cheek next to his and remained there until he composed himself. Seeing this level of compassion elevated my hope barometer.
Everyday acts of compassion are often underreported
I live in downtown Portland in a busy neighborhood. Most mornings when I raise my living room blinds I spot an elderly African couple, she in a long African dress and he in an African skull cap slowly sauntering in what I assume to be their daily walk. Several weeks ago another elder, a woman similarly garbed in traditional African clothes joined them. The couple flanked their new companion with each one linking elbows with her. The woman in the middle was visibly upset, possibly in a state of grief. The other day she was once again walking with the couple. This time she was smiling.
There’s an elementary school whose playground I frequently cut through on my way to Pilates. Recently I came upon a class of very young children returning from recess to their classroom. Their teacher designated a small boy to hold the door for his classmates, announcing, “Please thank Adam for holding the door.” I stood and watched as one small child after another broke out into a grin, repeating, “Thank you, Adam.”
Teaching school children to care for one another holds hope for the future.
I’ve also been the recipient of kind acts. Saturday afternoon my doorbell rang. On the other side of the transom was my neighbor with a piece of cake from her birthday party, saying since I was housebound with a fractured foot she hoped her marzipan cake would cheer me up. It did!
As vital as it is to practice compassion in our daily lives it’s just as critical to work for a politics of compassion. We’re running out of time to save the planet, to prevent another war and to rescue our public schools and social programs. We can’t afford to be silent or to sit out the future.
We’re the help we’ve been waiting for. If we join together we can be an unstoppable force for good!
Young people are often leading the way in advocating a politics of compassion
