Witness
Standing In
My journal, boasting my step-son’s work with Wild Salmon Center, a remarkable organization dedicated to the preservation of salmon habitat around the world. Stop to consider their conviction that salmon habitat is as good a measure as any, for how our planet is faring with the challenge our species has visited on our fragile planet.
I am standing in for them with this because, like every significant effort being made right now, in order to preserve their funding, not to mention their integrity, they must do a dance more elaborate and intricate than they might have in another time.
As an old, retired guy, I am not so constrained.
I hope.
I have never participated in social media, unless you consider SubStack social media. I stumbled into this platform because I understood it to represent itself as serious writing that steered clear of the shenanigans that make so much of the internet a distasteful mis-mash.
Only once, in the year or so I have made occasional forays here, has anyone picked up on a piece of mine, and used it as a jumping off place for another bone the unknown responder wanted to pick with me.
One reason I’m writing this now, is because I found myself feeling timid after that incident.
Imagine what it must feel to run Planned Parenthood. Or World Health.
Somehow, with the bogus, horrendous political, so-called indictment of James Comey today, it feel like it’s time to throw my instinctive caution to the winds. Yes, I nymber myself among those who might choose to hunker down and wait out this nauseating chapter. I’m old, won’t live long enough to see what emerges from this, but I feel bound to add my voice from the distant sideline.
Because, at this moment, the voices of people as distant from the battles of high places as mine, look to be all we can count on. I devoutly wish to believe those who cite historical examples of as few as 3% of a nation loudly resisting, overturned tyrants like the one under whom we’re suffering.
Voices like mine may be especially significant because, aside from the shame and embarrassment I feel for our country having this man represent us before the world, I likely will end my days economically and personally intact.
Unlike those thousands of public servants who have been summarily cast off, farmers for whom the immigration and tariff madness has made their lives untenable, librarians and teachers who have suffered at the hands of mobs enlivened by trumped up anger, people who have offered themselves for election only to find themselves treated like criminals, or worse, I will end my few remaining days without the weight of a scary future.
Consider this mild offering, the voice of one who has seen us through wars, struggles for racial justice, and the just cause of recognizing the dignity of people different from me, and who refuses to accept that a movement fed by anger and injustice, will have the final word on what our nation and the world will look like in the coming years.
As for that salmon bravely swimming upstream against heavy current, offering her life for offspring she will never know… I take her as the icon by which I choose to symbolize the courage I pray for myself, as I offer what energy remains to me, on behalf of those who dream of life upstream.
My understanding of that day is quite different, Nell, and I greatly regret your feeling that we were rude to you. When I said to one of the children, "So, you're going to live here," you responded, "Maybe. It wasn't my first choice." So I sensed that you were wavering about the place. Later I passed you in the driveway and asked how the inspection was going. You said, "They've found issues in the basement." I took that the mean that, between your uncertainty about moving there, and problems with the inspection, you were not going to go through with it. I then said, "It's a small space for so many," thinking to console you about it not working out. When you replied, "I guess that's no one's business but mine," I realized you had misunderstood my meaning. I emailed Sally, the listing realtor, and said that I was afraid I might have offended you, and if we were to be neighbors, I hoped there might be a way to set things right. Sally responded, "Thank you. I will pass that along." The next thing I heard was that we had driven you away. I am old and I'm sure I'm not well attuned the nuances of young people having to navigate life in ways I haven't. I try, often unsuccessfully, to be sensitive to people whose lives are different from mine. I hope you find a nice place for your family. I can only imagine how hard that can be in this environment.
Blayney,
I read your recent piece about salmon, courage, and standing up for justice. Your words about “recognizing the dignity of people different from me” and refusing to “accept that a movement fed by anger and injustice will have the final word” struck me deeply.
I wish the person you describe in your writing had been the one we met on August 27, when my husband and I brought our four children to see the condominium we were under contract to buy. Instead of dignity and welcome, we experienced intrusive questions about our family, unsolicited judgments about whether the home was “right for us,” and repeated discouragement from moving forward — all in front of our biracial children.
You wrote about the salmon swimming upstream as a symbol of courage. That day, my family was also swimming upstream — hopeful about a new home, and then forced to explain to our seven-year-old why someone had called me “crazy” for having my children, and why the only other homeowners were warning us off.
I don’t share this to attack you. I share it because the gap between your public words about dignity and justice, and the treatment my family received from you and your wife, is painful and stark. In your writing you call on people to resist anger and injustice. I ask you to reflect on how your words and actions toward us might have embodied the very attitudes you publicly oppose.
If you truly want to be the man you describe in your blog — someone who “recognizes the dignity of people different from me” — then I hope you will also recognize the harm of what happened that day and commit to ensuring no other family is made to feel unwelcome because of who they are.
Sincerely,
Nell O'Connell