The Extraordinary Possibilities of Ordinary People in a Democracy

Next week we will be celebrating the founding of our country, a country founded on the principle that government should be, as Lincoln proclaimed, “of the people, by the people, for the people.” This is a grand concept--democracy—that the people being governed have the power to decide how they will be governed and by whom.

 

But democracy is only democracy if the people—all the people—are willing to be a part of the decision-making process. I came to understand this importance several years ago, almost by chance.

 

I had come to the political meeting as much out of curiosity as a sense of obligation. Paul and I sat in the back, among 20 or 30 people, observing. The time had come to nominate people to serve as the next precinct chair, who would also represent our area at the party conventions. I was curious about the people coming forward to offer their service. As I looked at them, I thought, “Hmm. I could probably do that.”

 

As the current precinct chair said, “Are there any other nominations?” I surprised myself by raising my hand. “I nominate myself.”

 

That is how I entered the world of active civic engagement. That is how I became a full participant in the democratic process.

 

Richard Haas--the author of an excellent book published this year, The Bill of Obligations: The Ten Habits of Good Citizens—explains “What matters in a democracy is not the views of a majority of the populace but those of a majority willing to get involved politically.”

 

Raising my hand, I made the decision to get involved.

 

But for most of my life, I hadn’t. Like most of us, I suppose, I voted, but usually with little knowledge of what would be the best vote. I filled in a bubble on the ballot, hoping the majority would be wise enough to make the right choice.

 

After I was elected as precinct chair that night, everything changed. As chair, I served as delegate to the party’s county and state conventions. I was able to meet all the candidates running for office, to talk to them at length in person or on the phone. I examined their websites and listened to debates. By the time I went to convention, I had an informed opinion on who to vote for. I felt my vote mattered and I was confident in casting it. 

 

As a delegate, I had some special access to candidates, but any voter can study the issues and the candidates to vote knowledgably. Recently, the leadership of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints issued a statement proclaiming the political neutrality of the church while urging the members of the church to get involved politically.

 

You can find the full text of the letter here, but this is a passage from it. 

“We urge you to spend the time needed to become informed about the issues and candidates you will be considering. . . . Members should also study candidates carefully and vote for those who have demonstrated integrity, compassion, and service to others, regardless of party affiliation.” 

Being informed and getting involved in politics matters. It matters especially because--if you don’t get involved--the democracy will be run by a minority of passionate people who may not represent your views.

 

I saw this in the Utah caucus system. Because a very small number actually attend the neighborhood meetings where the delegates are chosen, those chosen are likely not to represent the opinions of the majority of voters in their area. The people who attend are more likely to be from the passionate minority. This is why I raised my hand. I felt that those nominated were not likely to represent my (more moderate) views on issues.

 

Richard Haas explains “Democracy cannot be a spectator sport. Passivity and opting out simply allow others to choose for you, which almost certainly means advancing their preferences rather than your own.” 

This is just what happens. If everyone does not participate meaningfully in the election, then we are doomed to be led by those who have passionate agendas we may not agree with.

What can we do?

1.     Be informed. Learn about issues and candidates. Talk to people. Talk to people who disagree with you. Find out why they disagree. Read and listen to news sources with differing perspectives. Form a well-informed opinion about important matters. 

2.     Get involved. Attend town meetings, city council meetings, neighborhood/district meetings. 

3.     Vote!

4.     Volunteer—help with campaigns, community projects, or neighborhood service.

5.     And, for the most complete involvement in the democratic process, run for office. 

Harry Emerson Fosdick, a 20^th century New York City pastor, once said, “Democracy is based upon the conviction that there are extraordinary possibilities in ordinary people.”

That is why those ordinary people stepped up 248 years ago to create a country different than any other country—one that expects the involvement of the citizens. This country has never been perfect. But it can be good and can become better, if all of us step up to show the “extraordinary possibilities” in ordinary people. 

As we celebrate the founding of our country in the coming days, let’s look for ways to become more involved in the democracy we love.

 

Fiery Dragons and Good Men

It's Father’s Day, and I am thinking of men—of all the good they do and can do and of the ways that being a man is becoming harder lately. 

What? You may say. Aren’t men the oppressors, the abusers, the guardians of the glass ceiling, the source of that poison called male toxicity? 

This attitude is on display in a couple of novels I read recently, both set in the 50s and written by women who never lived the 50s. In Chemistry Lessons by Bonnie Garmus, the protagonist is raped by her thesis advisor, and when she reports this, she is kicked out of her doctoral program--and evidently this behavior is common, for it happens two or three times more in the book. When Women Were Dragons by Kelly Barnhill, a fantasy novel, takes this resentment of men to what may seem the natural next step. Women who are abused by the men in their lives turn into dragons, eat their abusers, and fly off in fire, fury, and power. 

It is true that some men have been abusive and violent and selfish and toxic. It’s true that some men, sometimes even with good intentions, kept women within narrowly prescribed boundaries. But not all men are rapists. All men do not deserve a fiery death. In my career, men encouraged and guided me. My father, my husband, my sons, and almost all men I have had contact with have been kind, respectful, and supportive. 

In fact, it seems to me that most men have supported and helped others in their lives. I’m talking of the millions of good men who have protected and provided for others from the beginning of men and women--from the cave men who risked their lives hunting mammoths to feed their village to the modern dad who works to provide for his family every day—maybe at a job he doesn’t particularly love—and then comes home to help with dinner, change the baby, play ball with the kids, and then deal with bedtime routines.

Most men, the vast majority, are like all of humanity, just trying to figure out how to live a good life. Most men do so with a desire to help others and especially their families. Most men are willing to use their particular skills to help with everything from opening jars and carrying heavy boxes to figuring out what’s wrong with the vacuum cleaner or the car. 

But, somehow, in the last decades, many men are losing their way. As women’s opportunities have increased, many men have lost ground. Here are some stats from a recent book by Richard Reeves, Of Boys and Men: Why the Modern Male Is Struggling, Why It Matters, and What to Do about It. In 1972, 13% more men graduated from college; today more women graduate by 15%. Male employment has dropped by 7% in the last 50 years, especially among young men. Among men with only a high school diploma, a third are out of the workforce. Since 1983, men’s wages have dropped by 10% while women’s earnings have risen 33%. 

But most disturbing of all, male “deaths of despair” (suicides, drug overdoses, and alcohol-related illnesses) are about three times that of women. 

What can be done to support boys and men, while at the same time helping women? Is success a zero-sum game, where if women are to succeed, men must fail? Now obviously, this is a complicated question and I'm not going to answer it in a 800-word blog post, but here are a couple of thoughts.

Reeves has ideas, ranging from boys starting school later than girls (because their brains mature more slowly) to encouraging men to work in traditionally female fields such as nursing and education. 

But I think the place to start is letting boys and men know that we appreciate them and respect their talents and skills and efforts. 

Last year about this time, my husband and I took our young grandchildren on an outing and afterwards stopped to get ice cream. While everyone was enjoying huge bowls of rocky road and strawberry cream, a thunderstorm came up, deluging the area with rain. The children gathered at the glass door to watch the torrents of water streaming from the sky, then they squealed as the torrents streamed in under the door. The employees got buckets and mops while the rain poured and we watched in fascination. Finally, the rain stopped, as suddenly as it had begun. When we opened the door, we found the parking lot had become a shallow, filthy lake.

My 75-year-old good husband took control. “I’ll get the Expedition and bring it to the door.” Then he sloshed through dirty water up to his calves, got the car, and sloshed out again to help carry the little ones in. His instinct and his desire were to protect us. He is a good man.

 

I’m grateful for good men, for their muscles and their support. For moving furniture and digging the garden. For giving advice and putting together the Christmas toys. For making corny jokes and for wanting to keep others safe.

 

Men are not the enemy. As women obtain more opportunities, men do not have to decrease in importance. We, men and women, are partners. We work together. 

 

And there are a lot of good men out there. Let’s remember them and celebrate them this Father’s Day and always.

 

On Being a “Weird Mormon”

Here I am, ready for Church.

A few weeks ago, I read an article in a well-known national publication about a best-selling fantasy author. In this article, this author was summed up as a “weird Mormon.” (https://www.wired.com/story/brandon-sanderson-is-your-god/)

 

That hurt, not only because I happen to like that author, but because I am a “weird” Mormon myself, or rather a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. This treatment was not exactly surprising though, since members of my church seem to be the last group that people can laugh at, from the straightlaced two-faced “Mormon” in movies to the ever-popular Broadway musical lampooning “Mormon missionaries.” 

 

These days, while it is unthinkable to ridicule Muslims or Native Americans or Hindus or Catholics or Jews, it seems it is totally OK to mock my faith. 

 

Why? All I can think of, is people don’t understand us. So today, I want to take you on a little tour of my life as a “weird Mormon.”  I don’t want to talk about doctrine or try to convert you. I just want to tell you about us, as people. Then you tell me if we deserve mockery.

 

If you were to enter my church service on a Sunday morning, the first weird thing you might notice is that the person conducting the meeting is the same person who teaches at the local school, or works at the local Walmart, or fills cavities in your teeth. The main leader of a congregation, called the bishop, is just an ordinary member. He leads our worship, teaches the youth, counsels the troubled, and provides assistance to the poor. He will serve for about five years, and then someone else has a turn. My husband has been a bishop. 

 

How does one person do this, when he has another full-time job and a family to care for? He has a lot of help. 

 

In fact, every member of the congregation is called a “minister.” We all help each other. Members serve as leaders (men and women both) over the women, the men, the children, and the youth. Every person in the congregation has two or three specific people to watch over, to call or text or visit so that we know what they are going through. This way, ideally, no one feels alone. If a person is sick, or struggling emotionally, or having a financial crisis—we help.

 

Also, the lay bishop doesn’t give the sermon every week. We do. Every week, two or three members get to give a 10–15-minute sermon (or talk). Everyone has a chance to do this. This means some talks are better than others. This also means every week we hear our friends’ personal experience with trying to follow Jesus. And, every once in a while, each of us gets to think deeply about our faith and share that understanding with the congregation. I gave a talk just last week.

 

Because we love our faith, we want to share. We say, “let us know if you want to know more about our church.” We send our young sons and daughters off to share the good news all over the world, funded by our own money. Barely out of high school, these youngsters give up dating, movies, and listening to popular music to live in a strange culture, often trying to speak a foreign language. This is scary and hard. But these boys and girls do it cheerfully and willingly.

 

We not only sacrifice our time to share our faith, but we also sacrifice our money. We give ten percent of our income to the church. This tithing money is used to build and maintain churches, support higher education (including an on-line program available worldwide), and provide service. Last year the Church donated over 1 billion dollars to humanitarian projects all over the world.

 

The church has been in the news lately because the funds have piled up. We are ready for future needs. We are not misusing the funds. Even the general leaders of the church who work full time` receive only a modest income. No one is getting rich off the church.

 

Those are some of the “weird” parts of our faith. We also do a lot of good things which we know others do as well. I’ll just mention a few to fill in the tour of our faith.

 

We help others. From helping the widow down the street with her yard to mucking out basements devastated by hurricanes, Mormons are great at organizing and serving. We love to help. My congregation has a quilt-making activity every Tuesday morning, donating the quilts to women’s shelters, refugee centers, and anybody in need. I know of a congregation that regularly makes cookies for the local LGBTQ club. Often congregations make bag lunches for the homeless.

 

Like others, we try to be good people. When we make mistakes, we believe we can repent and change. When those around us make mistakes, we believe they can do the same, and we forgive them. We respect the free will of others and don’t try to change them. We teach, but we allow others to find their own path. We try to accept and love all of God’s children. We believe deeply that the greatest commandments are to love God and to love each other. 

 

We study the word of God daily. We pray. We try to do what God wants us to. 

 

Of course, these are ideals. Being mortal, we often come up short. Some members of our faith do not seem to follow these ideals. All of us mess up from time to time. Don’t judge the faith or the Church by the mortals who are in it. 

 

Yes, the Mormon faith is different, maybe even weird. But does that mean we should be mocked? We who belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we are just trying to do good and be good. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Disneyland Happiness and Everyday Happiness

 

Recently Paul and I spent a day in the happiest place on earth. Yes, it was Disney land, and yes, we were happy, and as far as I could see, so was everyone else there. As we stood in line, we watched families, friends, and couples, all cheerily talking and laughing. We squealed with everyone else on the Matterhorn and ooh-ed and ah-ed on the Peter Pan ride. We savored beignets and churros. We chatted with total strangers who were just happy to be there and even seemed happy to be there with us. 

 

Why shouldn’t we be happy? The whole park had been created to delight us. Even the easy-to- overlook coat of arms on Mr. Toad’s ride delighted us with the motto Semper Absurda. The story book canal took us through miniature villages so detailed I wanted to call out “stop the boat! I need to more time to look!” Those beignets were not only delicious, but they were shaped just like Mickey. Who wouldn’t smile at that? 

 

And then the employees, ahem, “the cast” of workers all did everything they could to help us to be happy. Every time I was lost (and it was often) I just stopped a helpful employee—a kiosk salesgirl, or a custodian emptying the trash, or just a random employee walking across the park. They always seemed delighted to be asked to help and never made me feel stupid. “Oh, I know it’s easy to get lost here,” they would smile. Then they would point me in the right direction, or even walk with me to find it. If I went to the wrong window to pick up my food, an employee smiled and said, “Oh, it is a little confusing. Just go right over there!” 

 

Making money did not seem to be the main purpose of the employees--making happiness was. When I bought Minnie Mouse ears, the girl cut off the price tag, but wrapped another long tag around the headband and taped it tight. I said, “Oh, you can just cut that off too.” She replied with a smile, “But if I do that, you can’t return it.” Wait, what? Did she just say that I could return the ears after wearing them, maybe all day?

 

But probably the most important reason for our happiness at Disneyland was that we WANTED to be happy. We had planned for this day, saved money, asked friends for advice, cruised the web searching for tips, downloaded the app, bought the cute Disney clothes—after all that investment, we were not going to blow the day by being cranky. So, when something went wrong, we laughed. When the line was long, we played games. When we were hungry, we ate. It’s just one day. We can be happy for one day (or three or five if you splurged on the longer pass).

 

But what if we want to be happy at home, maybe every day? Can we use the Disney magic to help with that? Now I’m talking about everyday kind of days. If we are facing real tragedy—divorce, disaster, death ---that is not what we are talking about here. But what about an ordinary day, a day when you might be tired or frustrated or cranky. Can we apply Disney magic to those days?

Well, we can be like Disney and look at our surroundings. Think about what makes you happy or what keeps you from feeling happy. Dirty dishes in the sink get you down? Then wash them. Rushing around like crazy in the morning? If it makes you unhappy, change your schedule so there is time for a peaceful morning. Don’t like your front door? Paint it. 

 

In other words, if anything surrounding you is impacting you negatively, identify the problem and try to fix it. This will take some work, but, hey—you put all that work into the Disney vacay, you can do this too.

 

Here’s another idea. We can be like Disney and be delighted help others. Just like your mom said, “When we’re helping, we’re happy.” Maybe, like the Disney cast, if someone asks a stupid question, I can just say, “It’s easy to be confused about that.” Maybe, if someone needs help, I can pitch in and help with a smile.

 

And then, maybe most important, we can want to be happy--want it enough to put in the effort, to take responsibility for our own happiness, to put on smile and let that smile be real.

 

All that I’m saying here is, just think of the effort you would put into having a happy day at Disneyland. And then consider putting something like that effort into having a happy day on any normal day in your life. What would you do? What could you do?

 

At the end of our Disney day, as we walked out of Mickey and Minnie’s Runaway Railway into the dusk of ToonTown, we came upon a little square of artificial turf. There on the turf were children, toddlers, parents—all chasing and laughing and tickling. 

 

That moment of chasing and giggling and tickling was not created by Disney magic. It was created by families who decided to be happy. Maybe we don’t need Disney to be happy. We just need to decide.