The Places In Between is a wonderful book by Rory Stewart about north-central Afghanistan in 2002. He writes of his solo walk through rough and empty country, precariously making his way from one dot on the map to the next.
As we now find ourselves in the grip of the unknown and the uncomfortable, in our homes and communities, we might yearn for dots on the map – tiny certainties in a big scary space. Even when the dots do exist, they disappear in the rearview mirror long before the next one appears; it’s up ahead but still below the curve of the horizon.
Fear, despair and pain are crippling us…but what if we could see each other more clearly as humans, and help each other more compassionately?
For example, the Black Lives Matter movement is bringing long-overdue attention to the problem of systemic racism in the US. More than 60 years have passed since the civil rights movement of the 1950s and 1960s, and the unfortunate truth is that there is still so much left undone. If that was not so, why do so many of the spoken and written words from that time ring so true today?
As humans, we can’t escape suffering on a global scale. But at present, we seem to be growing more attuned to our differences. This was a topic of several recent conversations I had with the elders in my life. How do we find common ground and walk on to the next dot on the map?
One of these elders was my late father—at 92, on the younger end of the World War II generation. This horrible war was the seminal event for my parents’ generation. No individual or family escaped its toll. A feature in the June 2020 issue of National Geographic reminds us of that fact, and of how few voices survive to tell the tale in their own words.
Although he wasn’t a combat vet, my father noted that World War II brought Americans together in the common goal to support the war effort and survive for the common good. “We all felt that it was right,” he said. It was his fervent desire to keep the communication channels as free-flowing as possible with those he didn’t agree with. He was distressed by the ever-growing space between political “sides,” especially among his family and friends.
He felt that the best potential place for finding common ground was the economy. He was a great admirer of Bill Bradley, whose three terms in the U.S. Senate included strong leadership on tax reform and fiscal far-sightedness.
The last time I spoke with my father about this idea of nurturing common ground, he mentioned a speech by Robert F. Kennedy in 1968. Kennedy spoke about the American economy and of the need for all Americans to have access to its benefits. Here’s an excerpt:
“…Too much and for too long, we seemed to have surrendered personal excellence and community values in the mere accumulation of material things. Our Gross National Product, now, is over $800 billion dollars a year, but that Gross National Product – if we judge the United States of America by that – that Gross National Product counts air pollution and cigarette advertising, and ambulances to clear our highways of carnage. It counts special locks for our doors and the jails for the people who break them. It counts the destruction of the redwood and the loss of our natural wonder in chaotic sprawl. It counts napalm and counts nuclear warheads and armored cars for the police to fight the riots in our cities. It counts Whitman’s rifle and Speck’s knife, and the television programs which glorify violence in order to sell toys to our children. Yet the gross national product does not allow for the health of our children, the quality of their education or the joy of their play. It does not include the beauty of our poetry or the strength of our marriages, the intelligence of our public debate or the integrity of our public officials. It measures neither our wit nor our courage, neither our wisdom nor our learning, neither our compassion nor our devotion to our country, it measures everything in short, except that which makes life worthwhile. And it can tell us everything about America except why we are proud that we are Americans.”
Kennedy was cognizant of the challenges faced by leaders in turbulent times. So was Bradley, who wrote in his 2012 book We Can All Do Better: “In times of great stress, inaction is not an option. You have to act, because if you don’t change the downward trajectory of a bad situation it will only get worse. Wishing it weren’t so doesn’t make it better. Ignoring it perpetuates it. Only well-considered action will allow us to move beyond our current situation.”
Let’s move.
Am deeply moved by this post. I appreciate the way in which you honor your late father’s observations, and the importance of Kennedy’s and Bradley’s contributions. How inspiring! It seems incumbent upon all of us to take engage in whatever actions we can to uplift humanity – to act with patience and tolerance, and express loving kindness and generosity towards one another and towards ourselves.