Early today, on this Sunday morning after three days of grieving its loss, my faith in humanity has been restored. Not by a preacher man but by two little kids and their parents. It feels good to make a comeback in my belief that human beings are inherently good, that evil has not won, that love and compassion can transform my empty shell of doubt into a vessel full of hope. This must be
how Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome felt when they greeted a resurrected Jesus outside the tomb.
Hallelujah!
This restoration of my faith in humanity came from, in my experience, an historically unlikely place: local TV news. I prefer to keep abreast of current events from non-partisan media with strong journalistic integrity. Trustworthy media sources such as
NPR and
PBS Newshour.
I've largely avoided watching local TV news in my adult life. My parents were local TV news junkies. My mom to check the weather, my dad to keep his finger on the pulse of the community. As a kid I thought the local TV news was boring, so I mostly ignored it even while it was blasting from our living room. As a teenager, local TV news caught my attention mostly in soundbites that I'd use to flame the eternal fire of arguments I had with my dad. By the time I was an adult my dad and I had cooled most of our conflict and I stopped paying attention to local TV news unless there was some kind of emergency happening.
For the longest time my husband and I didn't even have a TV that would tune in the local news. At age forty-nine it fills me with extreme pride to brag to the fact that I have never once in my life bought a TV. I've owned lots of hand-me-down TVs over the years. For example, in 2009 when the FCC forced the switch from analog to digital, my mom didn't want to fool with getting a digital converter box, so she just bought a new TV that came equipped to broadcast digital signals. She gave us her "old" TV which was fine with us because it worked with DVDs, which is mainly what we used it for. This was back when my mom lived in Nebraska. She routinely called me to let me know it was going to rain that day so I'd better take an umbrella to work. I'd glance outside to see with my own eyes that it was already raining, and I'd get annoyed with Mom for treating me so childishly, but now that she's gone I miss her reminders, however unnecessary. I realize now it's not what you say but just the fact that you say something that matters most in maintaining a good relationship with our loved ones.
I've been watching more local TV news lately for three reasons.
1) My mother-in-law moved in with us. She like both of my parents before her, routinely watches the local TV news.
2) We are in the middle of a global pandemic. Most of my favorite news sources focus on how COVID-19 is spreading throughout the world, and throughout the nation, but not specifically in my region. With a virus that spreads from close person-to-person contact, I find I feel less panicky when I'm able to mitigate my risk of transmission before heading out to pick up my anti-anxiety meds at the local pharmacy. During times of uncertainty, I want all the facts. Give it to me straight. Don't sugar coat it. Tell me what we're dealing with so I can make rational choices.
3) We live in the suburbs of Kansas City, right smack in the middle of a nation of Black Lives Matter activism. I want to see how these protests are panning out so I know which people in power in my community I need to send my complaints to if they continue propping up the racist status quo.
That's how I stumbled onto this faith-restoring piece from
KCTV5:
Weslee Rhodes, 8, read a book about racism and told her mom
the next time there was someone to stand up for, she wanted to help. That time
came on May 25, 2020 in Minneapolis.
“Our heart just breaks for that situation,” said Kimberly
Wegleitner. “George Floyd deserved better. Black people deserve better.”
Weslee’s mom admits she has a tough time talking to her kids
about race.
“I know it’s really important, but it’s hard for us to do
that and we don’t necessarily know the words,” said Meg Rhodes, who also
organized the event. “If I’m experiencing that, I’m wondering if a lot of other
people are.”
So, she connected with Thompson on Facebook to create a way
for their community to celebrate diversity.
I am a children's librarian. In my profession, I regularly read to children during storytime. I also regularly answer reading recommendation requests from parents and caregivers who want to read with their children on a particular topic. Not only do I strongly advocate for the public library as a professional, the public library is in my blood. I grew up going to our local public library for storytime three times a week with my mom before I started kindergarten, and after that, at least once every three weeks to pick out books for both my parents and myself. Going to the local public library was as regular as going to the grocery store or the gas station. It was just some regular routine my parents and I did when I was growing up.
No big shock that I gravitated toward working in the public library. At age twenty-two, just barely a grownup myself, I got my job at the library where I still work today, twenty-seven years later.
I have spent my life surrounded by words. I understand their power. I understand the transformational power of books. I understand that books educate us about things we don't understand. For kids, who believe that their parents understand everything, it's unsettling when they discover their parents don't know the words to explain everything. As a parent, I understand how much of a failure I feel like when I don't know the words to answer my child's questions.
Today, there's a lot of things none of us understands about the world. To help alleviate my anxiety about all the unknowns, I turn to books. None of us knows the words to explain all the world's problems. But everyone knows some words that explain some things. And they can share those words with other people. And those people can add those words to the words they already know and share them with even more people.
No one likes to be caught not knowing the words. All of us can lean on each other to help us discover new words, which help form new ways of thinking, and that new way of thinking is how gradually, over time, the moral arc of the universe bends far enough that we start to see justice on the horizon. It gives us the hope we need to carry on.
I was raised by two imperfect parents. My guess is you were, too.
I was raised by two parents who did the best they could with what they had. My guess is you were, too.
In my forty-nine years, I've encountered no one who cannot say the same.
Words raised me up. I learned to speak my mind by arguing with my dad. I learned that pens win over swords from my artist mom. Both of my parents modeled for me a love of reading and patronizing the public library. They didn't always "know the words," when confronted by my challenging questions. But they knew where to find them. Knowing where to find the words inside books from the public library is the greatest gift my parents gave me. That I have the honor now to help patrons of our public library know where to find the words gives me courage. It makes me feel hopeful I can rise to the challenge amidst all the unknowns.
