I went to the store down the road the other night, alone. Heading home, I turned on my blinker to turn back onto our street but kept driving up the road instead. Usually, a trip up the road to turn around in the laundromat parking lot is just long enough … just long enough to finish listening to the song we’re all singing along with or long enough for me to have another five minutes of silence.
I was still feeling a little hyper when my street appeared again, but I had nowhere else to go.
“You can go home when you can’t go anywhere else,” my mom always says, so I slowly and quietly coasted up my driveway, hoping not to alert my dogs. I just needed a couple more minutes. I stayed in the driveway for a while. That particular day had been a long one. Usually, I can shake it off, so I was wrestling with why I was so hyper and anxious this particular evening. Listening to the stories of others is what I do. I’ve always been that person who others bare their hearts to in the checkout line or drive-thru window. But that day…
My day started with an update call on the For The People Act. There’s still a lot of energy around the work and still hope that U.S. Sen. Manchin (D-WV) will listen to what the majority of West Virginians are saying. I spent the next hour or so reading and responding to emails and updating my calendar. Mid-morning was spent speaking on a panel about how the Child Tax Credit expansion was going to benefit families here with some moms who had come with me. I have gotten to know them over the years and know they’re going to make it because they’re some of the most determined women I’ve ever known.
The afternoon started with another call; this time it was about how the money from the American Rescue Plan was being spent and focused on child care. Something really started to gnaw at me as I was listening to another group of people talk about expanding the Child Tax Credit, Paid Leave For All, and the For The People’s Act, all in one. I started to doodle and write notes about the intersection of government, democracy, and basic human rights in terms of economic justice.
I sat on the porch for a few minutes after that call, talking to my mom about meaningless things. I asked questions that I already knew the answers to, like when my kiddo needed to be picked up that day, so I could feel as if I had one solid idea about how to move ahead. I stretched and went back into the “office,” knowing it was time to start calling people listed in a document to see where they stood on the For The People Act.
I was armed with the same information I had presented to so many others and felt OK because this pastor and I had exchanged a few emails. The conversation started with the expected small talk. The weather was hot. Summer was moving too quickly. And oh, by the way, we would love your support.
The pastor’s answer started in a way that let me know if their support was possible, I was going to have to work for it. Long story short, they would preach pro-life in their church but didn’t feel as if the moving parts of justice I had mentioned were biblical in nature and couldn’t be supported in a Conservative church. *sigh*
The call ended pleasantly enough, but I felt deflated.
That was, I discovered, the conversation that had unnerved me. If I am labeled as a progressive or a liberal because I view justice as an overarching basis for helping people realize their potential in this life, then I suppose I have no choice but to wear those labels. I view my spiritual call as one that requires pushing against injustice, whether that’s around a lack of childcare that prevents workforce participation or the lack of water in the nation’s poorest county. I believe we are called to protect the person after birth. Life begins in the womb and ends in the grave, and I believe that we are all responsible for fighting for equality and equity in the gap.
If I witnessed you choking in a restaurant, I damn sure wouldn’t stop to ask if you were a Democrat or Republican before performing the Heimlich Maneuver. And I would expect nothing less from you because, I believe, we’re supposed to rely on each other, especially when one of us is in need. Love one another.
Keep bridging the gap. Even if it means a ride up the road or sitting in your car in the driveway.
Onward,
Amy Jo
