The other night my kids talked me into buying a projector so we could hang out in the yard, build a fire, make s’mores, and watch a movie. It was one of those asks that started out as a wish.
The youngest started with, “Man, I wish we had one of those projectors so we could watch a movie out here. That would be so cool.” Quick to jump to her aid was her older sister. “Yeah, me, too. You can buy them for like 50 bucks or something. We could shine it on the shed and build a fire. It’d be cool.”
They had it all quickly figured out.
I did the mental math and some Googling before deciding to surprise them. After two hours of shopping and looking for firewood to purchase, everything was a go. I felt pretty good about myself. For years, these wishful asks were always heavy with doubt because they weren’t usually immediately possible. My “hmm … maybe” was checked by the youngest one day when she burst into tears and told her sister to forget it because “we all know that her ‘maybe’ means no.” I hadn’t thought of how many “maybes” I’d made them hold until then.
They were so excited when they realized that I had bought not only a projector but a screen, too! I was put in charge of finding the movie, which never happens, while they got everything ready. There was kindling and firewood, graham crackers, marshmallows, and candy bars, blankets and sweatshirts. Game. On.
Everyone was settled in and staring at the screen. I tapped my phone screen. Nothing happened. I tried again. Nothing happened. I reassured them that I’d get it as I was scrolling for YouTube for help. It was when I took a minute to read the box that I realized a cord was required but not provided, and it was one that I did not own.
I sat there, defeated, dreading the fact that I had to tell them that it was all for nothing. When I told them, they both stared at me, silent. The oldest decided she had something to do for her last real day of school. The youngest didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes, so I talked her into staying for s’mores on the grill. I think we were out there for maybe 15 minutes before she headed inside. Her parting words were, “Oh well, mama, you tried.”
“Oh well, mama, you tried.” I walked around the yard and cleaned up, mad. I can’t tell you how many times in my 17 years as a parent that I’ve “tried;” the times I thought I had everything I needed to make something perfect only to realize after spending time, energy, and money that I was missing the super important part that no one talks about because I didn’t pay attention to the packaging. It’s like forgetting the batteries for Christmas morning … forgetting your pay stubs for the DHHR review … there’s always that one piece that can make the whole thing a bust.
So why am I talking about this? Because our democracy is designed the same way: We have to pay attention to the packaging. There are so many moving pieces that we don’t ever pay attention to because they’re not widely talked about. We know, for instance, that we live in a country that allows us to vote for our elected officials, even if we don’t know what those positions are for. To call myself out, our county commission is something that I know very little about even though I know it has a large role to play as far as local government, but I’ve never had to approach that body so I’ve never paid attention to it – even though I vote for who fills those positions.
There is so much to be gained from a stronger democracy, so why aren’t we concerned about protecting it? Why doesn’t it matter to me that my neighbor might not get to vote because he doesn’t have a ride to the polls? Why doesn’t it matter that my elderly relative doesn’t have internet service or cable and misses big announcements, such as a community organization working to pass a resolution that places homeowners at risk of outrageous fines for not being able to afford a $500 repair?
A part of our responsibility is to make sure that our democracy is protected. It’s our right to speak up and protest. It’s our right to expect our government, whether local or federal, to do no harm to us – to any of us – through policies and procedures. We have to pay attention to what the government is selling us.
Anything else will leave us angry, our bellies empty, staring at a blank screen.
Onward,
Amy Jo
