In these fraught times, it is sometimes difficult to focus on the small joys of life that I feature in my Friday Favorites series. In brief: Worldwide, there is climate change and the pandemic, which continue to grind everyone down. In the U.S. we have the most odious and incompetent leadership that I have ever had the misfortune to see. The pandemic is minimized to the point where it is more or less allowed to rampage at will. Over 200,000 people in the U.S. have died because of Covid-19, and the numbers continue to rise. Mask wearing has become a political issue, and a few months ago, elders were encouraged to face death to keep the economy going.

As if this all weren’t bad enough, the U.S. seems to be on the brink of a dictatorship as President Trump makes plans to do whatever it takes to stay in charge, regardless of the results of the upcoming November election. (For a cogent description of Trump’s plans, read the excellent Heather Cox Richardson’s Letters from an American: September 23, 2020.)

Finally, the cherry on this toxic sundae is that once again the Republicans are on the rampage against the Affordable Care Act (ACA).  Never mind that millions of people, including me, depend on it for their health insurance. The Republicans want to abolish it, and hope that the Supreme Court will soon rule in their favor. I try not to think too much about what will happen if, at last, the Republicans are successful in demolishing the ACA.

We live on a tight budget, and there is no way we can afford to buy health insurance at market-place rates. Plus, I have had breast cancer, which qualifies as a pre-existing condition. So if the Republicans succeed in their mission, I am out of luck.

Sorry that this is such a pessimistic Friday post, but the bad news Just. Keeps. Coming.

Somehow, it seems frivolous to post pictures of, say, ice cream or omelets or a favorite music video while the country is literally and figuratively on fire. On the other hand, with all that’s going on, it seems like an act of defiance to enjoy the small things in life.

Drinks outside on a warm autumn evening,

a bright leaf that has fallen on the patio,

and chickadees that come to drink from the ant moats above the hummingbird feeders.

Heather Cox Richardson ends her September 23 piece with this small note of hope: “[T]he future remains unwritten.”

Yes, it is, a tiny ray of light in an otherwise dark landscape.

For love of domination we must substitute equality; for love of victory we must substitute justice; for brutality we must substitute intelligence; for competition we must substitute cooperation. We must learn to think of the human race as one family.  —Bertrand Russell

As is my way, I have been reading a lot of pieces and articles in various publications to try to make sense of what is going on. Reading is no substitution for acting, but for me, anyway, it is an important first step. I might never succeed, but I at least want to attempt to figure out why things are happening the way they are. And what might be done to make our society a better, fairer place.

Below are some samples of what I have been reading.

From Vox, here is Terry Nguyen’s  nuanced take on looting: There Isn’t a Simple Story about Looting.

Civil disobedience is frenzied and chaotic by nature. People who take to the streets might not all share the same beliefs: Some protesters are looting out of the same anger that drives the protests, and other looters are not protesters at all. But because it’s impossible to untangle every person’s motivations and intent, it’s much easier to lump them all into a group to create a narrative of the event that fits our understanding.

Not surprisingly, President Obama writes clearly and beautifully about protest and change.  From Medium here is an excerpt from his piece How to Make this Moment the Turning Point for Real Change.

The point of protest is to raise public awareness, to put a spotlight on injustice, and to make the powers that be uncomfortable; in fact, throughout American history, it’s often only been in response to protests and civil disobedience that the political system has even paid attention to marginalized communities. But eventually, aspirations have to be translated into specific laws and institutional practices — and in a democracy, that only happens when we elect government officials who are responsive to our demands.

Finally, from my blogging friend, the inimitable Cynthia Reyes, who has put together an excellent list of suggestions and reading for those who want to go beyond expressing sorrow over all that has happened. (Full disclosure: One of my blog posts is featured.) The title of her post is 8 Specific Actions We Can Take. I’ve been making  my way through her suggestions and links.

I started this piece with a quotation by Bertrand Russell.  On the face of it, his words seem a little woo-woo, nice to read but not exactly a stern call to action. If it had a flavor, you might call it vanilla.

But think, for a moment, what kind of world we would have if leaders all over followed Russell’s advice.

Not perfect, which is impossible, but oh so much better than what we have now.

And despite the  seemingly bland flavor, very, very difficult to achieve.

If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.   —Desmond Tutu

The first six months of 2020 have been a doozy. Just when we think it can’t get any worse, it does. After the murder of George Floyd in Minneapolis, I felt something inside me crack open.

I might be old, I might not have much influence or money, but I can’t sit back while our country careens out of control from one horror to another.

I have decided to become involved with the Poor People’s Campaign, an organization dedicated to “Building a movement to overcome systemic racism, poverty, ecological devastation and the war economy.”

A friend of mine has volunteered with the Poor People’s Campaign for a couple of years and has told me about the good work they do. She has heard Reverend William Barber, the organization’s  founder, speak in Portland. (Awhile back, I read a profile of Reverend Barber in the New Yorker, and I was impressed by his devotion to civil rights.)

Change doesn’t happen by itself. It takes hard work. It takes organization. It takes many voices.

I have decided to be one of those voices, however small.

I have had enough.