It is winter in New England and the view out my window is predictably barren: snow and ice, whites and grays overwhelming the splashes of color from birds, buildings, cars, and clothing. The mental landscape is worse, a Siberian wasteland of politics and culture so divided that any hope for imminent progress is buried beneath a frozen layer of anger and reprisal. And even worse? Knowing that, at least occasionally, I’ve driven a wedge into that fissure, unable to make peace with either of two choices: turn the other cheek and see unconscionable actions continue without my resistance, or fight fire with fire and sink to a level of discourse that demeans me at least as much as those I would attack.
So, in the midst of multiple crises, including elected officials systematically dismantling 250 years of government process and precedent from within, I carry an even heavier weight: Congressman John Lewis suffers from Stage 4 pancreatic cancer.
There is not a person of my generation I admire or respect more. As a very young man, he was repeatedly attacked and arrested on the first Freedom Ride. He became the youngest chosen to speak before MLK Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech, reluctantly toning down his rhetoric at the request of more moderate leaders, including MLK himself.
He continued his public service for over 50 years, adding another five arrests as a Congressman to his 40-plus from his younger days. As noted in a recent Recorder Letter by Ava Gips, he argued forcefully for impeachment as a moral choice and example for our children and grandchildren.
John Lewis is at the center of a moment seared into my memory: the 1965 march across the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Alabama and the brutal attack by the state government: mounted troopers riding down John Lewis, Hosea Williams, and others who had knelt to pray. Fearsome figures in gas masks and helmets swung whips and clubs that fractured Lewis’ skull, sent 17 to the hospital, and injured another 50. If your memory doesn’t serve up any images, YouTube and the 2014 dramatization Selma can provide them.
I’ve often marveled at the courage of Lewis and others that day. Protester Jimmy Lee Jackson was shot to death less than two weeks before. Just a week after the march, Rev. James Reeb of Boston was beaten to death by white supremacists in Selma. (Those charged with Reeb’s murder were acquitted a few months later, and no one was charged in Jackson’s death until 2007.)
Lewis and the other marchers weren’t facing the horrors of Internet harassment, or contentious family and social gatherings like many of us today. When he saw the troopers preparing as if for battle, Lewis had to know that his hope of simple arrest (he carried a backpack with a book and toothbrush) didn’t reflect the depth of fear and hatred soon to be unleashed.
Bravery is often rightly associated with soldiers in battle. But even soldiers in the worst situations have been trained and armed to fight back. They may survive or even triumph through a combination of luck, courage, and clear-eyed skill. Lewis and the other marchers faced injury and possible death unarmed. It is bravery that few can muster once, let alone repeat many times over.
They risked their lives to secure voting rights for African Americans, blocked by Jim Crow laws for nearly 100 years. Voting rights are again under attack, with 22 states passing restrictive voting requirements since 2010, supposedly fighting voter fraud, a problem that does not exist according to nonpartisan experts and the federal commission established by Trump in 2016.
The laws have worked well for Republicans. For example, in 2016 Trump surprisingly won Wisconsin by a total of 23,000 votes. Long a leader in voter turnout, participation there dropped 3.3% after a strict voter ID system was implemented, deterring about 45,000 largely Democratic voters. (https://www.motherjones.com/politics/2017/10/voter-suppression-wisconsin-election-2016/.)
My last, best hope for the survival of our Constitutional government rests on our sacred right to vote and be counted. I believe in the wisdom of the American people over the long term, judging leaders on their actions and their character, voting for a hopeful and inclusive future rather than a divisive, dysfunctional, and destructive one. But that requires full resistance to foreign interference and concerted efforts to register all who are eligible. Thankfully, countless nonpartisan groups across the country are working to rebuild a democratic voting system we can rely on, including 8 listed here: https://www.bustle.com/p/8-voting-rights-organizations-to-know-before-the-2020-elections-roll-around-13156367.
Allen Woods is a freelance writer and author living in Greenfield. Comments are welcome here or at awoods2846@gmail.com.