“Positive cultural change today (as it has always been) is about leveraging your life where you are: by doing small, possible, measurable daily acts of decency, of protest, of advocacy, of collaboration.” ~ John Pavlovitz, The Beautiful Mess, 2.27.25
Red dianthus symbolizes deep love and affection. We’ve ringed our deck with pots of dianthus. It seems like such a small thing yet every time we step onto the deck, we smile. They invoke our affection. They magnify our deep love.
Symbols might seem like a small thing but they reach to the very core of our being. Who in the USA can see a bald eagle and not be taken by the majesty of the symbol? Who in the world can see a swastika and not be horrified by what it represents?
Language is constructed of symbols. We line our streets with universal symbols: stop, walk, yield, green-means-go. We think in symbols. We dream in symbols. We are naive to ignore or underestimate the power of symbols.
The Texas Democrats breaking quorum was a symbolic act. They understand that single-party-rule, as is now being legislated in Texas, is authoritarianism. Their symbolic act has sent a ripple of courage through an otherwise paralyzed Democratic party.
Yesterday I wrote that in the midst of our national horror, each and every day, we ask ourselves, “What can we do?” If I could I would go to the Texas legislature and stand with the Democrats who are now essentially being held hostage. I wish every lover of democracy could show up this morning on the floor of the Texas legislature and say with their presence, “We will not stand for this.” I wish every lover of democracy could show up on the floor of the nation’s legislature with the same message. Enough.
Protests are symbolic acts. So is delivering donations to a food pantry. John Pavlovitz reminded us this morning that the answer to our question, “What can we do?” need not be grand. In fact, we need only look around our community and, as Ann used to tell me, “Find a need and fill it.” Offering a helping hand is a symbolic act.
Calling out the national guard without reason is a symbolic act. Signing meaningless executive orders to do away with mail-in-voting is a symbolic act. Both are in direct opposition to these symbols: The Declaration of Independence, The Constitution of the United States, The Statue of Liberty, The Liberty Bell, The Boston Tea Party…the vote in free and fair elections.
Our vote is now all that stands between us and the loss of our democracy. By-the-way, that has always been true.
Our vote is under assault by a president and republican congress. They are rigging the system to eliminate democracy in favor of one party rule. They assault nothing less than our foundational symbolic action. The Right to Vote.
Our vote, until now, has been the sacred central symbol – the single symbolic act – of our experiment in democracy: rule of, by, and for the people. According to our symbol, our leaders serve at our pleasure. We choose them. If we do not like their actions, we vote them out.
Until now.
Voting seems like such a small thing. Yet, it is everything.
What can we do? Protect your right and mine, protect the right of every citizen without regard of color or gender, to vote in free and fair elections. It is no small act of decency to protect the single, central action, the primary symbol of our democracy, the one thing that you can DO that actually makes the whole country great: protect your right to vote. And then, when the day comes, exercise your right, perform your symbolic act. Vote. It is the very least – and the utmost – you can do.
read Kerri’s blogpost on DIANTHUS
likesharecommentsupportsubscribethankyou
Filed under: DR Thursday, Language, Metaphor | Tagged: artistry, authoritarianism, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, democracy, helping hand, John Pavlovitz, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, story, studio melange, symbol, symbols, Texas Democrats, the melange, vote | Leave a comment »
























Just Look Around [David’s blog on Flawed Wednesday]
If you seek levity, if you are in want of a giggle, may I suggest that you follow Kerri and me through the grocery store and politely eavesdrop on our commentary.
I’m aware that for most people grocery shopping is a chore, a routine obligation. For us it evokes our inner stand-up-comic. Grocery stores tickle our whimsy and unleash tsunamis of sarcasm or impromptu songs. There’s so much material to work with!
“Baby Bok Choy is fun to say,” I mention as Kerri scrutinizes the baby bok choy options. Never one to let an alliteration pass her by, she launches into a lyric, a pseudo-rap personifying the virtues and exploits of the leafy green cabbage. The aisle clears as other shoppers find spontaneous public art dangerous.
Later, using her big, outdoor voice, she reads aloud the list of ingredients on a jar, proclaiming, “Trans-fats! Uh-OH! Get ready! Those MAGA Republicans are going to pop-a-gasket over this one!” Reading on she asks the entire world, “Does anybody really know what butylated hydroxyanisole is, anyway! Who would eat this stuff?”
“What does it meant to be butylated?” I ask, using my quiet indoor voice to model appropriate volume control.
“Don’t be a hydroxy-ANISOL,” she says and smiles. And then: “Someone butylated the baby bok choy…” she declares in mock alarm, unaware that the aisle has once again emptied of shoppers.
I push the cart so I regularly discover that I am holding conversations with myself. When she doesn’t respond to my commentary I realize that some odd grocery item two aisles back caught her fancy. I navigate a u-turn and find her standing incredulous before a multi-layered pastel cake. “Did you seeeee this?!” she exclaims.
“No.” I say.
“Oh. My. God!”
“What is it?”
“Have you ever seen anything so hideous?” she looks at me, wide-eyed.
“What is it?”
“The thought of eating this makes my teeth hurt! Doesn’t it make your teeth hurt?”
“What is it?”
“Who would ever think this was a good idea?”
“What is it?”
“And they made it Easter colors so people would buy it? Do you think people actually buy this?”
“What is it?”
“No wonder this nation is in trouble. People will eat anything!”
“Oh, it’s fox news!” I blurt, “In a cake!” A revelation.
She looks at me as if I haven’t been listening, “It’s a cotton-candy-cake!” she says, a new alliteration rising.
“Yeah. That’s what I just said. Fox news.”
“Who eats this stuff,” she asks, wrinkling her face.
“Just look around.” I say. “Sad.”
It makes my teeth hurt.
read Kerri’s blogpost about COTTON CANDY CAKE
likesharesupportsubscribecomment…thankyou.
Filed under: Flawed Cartoon Wednesday, Flawed Wednesday, Language, Metaphor | Tagged: alliteration, artistry, baby bock choy, commentary, cotton candy cake, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, grocery shopping, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, lyrics, poetry, story, studio melange, the melange, whimsy | Leave a comment »