2020 Vision

I have never had perfect vision. In fact, I wear trifocals these days. But I don't need my glasses to see with much more clarity now than I had at the beginning of the year. I have 2020 vision now. Perhaps you do, too.

This has been an extraordinary year by any measure. How many times have I heard someone ask, "what else could happen?" And then we find out. I keep thinking that we must have hit the bottom by now, but then we sink lower. It's been gut-wrenching, to be sure, but eye-opening, as well. The onslaught of challenges and changes has brought deeper perspectives on so many fronts. 

What seems clearer to me now is the breadth of all I have wrongly assumed and taken for granted. My White privilege surely accounts for many of my former assumptions and expectations, but it goes beyond that; I've held -- and still hold -- a number of privileges that have colored my views. 

With the privilege of an able body, I took for granted not only the pleasures of daily exercise and long walks to clear my mind, but also the simple act of being able to stand at will and walk across the room. A broken heel has given me a whole new perspective. 

I have the privilege of living in a historically green and "fire safe" part of my state, in an area that has generally clean air. Many have predicted that my home, the Pacific Northwest, would become a safe haven for climate refugees. Yet the unprecedented and catastrophic wildfires of early September remind us all that there is no safe haven from climate change.

For days upon days we stayed indoors with all the windows closed and the furnace fan running to try to avoid breathing in the dangerously polluted air. Even so, I had a cough, a chronic headache, and constant tightness in my chest. But I am even more privileged. I have a home with windows that tightly close and a working furnace, and our electric bill is paid. I am retired; I can stay home when I choose. And a few weeks of hazardous pollution levels is anomalous in my hometown, not the norm. 

Living through the windstorm and fires gave me a clearer vision of the vast differences between having a home and being houseless, between having utilities and not having electricity. It helped me understand more about what it means to be an outdoor worker, an essential worker, or an emergency responder. It showed me a bit of what it might be like to breathe in the air of Delhi, Karachi, or Hong Kong. It gave me some 2020 vision.

Privileged to live in a first world country, I felt confident that science would dictate the approach to any public health crisis we might face. And having grown up in the era of mass polio vaccinations, I simply took it for granted that our federal government would act decisively to save lives in the event of a pandemic. I now see that I was wrong.

From my privileged position in Oregon, the state where it is easiest to vote, I took it for granted that everyone could easily register and readily vote, that our ballots would be safely and promptly delivered by the U.S. Postal Service, and that every vote would be counted. But this fraught election season has opened my eyes. Now I've seen domestic election interference, calculated disenfranchisement and voter suppression, and voter intimidation that cannot be ignored.   

As an American, I took it on faith that we live in a true democracy, and one that will endure. I thought that our democratic institutions would hold. I believed that our highest elected leaders and Cabinet officers would respect these institutions and would actually support and defend our Constitution. I believed that we had a functioning system of checks and balances. It turns out that we cannot rely upon these assumptions.   

2020 vision again. 

So at last we have come through election day, and once again my vision has been improved. While we don't yet know the final outcome of the election, we do know this: White supremacy was on the ballot, and tens of millions of voters turned out to support it; exit polls suggest three out of every five White voters, in fact. It shocks me only because I have been privileged not to be the target of racism all my life. But it's the message that our non-White siblings have been trying to tell us for so long. In the words of Dr. Eddie S. Glaude, Jr., James S. McDonnell Distinguished University Professor of African American Studies at Princeton University and president of the American Academy of Religion, "this is us."  This is who we are. We must not look away.

We are certain to be examining the lessons of this year for years to come. The question is, how will we make use of our 2020 vision in doing so? It's an especially important one for those of us who benefit from White privilege.

Love,

Nancie/Mom/Mimi/Grandma