That Makes Sense to Me

Photograph taken by the author in the interior courtyard of the New Mexico Museum of Art, Santa Fe, New Mexico. “The Voice of the Earth (The Basket Dance)”, 1934, Will Shuster, fresco 68x46 1/2 in. Funded through the Federal Emergency Relief Agency, 1934.

As I approached a red light on a busy street in Albuquerque two mornings ago, I noticed a bumper sticker— the only sticker on the rear bumper of the SUV to my left. Gratefully, I had an opportunity to read it. “Pro-Child, Pro-Family, Pro-Choice”. Of course, I was curious to see the driver. No surprise. Ordinary 30 or 40-something female, hair pulled back in a short ponytail, on her way in early morning traffic. Was she dressed for work? Is she a stay-at-home mom? Is she even a mother? Who knows. All the above.

Curious what catches our attention. For me, it is just about anything that speaks to my conscience, sense of fairness—not only to myself but to others. Take, for example, a sticker I saw the other day on a trip to Santa Fe—”EVERYONE does better When EVERYONE does better”. My mind played with that for all of 3 seconds, and then I smiled. Makes sense to me, I thought. The older Subaru wagon—a very common site in Santa Fe, bore other stickers—also a very common site in Santa Fe. Social awareness and public expression of consciousness is a common sight here in the land of enchantment. Aside from the sheer beauty of this state, evidence of thriving social conscience is pretty much, well evident, here.

Frankly, these days I have little interest in or inclination toward arguing about matters of social justice. I’ve lived long enough—and thanks to my birth family—I learned about fairness a long time ago. I don’t come from a pack of liberals. I just come from a growing-up family where the so-called golden rule was alive and healthy, even when my sisters and I were too young to understand what that truly means.

Life can be really tough on us. I have to look no farther than my own family—immediate and extended. Now that I live away from my birth family most of the time, I hear about what’s going on from afar. And I have plenty of time to look around me right here and see the aching need for fairness that demands, so clearly, my attention. It’s so easy to have opinions—even though I often think about the process by which these opinions are formed. The words from the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical, “South Pacific,” are never far from my thoughts and they ring clear. “You’ve got to be taught/to hate and fear…”You’ve got to be taught to be afraid…” Every time I notice in myself the instinct to put my foot on another person’s neck—evidenced in feelings of judgment, resentment, an attitude of entitlement, jealousy, control—I like to be reminded, even as the thought or feeling is occurring, that I am out of line, out of alignment.

I realize that the issues that divide us are just that—divisive. That was underscored as I listened to a program on National Public Radio (NPR) yesterday afternoon. The conversation was among a small group of people who were on opposite sides of one of the issues capturing our attention right now, and again. And, big surprise, guess what is at the center of the firestorm—the Church. God save us from people who want to save us. The “Affordable Health Care Act” has been the source of argument since it was passed 3 years ago, and the volatile issues of abortion and birth control are center stage. Without wanting to sound flippant, I am reminded of another bumper sticker I noticed for the first time a few weeks ago—”Against abortion? Don’t have one”. Of course, the proposed legislation is more complicated than that. Do your homework, if you don’t understand. It seems simple and indeed reasonable to me that I can make personal choices that are in my best interest and that do not, do not indeed, infringe on the rights of others. I like being reminded—as in the slogan I saw plastered on the back of an SUV the other day—that being pro-child and pro-family do not exclude having the choice of making a choice.

That Makes Sense to Me—Albuquerque, New Mexico (February 9, 2012)

R. Harold Hollis