Sometimes a moment presents itself that perfectly expresses such a wide range of emotions that it leaves you fairly breathless.
I had a moment like this last night while I was watching TV. I thought to myself, if someone asked me to sum up for them who I was and where I'm coming from, I would point to this. So I'm pointing now.
The show I was watching was Idol Gives Back. Yes, I watch American Idol. I do generally enjoy it, and yes, I'm aware that it gets a bad rap here at Daily Kos as being emblematic of what people ARE doing as opposed to what they SHOULD be doing. I hear ya, and hopefully if you've known me over the past years and diaries and comments here at dKos, I am exempted from the harshest scorn.
So here's the moment:
Do you recognize that song? It was originally written and performed by George Michael, off of his Listen Without Prejudice album. That has ALWAYS been one my favorite albums, and it was also not very commercially successful. "Praying for Time" is, to me, one of the most beautiful, immaculate, cynical, hopeful, and hopeless songs ever written. Let me help you with the lyrics:
These are the days of the open hand
They will not be the last
Look around now
These are the days of the beggars
And the choosers
This is the year of the hungry man
Whose place is in the past
Hand in hand with ignorance
And legitimate excuses
The rich declare themselves poor
And most of us are not sure
If we have too much
But we'll take our chances
Because God stopped keeping score
I guess somewhere along the way
He must have let us all out to play
Turned his back and all gods children
Crept out the back door
And its hard to love,
Theres so much to hate
Hanging on to hope
When there is no hope to speak of
And the wounded skies above
Say its much too late
Well maybe we should all be
Praying for time
This is the year of the empty hand
Oh you hold on to what you can
And charity is a coat you wear
Twice a year
These are the days of the guilty man
Your television takes a stand
And you find that what was over there
Is over here
So you scream from behind your door
Say whats mine is mine and not yours
I may have too much
But Ill take my chances
Because God stopped keeping score
And you cling to the things
They sold you
Did you cover your eyes when
They told you
That he cant come back
Because he has no children
To come back for
And its hard to love,
Theres so much to hate
Hanging on to hope
When there is no hope to speak of
And the wounded skies above
Say its much too late
Well maybe we should all be
Praying for time
Sometimes such a small thing in such an unexpected setting leaps up to remind me that that it IS my job, as much as possible, to think about, care about, and try to help the least among us. It is ALL of our jobs. We don't save Bear Stearns and call ourselves heroes - we save a life by buying a mosquito net and then go quietly about our day. We become enraged when we hear about everyday people being cast aside by society, being tacitly told that they are somehow less important in the grand scheme of things than someone with greater income.
It's also a small thing that reminds me that I don't do nearly enough. It is a moment of deep personal shame for me, to realize that the reason I'm crying is because, sometimes, I'm part of the problem. But it also renews me, lights a fire under me to work harder - whether that's in donating to worthy causes, volunteering my own personal time, or supporting those whom I believe truly feel the same way.
That song is who I am. It's the best and worst of me rolled into one. It's my principles and values laid bare. And I fight because I know that there are leaders out there - ones I believe in - who watched that and cried at the same time that I did. I'll fight for them because they'll FIGHT, and because they, too, share a sense of responsibility to care for the least among us with dignity and respect.
That's all I really had to say. I hope it made a little sense.
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