I am going to start this diary off with a bit of a plea for forgiveness. It involves a lot of personal stuff, so it if comes off as self-indulgent, then I hope you, gentle reader, might cut me a little bit of slack. If not, then okay, but don’t say I did not warn you in advance.
Being an activist is a hard thing. There are more defeats and galling compromises than there are clear and clean victories. If we are to achieve anything, then we each have to find those reasons to keep going in the face of the grinding nature of trying to make our city or state or nation a better place.
This can take a lot of forms, it can be a desire to leave our children a better world, an inability to see injustice and walk away or inspiration from people in history or our lives.
A big part of why I fight comes from my parents. They were both born in to huge families and poverty. They both became the first people in their families to go to college and to go on to graduate degrees. This allowed them to make a significant amount of money, and yet they did not just focus on getting their own material rewards. Mom became a county commissioner and worked for the people of her district for 17 years.
Dad was an attorney and spent most of his career working on labor law and suing insurance companies. Today is the sixth anniversary of his death. The first five were really hard, though last year at this time I realized that while I would always miss the man, I no longer felt the need to keep saying good-bye to him as birthdays and holidays passed and he was not there. Time really does heal all wounds, even the ones we think we will never get over.
I was not going to write about this today, as I have done for the past five years, but I realized that I did have one more thing to say about him, or more specifically about what he inspired in me.
Below is the letter I wrote him in a month before he died:
Dear Dad,
I wanted to write you a letter to tell you some stuff. It is not that I feel that we could not have this conversation in person, but every time I tried, I got choked up and, hell, if you try to talk like that all that gets focused on is the crying, you know?
So, what to say? It comes down to just a few things. First off, I want you to know that I have always admired the way that you were able to boot-strap yourself from your humble beginnings through college and law school. Our society values the Horatio Alger stories (with good reason), but it is somewhat rare that you get to meet and know one. You will always be one of my examples of how determination and hard work can take you far.
I also wanted to let you know that you are my primary role model for what it means to be a man. I am not going to gild the lily here, I am completely aware of your strengths and weaknesses. Having said that, I really feel that you have showed the combination of strength and compassion; humor and discipline; and intelligence and knowledge that makes up a good man. If more men could live up to this standard, I think the world would be a much better place. All that I can do is try to set a similar example myself.
The thing that has most affected the way that I live my life is the way that you have lived your life rationally. I do not mean to imply that you don’t let your emotions inform your actions, that is not the case at all. Rather that once you have decided the direction that you want to go in, you consciously use your intellect and knowledge to get it. Beyond that you never shy away from researching anything that interests you or you might need. To few in our society are able and willing to look dispassionately at their situation and form a plan to get from where they are to where they want to be; you have been a master at for as long I have known you.
I want you to know that the things you have stood for in your life, social justice; fairness for workers and the under-privileged ; liberal policy, and a general feeling that government, well run, is a strong and needed force for positive change will have a passionate advocate in me. Wherever I am, I will be speaking of these things, in both of our names.
In the years to come I will miss your advice, and your conversation. I have really valued your opinions, even when I did not follow them. But, I have had the time to know you and will always be able to ask myself, "Now just how would Pop handle this?" and have a good feel for the way out of any situation. I want you to know that I love you and always have. I have been and will continue to be proud to introduce myself as Ron Egnor’s Son.
With Love, Remembrance and Respect, I remain your Son,
B-
This is part of what keeps me fighting. From Dad I learned that there had to be someone who stood up for the little guy. There had to be someone who was not in it just for himself or herself. There would always be plenty of people who did that, but there must be balance if there is to be anything like justice.
Every year on this day, I read that letter, to remind myself of my pledge. To make sure that I am clear as to why I do what I do and to remember that I am not just doing this in my name but his.
This is why I fight because Dad did and he is no longer here to fight. It is not all of my reason to fight, I also believe in social justice and good government. I also believe in the rule of law and the ideal that the Constitution represents, but if those are ever not quite enough, there is the need to keep Dad’s ideals alive and growing. This is what helps me get up when I am knocked down.
So, there reasons for fighting what I hope is the good fight. What are yours? Who has inspired you to keep coming back for more bruises when it would be easier to quit?
Thanks for your indulgence on this post.
The floor is yours.