Wrong You Are: There Is Always Try

“Do or do not. There is no try.”

---Yoda

 

Ok, who am I to argue with a tiny Star Wars puppet that is beloved by so many, but…sorry my little green friend, you are so wrong. Because we are on this frustrating pandemic times calendar shift, it’s finally graduation season. Well, at least it is at my house. If I might just brag for a quick second, since December, my daughter has held a co-op job at a medical practice, passed the state boards for cosmetology, passed the state written and practical exam to be an EMT, and passed the national EMT license exam. She also navigated losing her last season of track, kept up with her duties as a class officer, and arranged college classes for the fall. I mostly stood by watching, and occasionally writing a check. The rest was all her.

 

Sure, that is a lot of doing. However, if you think there was no trying behind that, you’d be wrong. Like all of us, she tried, tried, and tried again. Also, like all of us, some of what she tried didn’t work out so well. And so it goes. We were chatting about everything that’s coming up for her in the next few months, and there will be a ton of choices she has to make. It’s daunting when you think of it.

 Last week I talked about decisions, and the times we have to choose between multiple options, even when none of them are ideal. There’s a big decision coming in November, and it’s going to be wicked hard for me to look at all the facts, search my soul, and try to pick the right one. So far, I think carrot cake will be the winner. Come November 6th, my birthday cake will be carrot cake, with cream cheese frosting. Decision 2020, made.

Kidding aside, I know that the Yoda quote is supposed to be inspiring, but honestly, it’s not for me. It's like this. I’m a big fan of space exploration. The research, the cutting-edge technology, the going where no man has gone before and all the rest is exciting, and, in my opinion, crucial to our survival. The Star Wars movies get that. Sure, it's fiction, but they show us that there’s so much out there. Truly, we should be looking skyward every day and finding new ways to get to, “infinity and beyond.” Space exploration starts with someone, somewhere, saying, “What if we tried this?” If you look back at the very beginnings of NASA, there were a lot of attempts that, well, flopped. Did we stop trying? Nope.

 

As we look toward schools reopening, the economy righting itself, and a political landscape that seems fraught with peril around every corner, it’s important to remember how to try. We need to think of new ideas, even ones that sound a little off the wall. Before this year, who would have thought of a drive-by commencement? Who could have conceived of a virtual baby shower, via a Zoom video call? An event I always love to attend is Harrington Reads, at Harrington Elementary in Lynn. I get to meet young readers, authors, and educators and share what they love about literacy. This year, it went virtual. All videos, posted on YouTube. It was that or cancel it altogether. Someone was smart enough to ask, “What if we tried to…” and then made it happen. That is try. It leads to doing, but first, there is try.

 

So far no one has asked for my advice on any of the conundrums we are facing, but, for the record, here it is: There must always be a way to try. No doing can happen before we dare to try. If you’re job hunting, try looking in a field you might not have considered. If you’re facing a decision on whether or not to send your kid back to school? Try it, see what happens. If it’s not the right move, move on to another option. My father was always spewing forth what he thought were incredibly wise words. Some were, and others, not so much. One of my favorite pieces of advice from him was this: “Brenda, the only part of your life that will be carved in stone are the dates on your headstone. Everything else is up for grabs. Try it all. If one path doesn’t work, go another way. You’ll get there.”  He was so right. Let’s keep trying.

 

 

What a Long Strange Trip It's Been

So…what’s new? Did you miss me? Ha! Kidding, of course. For the record, I have missed writing in this space, and it’s great to be back. Because the Wicked Local/Marblehead Reporter staff is so fantastic, the decision was made to suspend this column during my campaign for school committee. No candidate should have the advantage of weekly ink, so a break was best, and this paper is lucky to have editors and staff that have the integrity to know that. 

The totals are out now, and it’s clear that I did not win a seat, but it doesn’t matter, they have a full board now, and everyone on it will be awesome. What I learned running for office was worth every minute of the last six weeks. First off, I was not paying enough attention. I didn’t get into the race until the last day to file papers, and that’s on me. It may have been a late start, but hitting the ground running is a specialty of mine. Literally, every time I run, I eventually hit the ground. Wait, that’s not what that expression means is it? Anyway, when I ultimately decide to do something, I go full bore at it, much like Wile E. Coyote going over a cliff strapped to a rocket. My father, who was successful in all of his elections for school committee back in the day, always said, “Go big, or stay the hell home.”  OK, Dad, I did. And boy does that ground come up at you fast.

Now, I am educated; I earned a degree in English with a minor in Political science, but that was :::mumblemumble::: something years ago and none of those classes in constitutional law or political theory helped at all. Running for local office (and Tip O’Neill was right when he said all politics is local) is a process that while phenomenal, and a reminder that democracy lives, is one heck of a ride. Here’s what I learned.

1)    Tim Green at Ace Hardware is the helpful hardware man. If it were not for him, I would likely have put out an eye trying to load the heavy-duty stapler. I know I should all be all “Hear me roar” because capable women rock, but sorry, I grew up in the sixties, the only power tools I got to use were a hand mixer and a blender. Once I had it down though? I was a stapling champ with my signs and my posts.  Tory, another capable woman who, unlike me, can saw stuff in half and use a hammer without winding up the ER was there to help too, and it wouldn’t have happened without her.

2)    People are amazing. Sometimes. I had the great fortune to have good friends helping me, from running around in my car deploying signs, to coming to coffees and helping me organize events and social media. There were also a few who were not so amazing, but that’s what politics is. A whole bunch of people, all of whom have opinions. Clearly not everyone agreed with me on some issues, but that’s a good thing, in my opinion. If you want to have a real community where all are welcome in the process, you’re going to have those with whom you disagree. Talk to them anyway. And keep talking.

3)    Being on television, even a local access program, is gut-wrenching for someone like me with no fashion sense and no filter.  While there were only a few events that involved video, it was enough to send me into a writhing anxiety attack in front of my closet of boring mom clothes.  The League of Women Voters put on an amazing event to showcase the candidates, and my goal was to not get freaked out and let loose with my normal “colorful” vocabulary which is that of a well-educated sailor. Members of my family bet me I couldn’t do it. Ha, at least I won that round.

4)    Rain at 5pm on Election Day is a dream killer, especially when it comes with thunder and lightning. Many people vote after work, but in a downpour, not so much. And so it goes.

5)    Saying “I should” about something, but never actually doing it is for losers. So my campaign didn’t work out, so what? What did I lose? One thumbnail, a few bucks for signs and some votes. No biggy. I met people, I learned about a process from the inside out and I only fell down once, and thankfully I wasn’t carrying the stapler at the time. Don’t say, “I should” when “I will” is what is needed to make it happen. Good luck to all of our elected officials. They’re going to need it. In the meantime, what’s next?