A POLITICAL PERSPECTIVE

Does each generation of elders think “This is the end! Life as we know it is on the brink of destruction! I’m glad I won’t be around to see the cataclysm!”?  

In PASSAGES, her book on adult development, Gail Sheehy proclaimed the twenties as the time for “breaking away” - a necessary decade of emotional upheaval before finally allowing the individual to stand alone without the crutches of childhood. 

Are the ancient decades - the seventies and eighties - another version of tearing away from the life we’ve known - a preparation for our next passage, the ultimate lonely jump? 

We expect the twenty-somethings to act out, gyrate from wanting total independence back to needing - metaphorically and sometimes, actually - parental protection. By the end of this transformative decade, we hope that our teenager will be an adult ready to take responsibilities of a grown-up. 

Now I am in the epicenter of the aging years and I swing far into despair and it’s often hard finding the counter-swing back to optimism. And for good reason. In the face of the uprising of horrid movements (fascism, nationalism, white supremacy), for self-preservation, I have nearly stopped watching and reading news reports. I make telephone calls to congresspeople and write Senators and sign petitions but when the votes are taken, it feels as though the side of reason loses anyway.  It doesn’t seem to matter; more to the point, I don’t matter!

Jay Griffiths writes in her piece on Today’s Politics of Hate for Aeon Magazine: 

Fascism begins as something in the air, stealthy as smoke in the

dark. It likes propaganda, dislikes truth and invests heavily in 

performance. It is anti-intellectual and champions a Darwinian 

survival of the nastiest: “Might is Right.”  It detests the natural 

world (biophobia), adores machines and considers 

environmentalism as “Public Enemy #1.

Sound familiar? 

But what if identifying the disease is the first step to returning to cultural health? Is that what this is all about? Then I am among the luckiest generation - a front row seat in the arena of seismic change!  The lion tamers are among us.  Don’t you sense a community growing? Do you notice yourself stopping and talking to people whose aura tells you they need acknowledging just as much as you? Do you see expanding empathy? Does it surprise you that more and more people are talking about getting involved in - anything!? Everywhere I go I sense less hand-wringing and more determination - an “enough is enough” attitude.  

Fascism may begin as something colorless and odorless but I’m betting that it’s counter-weight is blowing right alongside.  I may indeed be an old crank, forever looking in the rear view mirror. My eyes are not what they once were but my perspective is better and I’m not turning over the car keys just yet.   

But seriously, couldn’t the anti-fascist army wear something besides those revolting pink hats?

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A few Cy Twombly paintings. If you happen to find yourself in Paris before Feb. 18, go see his exhibit at the Gargosian Gallery. I would volunteer to go with you but my calendar is full all next week.