When I was a community organizer working on the south side of Chicago in the mid-1980’s, I would come home for the holidays angry. I worked in neighborhoods where most residents were simply trying to survive, and I struggled with the contrast of a family and social circle for whom choices and opportunity were everywhere.
The Reagan Revolution was underway, and I was learning that decisions made by politicians and the political donors who funded their campaigns directly impacted the severity of both poverty and wealth. It made me angry.
I mostly accept nowadays that life for Americans is very different at the top and bottom thirds of the economic scale, but flashes of anger at the injustice come back at times. It happened last Saturday night as I spoke to residents assembled at The People’s Park across the street from the Arundel Center for the annual Longest Night Homeless Persons’ Memorial Service. I noted to this group of service providers and advocates that any forthcoming federal decisions to defund the social safety net, add tariffs to the cost of goods, deport essential workers, and dismantle public health programs would put more people out of their homes and onto the streets.
I also told them of my faith that we, the people, would respond with solutions.
I got three books for Christmas, each from a different relative, and each with a message for these times.
Tightrope: Americans Reaching for Hope, by Nicholas D. Kristoff and Sheryl WuDunn describes the tightrope being walked by working class communities, families, and individuals living with the decisions that politicians have made over the past fifty years. It’s personal stories behind grim statistics, like that the United States has dropped its global ranking to 41st in child mortality, 46th in internet access, 44th in access to clean drinking water, 57th in personal safety, and 30th in high school enrollment. It also links the statistics to policy decisions made by both Democrats and Republicans.
I’ve only just started to read it, but knowing that many of the rural and small town communities described in the book delivered the Presidency to Donald Trump, I am looking between the lines for answers. How did mainstream politics fail these people, and what would it take to restore their trust in public institutions?
Think Again, by Adam Grant might offer some answers, for me as a government leader and for all of us as frustrated Americans.
The book hit #1 on the New York Times Best Seller list, and Grant is an organizational psychologist at The Wharton School. He makes the case that for individuals, organizations, and communities, the simple act of rethinking what we believe to be true is a superpower that all of us can learn to use.
I intend to read the book, but all I had to do was read the front and back flap to know that he’s onto something. I’m six years into an eight-year job leading Anne Arundel County government, and while it’s tempting to rest on laurels, it’s actually inspiring to question whether I have gotten things wrong, whether Democrats have gotten things wrong, and whether voters, business people, and government people have gotten things wrong. When you notice me sitting down with Republicans to pick their brains, and meeting with groups I’ve never met with, know that I’m simply rethinking.
Alexei Navalny: Patriot, is the new memoir by the brave Russian opposition politician who died this year in a Russian prison. I haven’t dug in yet, but I will because I, like most Americans, have very little sense of what it’s like to do politics in a place like Russia. We’re not there yet, but if the incoming president follows through on his campaign promises to use the justice system and the military against his political opponents, the American political arena will change very quickly, and Navalny’s strategies will become more relevant. Whether we get there or not, we should understand what it’s like to seek justice in a system where opposition is not allowed.
This may seem like a pretty depressing holiday message, but it’s not. I appreciate these books from the people I love. I’m glad that I was able to stand out on a cold night with caring people to memorialize 21 of our homeless and formerly homeless neighbors who died this year. And I’m glad to have had some time to reconsider how best to apply the skills this life has given me - to grow the spirit of Christmas, Hanukkah, and all the traditions that celebrate the lengthening of our days and the shortening of our nights.
I hope that you also have absorbed some love and are preparing yourself for 2025. I am convinced that we, the people, will rise to the challenges before us, and continue to grow peace.
Until next week…