From the time I was a kid, I questioned authority. The late 1960s was a good time for me to come of age because other people were questioning authority too. This time reminds me a lot of that, except nobody seems to care as much about corruption in high places and there’s nobody like Bobby Kennedy to take a stand for the poor.
I attended my share of peace rallies and walked in don’t-buy-California-grapes picket lines. I’ve covered social justice issues at newspapers for 25 years now. Well, 23 — my first two years in the daily newspaper business were spent covering business. I still remember the smarmy chamber of commerce creep who kept calling me sweetie until I refused to speak to him — or cover the chamber — until he addressed me by my name.
Anyway, social jusice has been a passion all my life. But when Mike died, something changed. Newspaper people are supposed to be above it all, neutral and completely unbaised.
But how can we say we’re fair when we see the horrible things going on and still seek to get the opinions of people who support the greedy, corrupt power structure? Sometimes, the story isn’t about getting both “sides.” Sometimes there’s just one side and that’s the side of justice.
A friend told me the other day that I didn’t choose this mission, it chose me. Maybe so, but I couln’t embark on this without the support of a lot of people, including my employer. A lot of newspaper bosses would tell me I have to choose: the issue or my job. My publisher, Randy Hammer, has encouraged me to follow this path that unfolded before me when my child died because he didn’t have insurance. In today’s corporate America, it’s too often about the rules and company policy and not about the human beings doing the work. Randy has encouraged me to follow my heart and I’m really grateful for that.
I also have the encouragement of friends. People from my church and others are always eager to hear the latest. Tomorrow, the women of my church sewing circle will help me make and design the banner we will carry at the rally. Friends will pray with me before I go to Savannah, and pray for the success of the rally there.
I didn’t choose to lose a child. I didn’t choose to become an activist. But here it is. I never understood when I was a child and my grandmother told me, “the Lord works in mysterious ways.” But the strength I’ve found has come from somewhere outdside myself.
Maybe it’s Mike, egging me on, hoping I can create some trouble in his name.
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