“In adversity, all are equal.” — Publilius Syrus
I have never sought identity from my group, never welcomed the diminution of membership. I was more than my allegiances and stats! I was myself, unique, maybe even special! Labels were libels!
These days I view myself as a soldier. I am my uniform, rank, fellow warriors. What differentiates me matters less than the creed we share. Our opposition defines us. So does our faith.
Who are we? We are people who believe in the dignity and promise of the individual, all individuals, not just the rich. We favor a government that treats everyone equally, justly, considerately; that shares its bounty and offers to all a fighting chance. We believe in an economy that rewards ingenuity and enterprise while caring for all. We believe in the Golden Rule, the Sermon on the Mount, the ideals of our Founders, Lincoln, Dr. Martin Luther King. We favor truth over lies, persuasion over coercion, love over hate. We treat language with respect. We say please and thank you – and “Are you OK?”
Some of us, huddled here, enjoy poems, but all subscribe to the Spirit of Poetry, which is true words for all. Poetry reaches out democratically, inviting all to the feast. Poetry and all careful words seek to gather and console, not divide and deride. We honor those who have thought and spoken with care.
We matter because our values are embattled, threatened, fighting for survival. To our astonishment, our nation and world risk return to barbarism, tyranny, the demotion of the individual to chattel and the enrichment of the few. Most of us did not foresee this lurch; idealists, we envisioned society continually improving in fits and starts. We did not anticipate the indifference, ignorance, and cruelty of our compatriots. Yes, we recalled the examples of Hitler’s Germany, Stalin’s Russia, Mao’s China, but no, never here!
We were caught flat-footed. We shouldn’t have been but we were. That was then. Now we are alert, alarmed, and organizing into brigades. During war all play a part, on the front lines or the home front. Recovering from our panic, we begin to sense the possibility of victory. Our enemy is shedding support, making mistakes. The somnolent are waking to their jeopardy. Decent values may yet be reinstated and enforced. The world we wish for may yet be saved.
Necessity brings agreement, said the Stoics; choice divides. Now necessity is upon us. We must hang together, as Ben Franklin is said to have said, or we shall hang separately.
The Good Morning Project is one small gathering place for fellow subversives. (A dim smoky café during the French Resistance comes to mind.) Our bent here is literary and speculative. In other hideouts, the talk is more of economics, politics, analytics. Some of our heroes flay with humor. Some fulminate from rostrums. But all are enrolled in the same army – the army of the people, of the many against the few.
For almost sixty years I’ve been publishing my thoughts periodically. Never have I felt my words mattered more. I aim now not just to entertain, but to intertwine. To read a poem together is to defy the thugs. To celebrate grace is to decry disgrace. We encourage one another and urge each other to greater exertions.
Literature, we believe here, is not ornamental but fundamental. For words define morality and morality makes humanity worthwhile. Without morality, we are worse than wolves. And we all must participate in civilization’s defense. Suddenly none of us is on the shelf.