Who do we want to be?

(This is Becky's rant. It has nothing to do with music, the band, the guys' views. It's the musings of an unemployed writer and long-time nonprofit professional.)

The 7th grade English teacher at Monte Vista Junior High School was a tough cookie. Mrs. Nuckols directed us with her stern, helmet-haired leadership. I struggled, trying to understand the significance of tomes like "Animal Farm." Discussions of theme, symbolism, and character development made my brain hurt. Her class was a gigantic intellectual step up from elementary school, and my confusion was not helped by my suspicion that Mrs. Nuckols ate children for dinner.

Our final assignment required us to imagine being stranded on a desert island. We had to acquire shelter, grow food, stay warm and, not insignificantly, decide how to behave. What were the rules for living together? How did we make a place for everyone?

I struggled with the assignment, which culminated a multi-page report, an art project, and class presentation. It was all so... much. What assumptions could we make? Could we build in shortcuts, such as indigenous trees dangling exotic fruit? Magic fish that jumped into our hands? My experience in building social structures was pretty much limited to thirty minute tutorials by Gilligan. Could we have a radio? Bananas for cream pie? Cute little shorts and tops that would magically appear in my bamboo closet, ala Maryann?

My report likely didn't inspire anybody to maroon themselves.

But the question -- how do we build a society -- stuck. Here's what I think: the island would have a finite amount of natural resources to plunder, so we'd use what was there and hope for the best. But how would we live together and create meaningful roles and rules? When I supported individuals with disabilities, I saw people with talent, desire, and a deep need to belong to a world the rest of us took for granted. Shouldn't they have jobs if they want them? Shouldn't they vote? Shouldn't they have social lives, family lives, healthy lives, safe lives, and love lives?

Just like all of us?

Or do we?

Here we are in the middle of a pandemic, a financial crisis, devastating unemployment, and world-wide protesting after a black man was murdered by the police in America. Again. I think about the 7th grade English assignment, and wonder if, back when America was a virtual island, we concocted the American Dream to fool ourselves into believing in this land of opportunity and that the promise to the individual (and not the collective) assured even footing and success. But we are all not created equal here. Merely working hard doesn't guarantee shit. Now is a good time to question this... this... mythological American Dream.

Can we figure out how to make room for everybody and stop being up in arms (heh) about, for instance, our freedom to carry an AK47?

Some of our European friends, as usual, are way ahead of us. If a German worker loses his/her job, the government supports them for a generous amount of time until they get on their feet. Nobody judges. They aren't deadbeats: they lost their income source. Healthcare doesn't bankrupt. In fact, if there's a cure to what ails you, you have access to it -- and you don't need to spend down your (and your spouse's) life savings to stay alive. Isn't that amazing? You can send your child to school and they typically come home alive. Citizens aren't uniformly fearful of the police. And -- wait, wait -- this amazes me: there are few nonprofit organizations.

Think about that. There are fewer nonprofits begging for funds to shore up what's lacking. Because there is no need.

And, yeah, taxes are high. As one resident (who is a family member) said to me, "It's the price you pay for a functioning system." It's not perfect. There are glitches. But - wow. Can you imagine a system that works to serve everyone? In my heart, I don't believe it's un-American to consider this. In fact, I'll gladly pony up.

Today, with America potentially hitting ctrl/alt/delete on our societal sacred cows, maybe it's time we start over by thinking carefully about who we are. How we treat each other. How we care for the most vulnerable among us. Don't start with the question, "how do we pay for this?" or -- worse -- "how can I get wealthy from this?" If we believe in our values, agree to support the system financially, the rest will follow.

So now, more than ever, this question must be asked: Who do we want to be?

I want to know.

Mrs. Nuckols is no longer with us. I bet she'd want to know too.