Hope over Fear

“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself” Franklin D. Roosevelt

We have all heard this famous quote. We were raised in a world that has the capacity to destroy itself in an instant. I never really understood the words uttered by FDR at his first inauguration. It has been re-quoted over and over by people of every political viewpoint. It has been used by both well intentioned people and those who seek to do evil.  These words feel powerful and reassuring, but in such a way that they can be easily manipulated by anyone for any cause of action. We were taught these words, but rarely were made aware of the context in which they were used. In my life, I do not recall ever having an in-depth conversation about what having only fear itself to fear means. But the world is once again at a key juncture in which we must choose between fear and hope. So, as I read an article by David Brooks in the New York Times just now, I realized that the meaning of Roosevelt’s words should have long been clear to me.

Division leads to fear. Fear is vulnerable to authoritarianism. Fear keeps us in our place, paralyzed into complacency. Or fear makes us admire those who are angry and lashing out at others in an effort to further divide us. Fear allows those who hold power to define who we are, while hope allows us to decide who will hold power. That’s why oligarchs, aristocrats, and autocrats want to crush hope and instill fear. I have been learning to play The Beatles song LET IT BE on my keyboard. There is a lyric that resonates at this time with me. Paul sings, “For though they may be parted, there is still a chance that they will see. There will be an answer. Let it be.”  Divided we give in to fear. Together we have a chance to see truth.

The meaning of the fear itself quote has been right in front of me my whole life and across all aspects of it. Personal fear inhibits our ability to enjoy life to its fullest. Fear of flying has stopped me from seeing beautiful places that I long to visit. Fear of heights has kept me from standing close enough to the edge of overlooks along the Blue Ridge Parkway to witness the spectacular views in their full context. Fear of poverty has kept me from taking risks that might have improved my ability to provide more abundantly for my family and others.  Fear of not being good enough has limited my desire to play music and sing in front of other people. Fear of the perception of others means that I have never learned to dance.

Over the last two years, I have been making an effort to defeat my personal fears. I have crossed the mile-high swinging bridge at Grandfather Mountain. I have taken guitar lessons and stood on stage at open mic nights playing, singing, failing, and succeeding.  But with each attempt my fear diminishes. Maybe one day I will take to a stage and dance with complete abandon, Mick Jagger fashion.

Public fear has been used to manipulate me, my loved ones, my community, and my country my whole life. It would be dishonest if I said that I had never been manipulated by this type of fear. Shamefully, I have. I have feared people who are different from me in only the most superficial ways. Skin color, hair type, facial features. These fears were instilled in me because the people who held power wanted all of us to be fearful of each other. They wanted us to remain parted so that we could not see the answers. I believe the answer is hope, even as our world is turning away from hope and embracing fear. Powerful men are using fear to re-shape the world order and place us on the precipice of war. And we all know that the next world war will be the last. Fear will ultimately be the driving force behind the complete destruction of humanity, if we allow it.

I will not allow fear to lead me down this path and neither should any of us. The powerful and rich men who drive this fear are short sighted and only concerned with filling their own emptiness with power and material possessions. They will not manipulate us as long as we hold on to hope. Fred Rogers told us to, “always look for the helpers” when we were children. As grown-ups, we must always look for the hopeful to lead us. Those who wield fear over hope do so only to further their own agenda. Donald Trump told David Muir in an interview, The World is an angry place.” Donald Trump is an angry man, but my world is a hopeful place. A place where all we have to fear is fear itself.

Losers and Trump's Locomotive Breath

“In the shuffling madness
Of the locomotive breath,
Runs the all, time loser,
Headlong to his death.”

Jethro Tull

If I had a flute, I would be wailing away on it right now. Ian Anderson style. Blasting it with no regard for how the instrument was intended to be played. I feel like we are all inside that song right now. Locomotive Breath. The song begins with a foreboding piano solo in which the dark ride about to begin could easily be overlooked. The piano piece is pretty and sounds a lot like complacency. It’s not going anywhere, but there are sad undertones in the notes. But then the piano marches into an unmistakable train cadence. The passengers are probably feeling pretty comfortable and confident at this point. Just a normal train ride with a competent Conductor. But then the band kicks in you know that we are on a runaway train. You can feel it in the guitar and the rhythm. Ian Anderson uses his flute to scream out a warning. The flute pleads for us to notice that the train is headed for catastrophe.

There have been hundreds of songs written about trains. Trains were born to be metaphors. Every word associated with trains seems like the engineers who designed them were thinking about creating poetic devices as much as they were about designing a mode of transit. Think about the words we use when we talk about trains. Locomotive, junctions, cross-ties, tracks, switchman, signals, and crossings. Whistles and bells. Runaway. All of us have been told the story of the little train that could. It had to use all its might to push the big train up the steepest grade. And we hear songs about trains that make it to the downward side of those steep grades and the momentum builds and becomes an unstoppable disaster.

But the runaway train in Locomotive Breath is not out of control because of a steep grade. The conductor has not lost control. This is not a song about a tragic train accident. There is something sinister and secretive going on. A deliberate act has been committed with the intent of setting the train un an unstoppable crash course. “Charlie stole the handle and the train it won’t stop going. No way to slow down.”

I want to sound out the warning with the ferocious style of Ian Anderson blowing across the flute’s mouthpiece. Some of us heard the piano at the beginning and only heard the pretty notes. We closed our ears to the dark notes of complacency. Some of us hear the piano rhythm plinking out the normal steadiness expected on an ordinary train ride. We imagine that is all this is. Just a normal ride along a new track that the switchman has put us on. Some of us hear the intensity pick up as the guitar, bass, and drums start churning in a way that sounds like mob mentality. The band begins churning up the dirt and soot from the underbelly. It reminds us of the darkness that always resides just beneath the surface waiting for some sinister character to dredge it up.

We are in that part of the song right now.  The flute has started screeching out its warning but only some of us can hear it that way. Some hear it as a call to party, a time to embrace the darkness, a time to forget all that we know is right and give in to greed and the lust for power. Who cares if the children have to jump off a train that won’t slow down.

I want that flute. I want the largest amplifiers I can find. I want to warn that Charlie has stolen the handle and this train is going, it has no way to slow down. But too many passengers are unaware of the fact that the train has been compromised. They are oblivious to the screaming flutes of protests, and news reporters, and the endless tweets from Charlie himself saying, “Yes, I stole the handle, the train is going, and it cannot slow down.” Charlie is a loser. Charlie is jealous. Charlie wants to hold all the power. Charlie is setting us on the ultimate crash course. Pick up a flute and sound out a warning. It’s going to take us all to stop the locomotive breath. He hears “the silence howling.”  We cannot be silent.

My brother's invention: The Snow Toe Alarm

The Snow Toe Alarm

But everyone had been in such a hurry

Milk and bread to beat the flurry.

It feels so cold and the air seems right

There has to fall some snow tonight.

How could I ever fall asleep?

Not knowing will the snow be deep?

Now it’s late and the truth is cruel.

Tomorrow will come and we may have school.

Please dear snow, start to fall

So that they can make the call,

And declare tomorrow a special day

When kids can slip and sled and play.

It’s time for bed and the air is clear

I close my eyes and face my fear

That I will wake having missed it all

The beauty held in the snowflakes fall

My brother feels the same way too

And so he says, “I know what to do.

I‘ll tie a long string upon my toe

and run it out our upstairs window.”

He will hang a bucket on that string

And it will work like an alarm clock ring

The bucket weighted down with snow

will yank upon his little toe.

He will be wakened by this action

Giving us the satisfaction

Into a deep sleep we can fall

Without the worry of missing it all.