State of the Union

First televised in 1947, the State of the Union address traditionally takes over the airwaves on a chilly night in January. Its roots lie in Article II of the Constitution, as the President “shall from time to time give to the Congress Information of the State of the Union, and recommend to their Consideration such measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient.” Based upon that directive, President Barack Obama stood in the House chamber on January 28^th, 2014 to speak to elected officials, Supreme Court justices, invited guests, and the American people as he outlined his perception of the state of our Union (the United States of America), as well as his hopes for the days to come.

Since Mr. Obama’s appearance pre-empted our usual Tuesday night slate of NCIS, I was faced with the choice of re-runs on cable, turning in early with a good book, or performing my civic duty to be an informed and engaged citizen who keeps up with the political happenings in Washington. The prospect of watching one more bathroom demolition was agonizing, and since I was in-between books, I gathered with my husband and son to watch the State of the Union Address.

First impressions? Michelle Obama’s forest green silk Alaia was a great frame for her famous First lady smile. The VP’s spouse, Dr. Jill Biden was lovely in purple, accented with a camouflage cast on her broken wrist, strengthening once again her connection with military families. I do envy the powerful women gathered in the senate chambers, with their wide array of colors and styles, but with my deficient fashion sense, I’d be terrified I’d end up on the worst-dressed list of the night. At least the dark suit/white shirt uniform most of the men chose relieved them of that pressure.

But enough for fashion. I felt sorry for VP Joe Biden and Speaker of the House John Boehner – imagine having to sit alongside the president for the whole speech. I’m afraid I’d smirk, burp, or roll my eyes at the most inopportune moment. For a while, it looked like the Speaker of the House was playing the game where you see how long you can last without blinking. He did quite well.

And the message of the night? Oh, yes, that is the point, isn’t it? When we stop being distracted by the fashion police and the endless stream of tweets, we must hear the message. Jobs and unemployment, financial security and the national debt, immigration, health care, the role of government; they were all spelled out for the American people, couched in the political rhetoric of Washington with a Democratic twang.

Here’s my challenge in listening to the State of the Union address. I kept thinking of the scripture verse from II Timothy 4:3 where people will gather to themselves teachers who will tell them what their itching ears want to hear. So I – and we – have to ask ourselves: are our ears itching? Can we listen and look for the truth, or do we only want to hear what we want to hear?

What shape is our country really in? It’s the same question we ask about our marriages and families, our churches and communities. How can we tell? Policies and pronouncements can distort reality, but in essence, one truth remains. Regardless of what we think of the rest of his speech, President Obama got this right: “It is you, our citizens, who make the state of our union strong.”

The closing image of Mr. Obama’s speech was a young Army Ranger, horrifically injured in Afghanistan. Here’s how the president likened Cory Remsburg’s tough recovery to our American future: “None of it is easy. But if we work together; if we summon what is best in us . . . with our feet planted firmly in today but our eyes cast towards tomorrow, I know it’s within our reach. Believe it.” Yes, we have troubles, but we have hope. Whether in our families, our communities or our country, our “union” is worth fighting for. We can change our tomorrows. Itching ears or not, it’s what I needed to hear on Tuesday night.

The Story of Our Bridge

From today's Ashland Times-Gazette column:

When I read the Times-Gazette report of the recent meeting to sort out what to do with the Rt. 42 bridge that spans Rt. 250 (our Main Street), I was reminded of the nursery rhyme, London Bridge is Falling Down. In that children’s song, a number of alternatives are offered. Perhaps the bridge could be repaired with wood and clay (might wash away), bricks and mortar (won’t stay), iron and steel (will bend and break) or silver and gold (will get stolen).  Ultimately, the nursery rhyme determines that a man should be posted to watch all night (I suppose so that the gold and silver doesn’t get stolen), and, in case he falls asleep, he is to be given a pipe to smoke to keep him awake. Not quite the appropriate solution for today’s world, is it?

What about our bridge?  A recent study showed that the bridge needs major rehabilitation or replacement, for while it may not be falling down yet, it’s definitely seen better days, and the 50+ year old lady isn’t quite tall enough to meet current federal specifications. She was built before I-71 stole away much of her Cleveland to Columbus traffic, and since she doesn’t extend over a river or a railroad track, the question has come up – do we even need her? So what shall we do about our bridge?

Enter ODOT (the Ohio Department of Transportation). This is the section of our “we the people” government that is charged with designing and maintaining our roads and bridges. I’m glad ODOT is working for us, because with their involvement, we don’t all have to be experts on bridge design – we can use the expertise of those with training and experience in the transportation field for that. But I’m also glad that they aren’t the playground bully, insisting on the “my way or else” mode of decision-making. Instead, the representatives from ODOT and Glen Stewart, our Ashland mayor, actually asked the people of Ashland what they think about it!

As Missy Loar of the Times-Gazette reported, Allen Biehl, deputy director for ODOT District 3, said the "worst" projects are those without public input. "It's a big project for the city of Ashland, so we want to get it right," Biehl said. Good for him.

No matter whether we end up with option 1, option 8, or something in between, I’m just glad they asked. While I didn’t attend the meeting, about 100 of my neighbors did, and they (and all of Ashland, through the coverage of the Times-Gazette) got to hear about the possible solutions and to weigh in on their viability.

There is something about being welcomed to the table of conversation that is empowering to both the community and to its leaders. As Nelson Mandela taught us, “As a leader... I have always endeavored to listen to what each and every person in a discussion had to say before venturing my own opinion. Oftentimes, my own opinion will simply represent a consensus of what I heard in the discussion.”

 As I’ve discovered over many moons of life experience, sooner or later someone has to make a decision about whatever the presenting problem is – what to eat for supper, how to manage a conflict, or what to do about our bridge. But I am much more willing to support the final decision when I’ve had a chance to listen and to be heard.  And what’s really amazing is that sometimes, in talking with each other, new solutions are discovered that even the experts may not have considered.  Who would have thought?

The story of the Rt. 42 bridge stands as a symbol of what bridges can do within a community, whether they are brick and mortar construction or the links between people of divergent interests, backgrounds and priorities. Whether the Rt. 42 bridge is restored or removed, my hope is that the connections being formed in our community through ODOT-led discussions, mediation, community-wide forums and conversations over coffee will remind us of the value of shared decision-making and respectful dialogue– building bridges instead of walls.