The cries for reform have grown louder in the media and on my
social networks. Facebook (my personal
universe barometer) reveals a very stark contrast between the two sides. Some voices echo strongly Charlton Heston’s
famous “From my cold dead hands” statements while others argue for the
confiscation of most or all the firearms currently in private hands. These two sides seem to be at an impasse – and
each time one side voices its position, the other side is whipped into a frenzy
of passionate rebuttal.
It’s the same kind of rhetoric that pushed me to start
this blog last month, and it’s as predictable as it is exhausting. But that’s not what I want to talk about
today.
My friend, over the course of our conversation, expressed
some fairly passionate opinions on the issue and seemed to be pressing, by the
end of the conversation, for some kind of action that she could take to help
make change happen. There even seemed to
be a hint of challenge in her words and her tone – a suggestion that people who
talk but don’t act share some measure of culpability when bad (and perhaps
preventable) things happen.
This got me to thinking.
My response at the time was that I feel too far removed from the intricacies
of the problem, the history of the debate, and the wheels of power
to get involved in any kind of meaningful way.
As honest and real as those reasons are, they felt kind of weak in the
moment.
But I’ve had time to reflect since then. In a society as large and complex and
interconnected as ours it’s easy to feel like one’s voice – let alone one’s actions – is too small to have a real impact on our society. We live in an age where it’s easy – and almost
unavoidable – to get a lot of (often highly charged) information about today’s
current events and hot topics and to get all riled up about the latest
crisis. For an avid news and information
consumer like me this can lead to a lot of angst.
As I’ve reflected on my role my mind keeps coming back to
the many young lives I’ve been privileged to impact through coaching. I didn’t set out to be a ballroom coach
because I felt passionate about gun control, women’s rights, access to
education, gay rights, government entitlement/tax/fiscal policy or any number of
other pressing social or political issues.
Nevertheless, I am hard pressed to think of a more effective way that I
could have made a difference in all of these areas over the last 10 years than
by serving in that capacity. As a coach
I have spent countless hours in groups and in one-on-one conversations speaking
with young people about the problems and opportunities in their lives. I can point to many doors opened and many
perspectives broadened due in part to the influence that I have wielded. While it is very rare that I preach any one side
of an issue in those settings, I always do my best to leave my students feeling
empowered and capable of tackling hard problems.
Evaluating and accepting my role in this big society is an
ongoing exercise. It’s something that’s certain
to evolve and change over time. For now
I am content to leave the larger societal issues to those who are (hopefully!)
more informed and who have the power or influence to make the right thing
happen. I will continue to support their
efforts and try to stay informed and involved in the democratic process. But I’m going to spend less time worrying
about all the ways that I can’t possibly matter in this big puzzle and focus
more on the areas where I just might make a difference.
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