OPINION: RIPPLES OF HOPE. REFLECTIONS ON WORK DONE AND WORK REMAINING

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Photo: needpix.com

Stan Rosenberg
Photo: Wikimedia Commons

In this inaugural column for the Indy, I want to recall and celebrate my relationship with my constituents because when I left office unexpectedly, I never got a chance to thank you for the support you gave me over the years. It was a privilege to run every two years as an unrepentant progressive and to win every time. To have a constituency that not only allowed for that but embraced it was truly a blessing. To have supporters that also give you the latitude to embrace compromises that flunked the purity test but passed the progress test. It was a beautiful gift.

And let me tell you why it is so important. When I went to Boston in the 1980s, first as a legislative aid and soon after as a legislator, I, like most 20-somethings, thought I knew a lot. A real lot! I knew what I believed, and I was sure of the righteousness of my beliefs. I thought I had the answers that had eluded others. And I was there to help them find the truth!

It didn’t take too long to realize that, as the old saying goes, “I didn’t know what I didn’t know.” As soon as I arrived on Beacon Hill, I met people of other backgrounds and other perspectives. To my amazement — my naivete — you realize many are smart, thoughtful, and committed. You thought you knew it all and then you get gobsmacked by someone who disagrees, and who has either the power or the know-how to stop you.

You struggle but, if you are smart enough, you listen. Hopefully, you learn. Your views become more textured. Your reactions are less visceral, more thoughtful. 

You realize if you want to get anything done, you need to play well with others. You need to find common ground with your fellow legislators and with affected parties. 

In other words, you have to work the democratic process. 

Some people today think such an approach is out of date, perhaps even naïve and weak. Folks in Washington — on the left and the right — don’t think they have to give to get. COVID-19 has laid bare the limits of that thinking. To address the virus and its victims, Republicans and Democrats in Congress have had to work together. Governors from both parties have banded together in regional compacts, Cuomo and Lamont working with Baker and Sununu. 

Flexibility and openness are essential in legislative work. But no matter how worldly one becomes, it is the core beliefs and values that guide us. 

As a senior in high school, I applied to four colleges, Yeshiva University, Brandeis, BU, and UMass. Yeshiva and Brandeis would have put me on the road to becoming a rabbi. Part of me so yearned to be a rabbi in those days. It seemed the ultimate life of service. And connecting with my community of faith would help anchor me in the world, I believed. 

Then something shifted my ambitions. Both schools rejected me! Heartbreak! But I never lost my interest in communities of faith, of the great religions. While in college, I sang in church choirs, first the Wesley Methodist Church, later at the Grace Episcopal. Through the years, I often visited the Peace Pagoda in Leverett for respite and contemplation.

I attended Hindu services, Catholic masses, and Unitarian-Universalist services. As a legislator, I attended so many Irish and Italian funerals that my Catholic colleagues joked that I knew better than they did when to sit down, stand up, and kneel.

My values are both consciously and unconsciously rooted in these great traditions and the principles they share. Love thy neighbor. Seek a just and peaceful world. Strike out against hate and discrimination. Protect the world we’ve been given. Keep the faith, in times of peace and in times of strife.

When I came to UMass as a kid — a foster kid — I found a place where I could pursue my interests and express my values. A place that believed in social and economic justice. That sought to protect and expand our civil rights. That passionately sought to protect the earth we were given. 

The opportunity I got here took me from a difficult childhood and a rough urban school system to a major university, then to Beacon Hill and, eventually, to the Senate presidency. It is an American story. Opportunity provided and opportunity seized. It’s A UMass story: a celebration of the inherent worth of every human being. It’s why I spent so much time and energy fighting for this campus — for its students, for its funding, for the recognition it deserved. 

That belief, in the dignity of each person and thus the need for social justice for all, also drove me to make foster kids my crusade. These children, these wards of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, are entrusted to us when removed from their homes. More often than not, leaving their homes, no matter how awful the home might be, is wrenching. And it often leads to more tragedy. A child must wait for a temporary home, only to be ripped away just after getting comfortable, probably put in another temporary home. They live and relive the trauma of separation. If they’re lucky, they eventually land in a permanent home. If they’re even luckier, it is a loving home. 

They deserve better. They deserve what most kids have. Safety. Stability. Freedom from neglect, shame, and bullying. Saving these kids really does help save humanity, really does mean we’ve built a more just, equitable, and compassionate society. During my years in the Senate, we made progress in helping these children. But the work remains. We’re not obligated to finish it, but we must keep doing our part. 

Together, we’ve made these and many other just causes — marriage equality, climate change, criminal justice reform, to name a few — our focus, our priorities. We’ve done so because our faith leads us there, our core values guide us there, our hope for a better world keeps us there.

When I was a legislator, I would give many speeches, mostly off the top of my head. Few required contemplation. Few dealt with weighty subjects like why we’re on this Earth. How we make the best use of our time here. What are the values and ideals that should drive us? How does all of this relate to the work we do?

In the past couple of years, I’ve been doing consulting work on issues we all care about: climate change, helping those less fortunate to reach their potential, supporting veterans…providing them with mediation services to resolve conflicts with landlords, government agencies, and others. 

I am still doing my part, I believe. Or at least I’m trying! 

This is what we do. We persist, knowing that what we’re doing today sends at least a small ripple of hope across our community, or our state, or even our world. And our collective endurance indeed does lead to change, to progress, to a better world. 

Based on a speech to the Amherst Unitarian-Universalist congregation on May 24, 2020

Stan Rosenberg is former President of the Massachusetts State Senate.  He is the host of the local government news program Byline on Amherst Media.

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1 thought on “OPINION: RIPPLES OF HOPE. REFLECTIONS ON WORK DONE AND WORK REMAINING

  1. Dear Stan,
    Thank YOU for your many productive years of service to Amherst and UMass! And, I thank you for these profound words of wisdom and hope for a time when
    both seem to have been suppressed forever. Thank you for providing the silver lining to all these clouds of gray.

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