The other day I contributed comments to a political blog. It’s kind of out of character for me and something I rarely do. I prefer story telling. But I was moved to address the apathy, yes apathy, of some Americans and the lack of participation in our political process. Of course, being a Democrat, I was addressing my disappointment in the last election. But it’s so much deeper than any particular political party and so much bigger than money.
Now. (Yes, “now” with a period. It’s a complete statement. I learned it from my mother and it has infinite meaning. More on that another time.)
Now. (again) These are the things I am passionate about.
Optimism. Compassion and loving kindness. Service. Food (always.) And — owning the political process. Speaking truth to power. WE are the power.
I can’t help but wonder how an astonishingly astute population can languish in such an astoundingly apathetic civic consciousness (Nope. that was not a two syllable sentence). Not until the current demonstrations — extraordinary in the tens of thousands — about police shootings of unarmed black men have I seen such a conscious unified movement. Folks are actually protesting for human rights issues in the United States. It reminds me of my own coming of age in the 60’s and, by God, it makes my heart glad!
Now let’s see…
Apathy: Indifference. Lack of concern. Lack of interest.
Truth: Webster defines it as a case or idea accepted as true or a statement of fact.
Well. Here is a statement of fact. We have become a nation filled with pitifully apathetic people who do not or cannot understand that our participation in the political process is as necessary as breath is for life. Eating, sleeping or, er um, copulating is not required for political freedom; showing up is the requirement. We vote. We try to educate other voters. We help build a free and democratic society brick by intentional brick.
All this talk — blah, blah, blah — about speaking truth to power can be so much wasted oxygen. We help speak truth to power by being a part of the process.
Sigh.
City Council, Mayor, and elected local leadership; County leadership; State leadership; national representation; president. Brick by effing brick. It’s not enough just to vote for the president.
What we have to understand is that folks are ignorant of how democracy works. Over decades, folks have come to believe that all they need to do is vote for the top.
Sigh. The presidential vote is not the sum total of our responsibility for living in a democracy. No matter what barriers are erected (district redistribution, voter ID laws, etc. –and folks will try to stop you) to negatively impact potential nonwhite and non wealthy voters, we who care about the quality of the political process and how that process affects our lives on a daily basis cannot underestimate the importance of participating in local to national elections of our legislators.
But folks don’t know how our political process works. I love this website: https://www.icivics.org/
Former Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O’Connor is the chairperson of the board of this organization that helps folks understand the way our system works. Please pass it on.
“Speak truth to power” is a great principle. But a great principle is only great when the folks living by that principle make it so. Speak truth to power. We are the power, folks. The truth shall set us free.
That’s my story and I’m stickin to it.
Technology. Seniors. Connectivity.
The Affordable Connectivity Program (ACP) was developed to make broadband internet services accessible to low-income households. Sadly, the program has been discontinued – a casualty of legislative haggling.
The Federal Communications Commission (FCC) reports that initial funding for the ACP, which provides subsidies to eligible participants with internet service provider (ISP) contracts, ended in June of 2024. Additional funds were not approved during Congressional budget negotiations. Perhaps some legislators were clueless; maybe others just didn’t care about the needs of isolated seniors, students needing access to learning options, residents of tribal lands, and rural communities. Perhaps some legislators just plain ignored the fact that internet access is often critical for medical care, jobs, social security, Medicare, and housing information. It’s a situation fueled by unkindness.
Several ISPs, in an unexpected Godsend, have stepped up to fill gaps left by the termination of funding.
I live in a township with a large and diverse senior population. Over the years, I’ve met several residents who embrace technology for all that it can offer. In other words, more than just email. Some residents, however, are nervous about online usage, even as they recognize the advantages technology offers. Some do not know how to use a computer. Yes, that’s a thing in 2024. Some simply cannot afford the costs of internet service providers and they are left out in the cold. That’s where ACP is beneficial.
I get it about distrusting online activity. There are dangers out there.
Targeting of seniors by scammers is high. Media coverage of identity theft has panicked women I know. There are also challenges that include “clouds,” automatic updates, and social media misinformation and untruths. I know a woman who was targeted by a man looking for lonely seniors in order to steal hard-earned savings. She lost a significant amount of money.
And my personal gripe – no exaggeration here: I loathe the hours I spend with technical support associates who don’t know their jobs. So yes, there are real inconveniences with the internet.
My point is that isolation for those without the internet is real ─ and alarming. A woman in my building told me about her feelings of isolation and depression during the pandemic lockdown. Unfortunately, there were no “pods” in this seniors’ building to help alleviate loneliness. The value of connecting with others and receiving ─ sometimes lifesaving ─ information through the internet cannot be overstated. ACP support for internet access is critical.
────────────
It was 1995, I think. I remember it was around 11 p.m. The neighborhood children were in bed and the streets were quiet in Oakland, CA. I poured a glass of wine and relaxed in front of my new gift. It was mid-summer, but it felt like Christmas morning to me.
My employers, God bless ‘em, who were software developers, had given me one of the company’s old IBM personal computers. It was a clunky machine that put me over the moon. Taking a sip of wine, I stared at the dark screen.
────────────
Six years prior, I worked at a college that had invested in computers and software training for some of its administrative staff. I was fortunate to be included in the training. Although cautious about the technology, I was excited.
We had to learn a lot quickly. Word processing software felt complex to an administrative staff that had been swatting away on Selectric typewriters ─ some of us for decades ─ using typewriter correction tape, inserting carbon paper for duplication, and making countless trips to a mimeograph room.
Some quit the training, preferring to stick with typewriters until the new technology was mandated. I chose to struggle on. It would serve me well. Like the delight of discovering a new bread recipe, meeting a new man, or watching buds on a tree become leaves, I was filled with excitement. Life was taking on new energy.
────────────
I turned on the computer. MS-DOS loaded, and things took off from there. I don’t remember the internet icon. Netscape? Maybe. The guys at work must have given me a password because suddenly there was the twittering, singsong beeping of the “handshake,” and the image of a globe appeared on the screen.
Scooching closer to my desk, I anticipated a new world with cultures and places vastly different from my own: different languages, ways of walking and talking, and delightful food traditions. I never looked back. The internet allowed me to “get off my block” and fully engage with the world. Technology saved me.
────────────
Fast forward to 2020 and the pandemic lockdown. I loved being alone but was missing in-person connections with friends. Then. Along came Zoom.
It saddens me that seniors and other isolated citizens need, but can’t access, broadband internet. Online access allowed me to attend community and civic meetings, free and live performances from the Royal National Theatre in London and other entertainment, visit with friends from afar, and participate in myriad activities and make connections during the Covid lockdown. Again, technology rescued me.
No one should be without broadband in a world where, some say, another pandemic is imminent. Come on legislators. Quit haggling. Include the ACP in September’s budget talks.
Leave a comment
Posted in Writing from the heart
Tagged Affordable Connectivity, Aging, Commentary, editorial, internet access, internet service providers, Legislative haggling, Life Stories, Opinions, political process, Reflections, senior isolation, seniors and technology, technology access, Unkindness