A Wild and Stormy Night

Last night felt like a wild and stormy night.  We saw the menace of a category 4 storm headed towards the Texas-Louisiana coast.  That section of the country spent the night with a storm that should be a once in a century kind of occurence--except that for the past several years, we've had this kind of storm once a season (Dorian, Michael), and sometimes more than once a season (Maria, Irma). 

Yesterday, I made this observation:   In the 11 a.m. Hurricane Laura Forecast Discussion, which is different from the actual advisory, I saw language that the National Hurricane Center has never used (at least in discussions and advisories that I've read, and I've read a lot of them): "Unsurvivable storm surge."

I was most concerned with Hurricane Laura, so I wasn't following the other storms. But there were plenty. 

There was the Republican National Convention, which you may or may not see as one of the storms.  The campaign season certainly feels stormy to me, regardless of our political stance.

There's the ongoing protests about racial injustice, most lately in Kenosha, Wisconsin; I completely missed the story about the white male teenager who felt he needed to take his long gun out into the streets where everyone was out after curfew; he shot several people at close range.  Across multiple sports, professional athletes refused to play last night to protest injustice.   Games were postponed.  I have never seen this kind of solidarity from so many athletes.

I am holding my breath in fear, yes, but in wonder and in hope for a more equal world to emerge on the other side.  At the same time, I know what we're up against.  

And there's the ongoing storm of a new corona virus which is finding plenty of places to spread--such a contagious creature, and we're lucky it's not more deadly.  That said, the death rate is more savage than the flu or other contagions that sweep across our societies on a regular basis.

Often these days, I find myself thinking about the unrest of the 1960's.  When I was younger, I asked my parents about their memories of that time--the books I was reading made it sound like everyone went out every week-end to protest the Vietnam War, and I was astonished to hear them say that they were never in a place that had that kind of protest, that they were just living their lives, trying to raise their young children, going to work, that kind of thing.

Now I understand.  I'm rooting for social change, yet I'm not at the point where I'm going to take to the streets in unpeacable assemblies.  Nineteen year old Kristin might judge me harshly, but midlife Kristin can see multiple points of view.  There are parts of society worth keeping, and someone has to tend to those tasks.  Nineteen year old Kristin would mutter about cop outs and rationalizations, but she's so very angry and judgmental.  Midlife Kristin is so very tired, but she keeps going to work anyway, taking temperatures so students can go to their labs and writing/editing accreditation documents so that the school can stay open.