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01/06/2016 11:01 PMWhen the air conditioning crashed and too many mysterious lights kept popping on and off, it was time to get rid of my decade-old little red Suzuki sedan.
She served me well all those years, but it was time to upgrade to a “grown up” car. I had refused to ever own an SUV, even when the kids were young—just didn’t want to be labeled a soccer mom—the suburban cliché of the day.
But I did get what is now more palatably called a crossover (OK, actually a compact SUV). I needed something bigger and safer in the snow, and my husband’s aging knees and my elderly parents walkers no longer enabled them to easily maneuver in and out of my little car. So I gave in.
I have to admit I actually like the smooth ride, some of the bells and whistles, and the broader perspective of the road it allows me.
But what I did mourn was the loss of my bumper stickers, carefully selected over the last 10 years—from the obligatory kid’s colleges to the wise words of Jimi Hendrix: “Knowledge Speaks but Wisdom Listens”…to all the other artsy, anti-establishment, hippy-ish, feminist stickers reflective of my generation—at least some of us.
But, I didn’t want to mess up my new car (even though it’s pre-owned or, as we used to say, used) with a zillion bumper stickers—although now you can get magnetic ones that don’t ruin the finish on your vehicle. Maybe that’s part of finally admitting my age, I don’t know. But I did know I would carefully choose at least one bumper sticker, and as my older son said, it should be one that really represented the quintessential me—distilled down into one word or phrase.
It wasn’t as hard a challenge as I thought it would be. I went to the very cool Peacemonger.com website and looked at the vast array of bumper stickers—many magnetic—so I wasn’t locked in.
Interestingly, the one that jumped right out at me wasn’t a personal reflection of me, but something I think we as a society need very badly to be reminded of right now. It’s “Practice Respect” with the letters in “Respect” made up of various spiritual and cultural symbols and a Mother Goddess representing the last letter.
I thought about “Tolerance,” but that word always bothered me. It makes me imagine someone sucking it up, wearing a grim expression that says, “OK, I’ll do the right thing and suffer in silence, even if I don’t like anything about you.”
Respect, on the other hand, is exactly what is missing from the current political discourse, from the way we treat “the other” to the fear mania fueled by too many presidential hopefuls, and stoked by the mainstream media.
Respect, to me, is when you truly see people as the complex individuals they are, rather than lumping an entire, race, culture, religion, all together in one ridiculous stereotype.
Respect is when you listen fully—cell phone off, both ears—to what someone else has to say and either change your stand on a previously held conviction or, as the rarely-used-these-days phrase says, respectfully disagree.
Respect doesn’t mean political correctness at all costs—the other craziness that has gone to such an extreme on college campuses and in workplaces. It doesn’t mean losing all sense of humor or not being able to see nuance. It doesn’t mean rewriting every piece of distasteful history, but rather use historical facts as a lesson to teach students about past acts of evil and ignorance, as well as to point out the progress we’ve made in many areas. And we have come a long way, despite all those doomsayers—again, meet the candidates—who, God forbid, ever say anything hopeful or positive about anyone or anything.
Respect means attempting to save the environment for future generations rather than insanely denying that there’s anything wrong.
And that leads me to point out the tremendous number of unsung heroes we have right here in our local community—many are fellow Baby Boomers whom I have had the privilege to write about. Despite the deafening voices of disrespect, they quietly go about making a real difference because they respect themselves, other people, and the planet.
So, yeah, “Practice RESPECT,” that’s my bumper sticker, and I’m sticking to it…unless, of course, another really good one catches my eye. I’ll keep you posted.
Amy J. Barry is a Baby Boomer, who lives in Stony Creek with her husband and assorted pets. She writes features and reviews for Shore Publishing newspapers and is an expressive arts educator. Email her at aimwrite@snet.net or at www.aimwrite-ct.net. Read more My Generation columns online at www.zip06.com.