The end of this story isn't written

During college, I was in a political theory program whose verbose name brought me great joy: Justice, Morality, and Constitutional Democracy. Of the three, the latter seemed like the solved problem. There was the rich history of how it began, and of each generation who sacrificed, fought, and steadfastly stood their ground to strengthen, defend, and most importantly, expand it so that everyone was included. If we had a responsibility, it was primarily to appreciate it.

One of my favorite quotes comes from Gerald Early in a Ken Burns documentary: “When they study our civilization 2,000 years from now, there will only be three things that Americans will be known for: the Constitution, baseball and jazz.”

Three wonders of this world. If you were placing bets 25 years ago on whose future seemed most tenuous, most would’ve chosen jazz. As someone immersed in the creatively, if not financially, thriving jazz scene, I'm happy to report that's not the case.

The Constitution and our democracy, however, are struggling. I read these words yesterday with a heavy heart:

If you were hoping things would be stopped before it was too late, know that it is already too late. We are no longer operating by the rules we once took for granted. We no longer live in the democracy we once enjoyed.

It’s difficult to read and process. I recommend the full post. There seems to be a lot of waiting for a defining line to be crossed, one that's indisputable. Now it’s real. But things are happening extremely quickly and we’re all trying to live our lives, enjoy baseball games, and go to jazz shows. I don’t know how you can function without narrowing what news you see or choosing one cause and setting others aside.

The big picture isn’t blurry, though, it's clear. Do you remember the many articles and books explaining what might happen and how? Phrases like "the authoritarian playbook" and "how democracies die" have become part of the vernacular. If it all sounded over the top, alarmist, that's understandable. We’ve been taught that we are unique, an example to the world, the pinnacle of democracy. Freedom, the rule of law, and our constitutional rights are fixed (easier to believe if you are white and male), not fluid. They don’t have to be defended, they just are.

The steps that were outlined again and again have been methodically taken. Every few days, there's another escalation so that where the line was last drawn is never too far away. Compared to last week, it's just a small step. Compared to our history, though, it's a stunning leap. We're experiencing what other democracies have faced before us—a sharp turn toward authoritarian rule under the fig leaf of democracy. Some have turned back, others have succumbed and now cosplay as democracies. It's the story of Hungary, which sounds remarkably familiar.

If you ever wondered what you would do if something awful happened to other people in your country, how you would behave when that historical moment came, when your country needed you, stop wondering. It is happening now. What you are doing is what you are doing. You are living in that moment.

Last month, I donated to organizations working to make things better. Today, I wrote this post. And later, I’ll join my friends, neighbors, and church at a rally downtown. Millions of people across the country will do the same.

I don't think it's an adequate response to the moment. In the world of activism, I feel like an undersized freshman on the JV basketball team who was sure they wouldn't have to play. We must believe, though, that each small act makes more acts by more people more likely. Hopelessness is the surest path to defeat.

The present is bleak, but that doesn't mean the future is. I love this country and believe its roots of justice, morality, and constitutional democracy are too deep to be toppled by this storm.

The end of this story isn't written. It is ours, and ours alone, to write.