short attention spans. we americans seem to have eclipsed the rest of the world with these. we are a newsclip-sitcom-youtube-radio-cut-text-tweet-snap-insta society; often anything less than fast-paced will bore the viewer-reader-listener. we have reduced lengthy research to reading cliff notes and have lost interest in the documentary series in favor of the 22 minute-plus-commercials sitcom.
enter a global pandemic. three months now, we don’t have to go far to see that the novelty has worn off. just down along the harbor, up on the sidewalk tables, in the stores and the bars with doors swung wide open, it’s as if it no longer exists. pandemic-shmandemic. the attentiveness of many has been worn down; it is no longer possible for what-seems a vast majority to pay attention. they have moved on. the fire of fear and, thus, responsibility has reduced to a flicker.
we watch crowded streets with people protesting, begging for change, asking for the country to turn around and face itself and the underlying racism that has prevailed for centuries. we march, we chant, we write, we listen to speakers, we read books. it is the latest in the viewfinder for america. it is three weeks now. there is action. can we keep this necessary fire of change lit?
masks-and-distance-for-protection-of-all, action-and-change-for-equity-of-all, step-by-step, learning-by-learning. we all have to stoke the flames of transformation and push back against the ever-inviting-lazy-attention-lost backslide into complacency.
“and let us not stop learnin’. we can help one another be strong. let us never lose our yearnin’ to keep the fire burnin'” (reo speedwagon)