§ Treat (a person, group, or concept) as insignificant or
peripheral, as in attempting to marginalize those who disagree. (Google)
§ To relegate to an unimportant or powerless position within
a society or group. (Merriam Webster)
It’s not surprising to learn
from Googling around that more people than ever are using the word marginalized. It certainly describes my feelings these days. Shortly after
I retired five years ago, I decided to reconnect with my local political party. Before completing a Ph.D.
program and taking on a demanding job in a nearby community, I had served the
party and city for almost 20 years as an elected member of the Common Council,
Chair of the Board of Estimate and Taxation, appointed member and officer of
the regional planning association, member of a Charter Revision Commission, member
and officer of the party’s town committee, and chair of my district committee. I
learned quickly that my interest was misguided. New party activists who openly practiced age discrimination
and less seasoned veterans were in a reform-minded place which seemed to brand
anyone who had been around as long as I had, “part of the problem.”
Rules. Many attempts to win friends and
influence people failed. It wasn’t
that I didn’t get a sympathetic ear most of the time, just that others knew
what they were going to do, how they were going to do it, and there wasn’t a
place for me in the plan. Along the way I experienced a problem with party rules
which resulted in a complaint to the state level. I offered to help re-write the party rules with a group
that had apparently been working on this for some time but my offer was
declined. I renewed my efforts over the years with no success.
Last fall I volunteered again in response to an email invitation but
heard nothing more. I finally attended a
meeting in February 2015. At
this meeting my questions about who else was supposed to be on the committee
and whether the leaders had copies of prior complaints to State Central were
rebuffed, at one point described as “stupid.” When several of us tried to help by creating a “red-line” version of the work that had been done,
we were told it was too confusing.
When a member said angrily that “only certain people should be allowed to
serve on this committee,” the other member and I took our cue and left. The experience gave me insights into the ways some people view rules as a way to control and manipulate.
Race. I think of social justice and civil rights as a
journey not a destination. It’s
not something that can be achieved solely through legislation, proclamation or
war. I get it – right now, there is increased tension and unrest in
our country. Unfortunately it seems
to have taken needless, tragic deaths to refocus people’s attention on the work
that still needs to be done. There
has also been a major change in people of color. New immigrants from many countries,
multi-racial citizens, and Latinos have joined African Americans, who typically have deeper, personal understandings of our country’s flawed history and incomplete
civil rights efforts. Instead of redefining
the agenda and beginning the difficult but important work, too many people seem
to be stuck in blame. They seem to operate as if old school identity politics is the
only way to go. Unfortunately that
leaves people like me on the sidelines, marginalized because of skin color.
Religion.
If current racial tensions are
sensitive and painful, it becomes even more confusing and frustrating when
religion enters the picture. What happened to the separation between church and state? Do people believe that convening prominent,
predominantly Christian ministers to lead public community prayers is the best
way to move forward with tackling issues of racism, incivility and injustice?
What about those of us who feel marginalized by this approach? Is there any evidence that people who
engage in public prayer come away better able to build a more just
and civil society, or to deal with interpersonal anger and violence? While time marches on and school
children move from one grade to the next, many who see themselves as
disenfranchised seem to spend more time praying, venting and blaming than working with those who might bring wisdom, experience, and talent to
dealing with social justice.
Respect. For some years I’ve been interested in
civility, specifically its erosion in public discourse. That is why one of my first retirement
ventures involved organizing and convening several community conversations
about civility: What does it mean? How do we experience civility (or lack
thereof) in Norwalk? The past
president of the Association of Opinion Journalists joined us one evening, another time the author of “Saving Civility” shared her work. Great conversations, helpful ideas, and it
was heartening to hear more people talk about how important civility is,
especially for governance and to promote adults serving as role models for young people. However instead of really thinking
about what it takes to change culture and behavior, boards of education,
legislatures and councils, even governors began adopting civility guidelines or
making public events out of signing civility pledges. But the walk
needs catch up with the talk. Good public policies need to have some
kind of built-in accountability or monitoring system to see if they’re having
any impact on how we treat and speak with each other. The good news, an unscientific analysis
suggests people are at least thinking and talking about civility more.
My feelings of
marginalization are based on recent personal experiences with rules, race,
religion and respect. These
experiences have been powerful, sometimes painful, and often demoralizing. But at the end of the day I am a
positive, resilient person who derives strength from my work with young people
and reminding myself of what it means to have come of age in the 60’s. At the end of the day, this is not about me, but how my experiences and feelings may be similar to those of many others who are on the path to disengaging from participatory democracy - or sadder yet, who have already opted out.
