Thoughts from the Editor - “Let’s all go down to the river...”
August 4, 2021
Sheila Harris
Something I really like about living in Cassville is its proximity to Roaring River State Park.
While the Greenway trails in Cassville are beautiful and work well for outdoor exercise when I’m short on time, even better are the roads along the water at the river. Plus, they’re less than a ten-minute drive from home.
Walking along the river in the morning is therapeutic in more ways than one. The temperature in the valley is, on average, five degrees cooler than it is at the top of the hill, and the sound of the rippling water soothes my oft-cluttered mind.
My mind’s certainly been in a whirl after last week’s editorial. Although I wasn’t shocked by some of the negative reactions I received, I was surprised, on the other hand, by the messages of confirmation. Although I appreciate the encouragement, my intention was not to engender it. I just wanted to share my perspective and, in so doing, maybe provoke some thought. I’ll admit, too, that my column was written under duress. It’s hard not to become emotionally affected by some of the news that comes across my desk.
One of the most rewarding conversations I had was with a mother, some 20 years or so younger than me, who disagreed with what she understood that I was saying in my editorial.
Instead of taking a pot-shot on social media, or even rebuking me from behind the anonymity of email, she came into the office and asked to speak to me in person.
Her words melted my heart, as did her presentation. It was obvious when I greeted her that it had taken every bit of courage she had to walk through that front door. Her voice and her hands shook as she handed me a sheet of paper on which she’d written her opposing viewpoint, one to which she added a disclaimer.
“When you read this,” she said, “I just want you to know the message is not directed toward you personally. I wanted to meet you in person to tell you that.”
Then we sat down and talked. She told me that she is terrified of taking the vaccine and even more terrified at the idea of her teenage daughter possibly being required to take it, for fear of the long-term consequences.
Her fear was real. I had no heart for trying to talk her out of it.
The truth is, we are indeed living in a science experiment, as many people are prone to saying in a derogatory manor. We’re trying to beat a tiny virus with the best means currently at our disposal. Those means are subject to change as new information reveals itself.
We are also living in a social experiment, and lots of us are failing the test we’ve been handed.
As I listened to this young mother’s story, I was reminded of my own daughter’s adverse reaction to the Pertussis vaccine when she was an infant. I was terrified and requested that she receive no more of that variety.
That’s the thing about this COVID vaccination program. We all live in different circumstances. Pros and cons must be considered by each of us individually, with an eye for the good of the community.
Advocating against vaccination becomes something less than a personal choice when it’s taken up as a sign of solidarity with a religious or political group, though, every bit as much as a vaccination mandate would be.
I know nothing of the religious or political leanings of the young mother I spoke with, but we met on common ground. Not as lockstep believers, but as mothers concerned for our families.
That type of common ground is what I find most bewitching about my little jaunts to Roaring River.
Everyone I meet there is at peace. I am, too. There’s something in the air that brings out the best in people, perhaps because most of them are on vacation. The river offers a reprieve, a place where we’re all enjoying a common benefit without thought of the divisions which plague us in the “real world.”
Or, wait. Which of these worlds, really, is real? Maybe Roaring River offers glimpses, on a small scale, of life as it’s meant to be lived. Maybe conversations like the one I had with the young mother do, too.
Maybe we’re missing something.
Maybe I’m missing something.
Sheila Harris
Something I really like about living in Cassville is its proximity to Roaring River State Park.
While the Greenway trails in Cassville are beautiful and work well for outdoor exercise when I’m short on time, even better are the roads along the water at the river. Plus, they’re less than a ten-minute drive from home.
Walking along the river in the morning is therapeutic in more ways than one. The temperature in the valley is, on average, five degrees cooler than it is at the top of the hill, and the sound of the rippling water soothes my oft-cluttered mind.
My mind’s certainly been in a whirl after last week’s editorial. Although I wasn’t shocked by some of the negative reactions I received, I was surprised, on the other hand, by the messages of confirmation. Although I appreciate the encouragement, my intention was not to engender it. I just wanted to share my perspective and, in so doing, maybe provoke some thought. I’ll admit, too, that my column was written under duress. It’s hard not to become emotionally affected by some of the news that comes across my desk.
One of the most rewarding conversations I had was with a mother, some 20 years or so younger than me, who disagreed with what she understood that I was saying in my editorial.
Instead of taking a pot-shot on social media, or even rebuking me from behind the anonymity of email, she came into the office and asked to speak to me in person.
Her words melted my heart, as did her presentation. It was obvious when I greeted her that it had taken every bit of courage she had to walk through that front door. Her voice and her hands shook as she handed me a sheet of paper on which she’d written her opposing viewpoint, one to which she added a disclaimer.
“When you read this,” she said, “I just want you to know the message is not directed toward you personally. I wanted to meet you in person to tell you that.”
Then we sat down and talked. She told me that she is terrified of taking the vaccine and even more terrified at the idea of her teenage daughter possibly being required to take it, for fear of the long-term consequences.
Her fear was real. I had no heart for trying to talk her out of it.
The truth is, we are indeed living in a science experiment, as many people are prone to saying in a derogatory manor. We’re trying to beat a tiny virus with the best means currently at our disposal. Those means are subject to change as new information reveals itself.
We are also living in a social experiment, and lots of us are failing the test we’ve been handed.
As I listened to this young mother’s story, I was reminded of my own daughter’s adverse reaction to the Pertussis vaccine when she was an infant. I was terrified and requested that she receive no more of that variety.
That’s the thing about this COVID vaccination program. We all live in different circumstances. Pros and cons must be considered by each of us individually, with an eye for the good of the community.
Advocating against vaccination becomes something less than a personal choice when it’s taken up as a sign of solidarity with a religious or political group, though, every bit as much as a vaccination mandate would be.
I know nothing of the religious or political leanings of the young mother I spoke with, but we met on common ground. Not as lockstep believers, but as mothers concerned for our families.
That type of common ground is what I find most bewitching about my little jaunts to Roaring River.
Everyone I meet there is at peace. I am, too. There’s something in the air that brings out the best in people, perhaps because most of them are on vacation. The river offers a reprieve, a place where we’re all enjoying a common benefit without thought of the divisions which plague us in the “real world.”
Or, wait. Which of these worlds, really, is real? Maybe Roaring River offers glimpses, on a small scale, of life as it’s meant to be lived. Maybe conversations like the one I had with the young mother do, too.
Maybe we’re missing something.
Maybe I’m missing something.
