What a privilege
to be just that
By James Knudsen
My January 2017 column announced that a “New sobriquet [was] acomin’.” The 3-year delay serves as further proof that when it comes to procrastination, I perform at an Olympic level.
I started putting ideas for a new sobriquet down on paper yesterday – brainstorming, if you will – trying to tease out the threads that make up James Knudsen, in the hope of finding those that remain through all the trials and tribulations....
But the trials and tribulations train quickly ground to a stop. Even with me housebound, under a shelter-in-place order, any trial, any tribulation I experience is decidedly First-world. I recently heard a college student recount making ramen in the dorm, “with just a microwave and a Pyrex measuring cup, because that’s all I had.” He made it sound like he’d been at Khe Sanh.
Back to my threads. I remain progressive, liberal, left-leaning – the labels are numerous and depressingly weighted down with meanings assigned by others. The same may be said for conservative, Republican, right-wing. So, we’re just as bad? Or just as good? Just the same. More similar than we like to admit.
Loneliest Liberal. It may be that that soubriquet was misguided from the start. It may be that there are far more like me out there than I realized. And a comment posted on my December column, “Old years end, new years begin,” pointed out that I must now be far less lonely, after that column’s recounting the whirlwind five weeks that culminated in my getting marriage. The modifier Loneliest became all the more out of place, leaving only Liberal.
Liberal about what, exactly? It seems the window has been getting narrower every year, month, day, tweet. The talk of purity brings to mind the purists of the French Revolution. I see in my mind one of the leaders of the movement, alone in an empty room, finally with no one to send to the guillotine save himself. I think I’ll drop the remaining label as well, but keep the values and aspirations of what defines liberal democracy.
What I’m left with is the word citizen. And in this moment of uncertainty, it seems the noblest of labels. I wish no more than to be a citizen of my city, state, nation, and planet. Civil to loved ones, friends, and strangers. To fill my days with equal parts tears and laughter, longing and contentment, abundance and space. One of billions, husband to one, grateful for every moment I receive.
Writing this has been one of those occasions where I had no idea where I was going. In the end, it was a puddle of tears as I pondered being just a citizen, and what a privilege it is to be just that.
Please refer to me henceforth as Acting Citizen.
| Copyright © 2020 by James Knudsen |
AHHH, lovely mr k.
ReplyDeleteMe too, what scprice says. Reminds we of how an opera singer or orchestra conductor signals by tapping his or her chest before or after their bow “I love you; I feel your love.”
ReplyDeleteWell said, Acting Citizen Knudsen, hear, hear!
ReplyDelete