Give A Damn. Part Two.

A few years ago I started a blog called 365Things.org. The idea was to take current events and issues, and rather than just write about them — um, in a way I guess like many bloggers, including myself, often do these days — actually find small solutions to those issues, in order to, as I’m fond of saying, “make the world just a little bit better.”

The previous piece here, “Give A Damn. Part One,” a video by GiveADamn.org, featuring Elton John, Judith Light, Cynthia Nixon, and others discussing gay rights and marriage equality, reminded me of the following piece which I wrote a few years ago. I thought, being Good Friday, and given its title was, also, “Give A Damn,” I’d share it with you.

In reading it again, I realize I’m still guilty of some of the things I wrote in the piece. I still don’t listen enough, though I do try harder these days.

In reading the piece again, also, although it was written pre-Tea Party days, the argument does sound like theirs. While anyone who reads this blog or knows me knows how virulently anti-Tea Party I am, there is a valid argument in all of where America is right now: People just want to be heard.

Lastly, you may consider this a plea. Above all the rhetoric, above all the hate, above all the anger, above all else, we’re all “human.” Even dogs.

Give A Damn.

My dog ate through my wall. Seven months old. Cute as hell. I went to the diner for breakfast Saturday morning. An hour and a half later, I came home to a white-nosed black lab. The damage is pretty bad. I know he was just looking for attention. So I blame myself. I promised him I was going to take him for a run a few times a week. Good for both of us, really. I was going to start on Friday, but one thing led to another, and, well, tomorrow’s another day, right?

Well, Saturday was another day. Just not the one I had expected. So we went for a run. Almost twenty blocks, one way, from 44th Street down to 26th Street. We walked back. He’s a better runner than I am. (Do dogs have knees?)

On our way down, we passed that group of protesters chanting about China’s actions in Tibet. They have been protesting for months, in the same spot, on 43rd Street, along the West Side Highway, police on hand, an older Asian man yelling into a bullhorn, which hardly seemed necessary, as they are pretty loud anyway. Honestly, I am sympathetic to them and their cause, truly, but I found the noise, in a language I didn’t understand, irritating after a while. So I tuned them out.

On our walk back, though, they weren’t yelling “Stop China Now. Free Prisoners In Tibet.” They were all turned around, chanting, almost singing, in what felt immediately like a religious or ritualistic way. Text, my dog, and I stopped. I didn’t feel right about not respecting whatever ceremony was taking place.

But here’s the thing. The cops were there. Laughing, slumped over the metal-piping fence. As the ceremony came to a close, just a few minutes later, I looked at the police. Navy uniforms, some with bright yellow polo shirts, stamped “Community Affairs” on the back. So, I thought, these are representatives of New York’s Finest, charged with engaging the community? Simply put: They didn’t care enough. They didn’t give a damn. They weren’t sensitive enough to recognize the difference between a loud, albeit orderly protest, and a symbolic ceremony. To them, it was just another hour on the job. Their arrogance, their lack of respect and lack of interest in hearing the needs of others, was deafening.

I realized, this is how revolutions start. One group feels so passionately about an issue. And their representatives, their government, stands by, arrogant, disinterested, slumped over a fence.

And then I realized I was equally at fault. I hadn’t listened. I hadn’t cared enough. I hadn’t given a damn. And I had to pay the price. The signs had been there. His following me around the apartment. His desperate attempts to play with other dogs on the street. I knew my dog needed more exercise. More attention. More “father-son” time. But I ignored the immediacy of his need. I put our run off until the next day. I made his needs less important than they actually were. So he found another way to communicate his needs. He acted out. And got to eat some tasty sheetrock in the bargain. Sure, he had to face my disapproval when I got home. But in the mean time, he got to enjoy some fun.

So, today’s 365Things.org suggestion? Give A Damn. Listen to the needs of others, however faint they may be said. Look at the people you surround yourself with. Open yourself up. Make a change in how you go about your day. Hear them. Listen to what they’re really saying. Then, respond. Let them know that you give a damn.