VCC Magazine Spring 2019

V irginia C apitol C onnections , S pring 2019 11 Our Commonwealth is richly diverse. Not only are the nations of the world represented among our populace, but the range of wealth and scarcity among us is vast. The natural beauty of rural and exurban areas contrasts with the vitality of the more densely- populated places. Opportunities for formal education, employment and health care differ throughout the Commonwealth. The pace of life and connection to the land feel more accessible to some than to others. That may sound romantic as a description, but it is inadequate to affect common purpose among our citizenry. I know as little about life in Galax as someone in Galax knows about my life in Alexandria. The Winchester apples eaten in Hampton Roads were harvested by workers with a different life than those who catch and truck blue crabs to the Shenandoah. And, of course, newcomers like me—I have lived here only 32 years—do not have the benefit of the long view on voting rights, marriage law, school integration, housing and, most important in this 400th year, the differing accounts of how our ancestors managed to wind up in this part of the world. I keep a small notebook in which I jot down memorable ideas I come across, often in conversation. The first entry in my book is something Senator Tim Kaine said in discussing the legacy of Thomas Jefferson. After noting that Jefferson wrote that “we held these truths to be self-evident,” including the equality of all people, Sen. Kaine observed that the idea was never codified in the Constitution. Jefferson fell short of his own truths, in his public life and as a slaveholder. But Abraham Lincoln spoke of a nation “dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.” Lincoln went about implementing what Jefferson only affirmed. It is what impelled then-Mayor Kaine to accept the gift of a statue of Lincoln that rests in an unlikely place—Richmond, capital of the Confederacy. It is a representation of President Lincoln and his young son Tad on their visit to the city after the Civil War to survey the damage done by the conflict. Father and son are seated on a bench— there is no towering figure, no conqueror. Lincoln came with compassion and to teach his son about the lessons of war. Jefferson and Lincoln each were great in his own context. But in the matter of human equality, Jefferson was a man of ideas. Lincoln was a man of action. There would be no United States without either one. It is more than 150 years since that visit, but the wisdom of reconciliation is more important than ever. It requires those with power and privilege, however possessed of great ideas, to sit down, observe and listen to those who have not benefited from the promise of those great ideas. I shared a small attempt to do just that when I served with Chief Deputy Attorney General Cynthia Hudson as co-chair of the Commission on Diversity, Equity and Inclusion (on which Del. Delores McQuinn was a passionate and inspiring voice), appointed by Gov. McAuliffe after the Charlottesville disaster. Citizens from across the Commonwealth were among the commissioners, chosen from those diverse communities that make up our population. Two things were clear to me as a result of the experience. The first is that there is a lot of work to do, both to lift up the many histories of our 400 years and to make good on the promises of those years to those legacy communities. The second—perhaps more important— is that everybody has a story to tell. And I think that until we are willing to listen to those stories, we will be unable to do that work. It is not enough to designate some people as storytellers and others as listeners. To be sure, people of color and of different orientations have a longer history of not being well-heard. Their presence on the Commission was critical. But there were stories we never had the chance to hear because some people invited were uninterested in the endeavor. That is especially true about those attached to an older narrative, some of whom literally would not let me in the door when I came to invite them. But here is what I know. Emulating Jefferson may inspire us, but it will not get the job done. Public pronouncements about the importance of the unity that emerges from pluralism will make even the most insular citizen nod his or her head, as long as that’s all he or she has to do. Hard as it may be for some Virginians, the example we need to follow is that of Lincoln, seated on a bench, arm around his son, seeking to learn rather than to teach. Reconciliation will not come because laws change or because our new heroes look different than our old ones. Reconciliation will come when your story is as important to me as I desperately want mine to matter to you. Reconciliation happens only when hearts open to those who have held to irreconcilable differences. The very act of listening to each other—especially to those unfamiliar— is the most important vehicle to a civil society that is more than civil. It may very well be that I will not embrace the version of personal or collective history that my neighbor shares with me, but it should not prevent me from embracing my neighbor. I can’t know that until I take my good ideas, sit down and teach my children by example that it is more important to listen than to speak. I add that after the listening comes the action. There are changes necessary in our society that will make reconciliation less urgent than it is today. As Del. McQuinn said, “Virginians should look beyond personal preferences, biases, and egos to join together in a common cause to rebuild and strengthen personal relationships, neighborhoods, and communities.” After sitting down to listen, stand up—and get to work. Rabbi Jack Moline is President of Interfaith Alliance. He is an adjunct faculty member of the Jewish Theological Seminary and Virginia Theological Seminary. Rabbi Moline was appointed Co-chair of the Virginia Commission on Diversity, Equity and Inclusion by Gov. Terry McAuliffe. He has advised and written for many public figures, including President Bill Clinton, composing much of his memorable eulogy for PM Yitzhak Rabin. More important to listen than to speak By Rabbi Jack Moline Reconciliation will come when your story is as important to me as I desperately want mine to matter to you. “ ” B ONNIE A TWOOD, J.D. Tall Poppies Consulting Writing, Governmental Consulting BonAtwood@verizon.net 804-314-7265 V