You can’t always be first in the conversation

Opinion editor’s note: Strib Voices publishes a mix of guest commentaries online and in print each day. To contribute, click here.

•••

When you get to be my age, one of the inevitable adjustments you have to abide is the notion that even though you were there first, you may not be highly valued in every group. You may be last. Or you may be invisible. Many young people look at your shoes. If they’re black lace-up Rockports, fugeddaboudit. If you pass the shoe test, their eyes move upward to your outfit (outmoded) and finally your hair (gray). You might be considered feminist because you allow your hair to grow gray, cool because you keep up with certain wardrobe styles, or passé, rigid and uninformed because you don’t.

In any case, you still have value. Hold that thought. You might be one-upped by people younger than or different from you because he/she/they believe(s) in the latest “truth.” Observe that this person may have false eyelashes, tattooed eyebrows and colored hair with graying roots.

On a recent day I saw a neighbor. She, as always, was friendly. We crossed the street to chat.

Our witty exchange about her children took a turn. “I don’t know your politics,” she began. I reassured her that she was on safe ground with me and that I shared her enormous worries about whatever is to become of our world if the contender for president beats our vice president. It’s a moral issue for me, a battle between good and evil.

Along strolled another neighbor. Instead of saying, “Oh, excuse me, am I interrupting? May I join you? It’s so nice to see you both,” she planted her feet between us and inserted herself between one of my words and the next, interrupting with, “You know what I’m gonna do if ____ wins? I’m gonna move.”

The two women launched full tilt into their exit strategies, which included employing their various international connections in order to leave our intolerable country. I, as more of a humorous aside, quietly asserted that I would hold down the fort while they rode off in the sunset.

It was close to Halloween. Ghosts hung from tree limbs and skeletons climbed grimly out of grass and over tombstones. In effect, I, too, could appear grey and obsolete.

The two women continued their chatter about teenagers, and I took a few steps backward. They backed away from our small circle after one stated she had more pressing obligations. I returned toward home, looking over my shoulder as I strode away. It was a fakeout. They returned to their talk, obviously something well beyond my ken.

I gave up being Me First when I left school. I must settle for Me Last when it comes to certain conversations. I cannot nor do I wish to compete in Me First behavior. I’ve observed variations on this kind of posturing many times in my life. Stakes are high now. We need to take our equal place among our neighbors, our friends, our fellow Americans, all of humanity. We need to listen attentively and with respect to everyone, even those we wish to dismiss due to age, political party, education, religion and ethnicity.

The words that come to mind are: Hope is mandatory. I’m doing what I can to stem the tide of negative guessing about the election, negative conversation about the polls and negative thinking. I will be a poll challenger, working to ensuring that every eligible voter is able to cast their vote safely, securely and without interference and will have their vote counted. I’m glad to be still standing. It’s what I can do.

Carolyn Light Bell lives in Minneapolis.