ITALY COMES THROUGH FOR ME AGAIN

Dedicated to Diane, Laura and Eloise

After joining and working with a new organization called Staten Island Action Coalition I have been involved in street protests, highway visibility events and working with like-minded women and men [not many men if I am honest about this] to change the course of events in this country. It is daunting to say the least. You basically understand you are working with a small group compared to our population to make greatly needed changes in our country. We live in a Trump era where disenchanted people either have to do something or need to step back. I am one who feels it is necessary to do something–march, scream, organize, encourage and basically let it be known that I will not accept the status quo.

After working for a few months I felt it necessary to step away for a bit. I flew away and went to Italy for about two weeks. I am writing this on a flight home after about 15 days in Italy.

I usually travel alone or with a group of women friends but I convinced my husband that he should return with me to Italy. There was a Caravaggio exhibit in Rome and I knew he could not say no to that. There is an entirely different story in me about traveling with your husband after you have been traveling alone, but that is for another time.

We spent 6 days in Rome visiting every museum we could and just eating good food and drinking martinis or good wine. This works for getting your mind away from heavy thoughts. Being political at this time is bearing the responsibility of heavy thoughts. It is impossible to forget those thoughts, but being away makes it possible to analyze them in a fashion that helps understand the awesome responsibility you hold and the consequence of no action.

After a week we left Rome and went to a spa in Tuscany. Adler Thermal spa is in a town called Bagno Vignoni where there are volcanic thermal pools that are advertised to heal both body and spirit. There are a few saunas built into the mountainside that are infused with eucalyptus or a variety of other herbs that burn over the coals. You sit naked [bathing suits or wrap around towels not allowed] and look over the hills of Tuscany. It is a magnificent feeling. The volcanic pools are dress events and you wear your bathing suit–it is not a nudity camp. There is also a spa which includes all sorts of massages, facials and bodily treatments meant to heal and revive.

One day while sitting on a lounge chair in the Tuscan sun, I thought about never coming back and doing this [define “this” as nothing] for the rest of my time–after all, I am 77 years old and every once in a while you think about not being here at all.

But really I could think clearly in this place. I thought about the history of Europe, what made it what it is today, what were the effects of two World Wars that engulfed every part of the continent where death and destruction reigned. And I thought of America’s part in those wars–why did we participate, why did we think it was OK to sacrifice lives of young men and women for a far away place. As I did a mental dive into the reasons we joined those wars, I came to the conclusion that I would have to go back to the US if even to assure that we would risk young lives again possibly.

A lot of my friends care deeply about what is going on in the US; but a lot of my friends don’t march. I use the word “march” in the activist sense; it means many things. It means doing the work: some of it simple, contacting your representatives, signing a petition, making a phone call or writing postcards. Some of it harder: organizing people to march, creating events that catch the attention of a few or many, trying to get the media to cover your event, making signs, writing content, being loud, being truthful, being consistent to your beliefs, doing fact checking and being able to convince disbelievers that what you do is righteous. My husband sometimes says to me “don’t be so self-righteous.” I try not to be but I do mean to be righteous. For fighting for democracy is a righteous cause.

I will arrive back in Staten Island after this short but informative respite knowing that I must do this. I must spend time in the streets with women who are as righteous as me and smart and conscious that someone must do this. If there is anything I know, it is that we must do this now and I am also confident we will succeed. America will not lose its democracy to a narcissist bully–at least, not on my watch.