Going Green
Idealistic,
"destiny" manifests itself;
in hot pursuit
of ever-greener on the other side:
- comfortable,
- consumable,
- "green,"
suburbia.
Never a thought
to the other side.
* * * * *
There were a pair of ducks on my lawn when I came home recently, resting in the cool evening grass. Up from the river, no doubt disturbed by the summer bridge construction; now relaxing here in my lawn. "My" lawn. Mowed twice a week. A tidy bit of green among neatly organized rows of bits of green.
I tried to convince the ducks to stay as I made my way to the door. They waddled a few cautious feet opposite my motion in a sort of "trust dance." I let myself in slowly and stand still at the screen door, smiling. "You can stay," I say, awkwardly offering unnecessary permission. We all settle.
It is, for a while, our lawn.
All that to say, I've caught myself participating in something I'm not a big fan of lately. It's more of an idea than an activity, but it plays out all over the place. It's popularly titled "entitlement." I think it runs a bit deeper, or at least, longer.
In American history, there is this seemingly illimitable force moving people, typically west. People of European descent had this sense that they had the right to the entirety of the North American continent, pushing through (and down) wilderness, native peoples, anything in the way of what came to be known as "Manifest Destiny."
This entitlement is a deep-seeded cultural value. Particularly as it pertains to land; and even though America's a good-sized chunk of land these days, we're still pushing. I live in Chicagoland, so in a real way our spreading is still moving west (we've got that big lake in the way to the east); pressing out via our suburbs. We have the right to have our comfortable house with its bit of green in a nice area. And we are still pushing whatever it takes out of the way. It's not an easy mindset to change. I'm starting small, I guess.
With ducks.
