By Eileen Flood O’Connor
I took my daughter to vote with me on Election Day. She was thrilled that a woman on the other side of the table offered her an Oreo and a sticker and told everyone she saw in town: “I voted,” proudly pointing to the red, white, and blue tag on her sweatshirt.
Erin, who has autism, is unabashedly patriotic.
Unlike the grim-faced constituents we encountered, she was full of joy. Many might surmise she had no understanding of the weight or repercussions of the day, but I believe there’s more to her positive outlook than I, or most, give her credit for. Erin inhabits a happy place in which she focuses on happy things.
I’ve never really bought into the notion that “ignorance is bliss.” While Erin, who for the record, did not cast a ballot, cannot comprehend the sociopolitical issues at hand, she understands what it is to be serious, sad, worried, and afraid. While she experiences the full spectrum of human emotions, she makes a concerted effort to focus on things and people, moments and memories that make her smile.
En route to our polling station we counted the days until Thanksgiving, still mulling the enchantment of Halloween. Erin, dressed as Woody from “Toy Story,” had marveled at Muppets, pirates, and princesses, all the while holding fast to her wingman Rex (a big-hearted friend encased in an inflatable green dinosaur costume).
I realize we can’t all inhabit this charmed space, but we can choose where to focus our gaze and our energy. A friend, who was disappointed in the election results, told me she has stopped reading the headlines. A cousin who is on the “winning” team, said she’s taking a break from social media. It seems Erin’s not the only one who is avoiding the negative.
Two days before Election Day I saw an entire city do just that. As one of 55,000 runners in this year’s New York marathon, I watched people put the world on hold and funnel energy in a positive direction.
On Marathon Sunday, spectators didn’t ask what religion runners observed or what region they came from, who they were backing, or what they believed before they high-fived, fist pumped, and screamed: “Keep going, you’ve got this.”
As if everyone knew what the coming days might bring, this year felt different. The bands played louder, the signs appeared bigger, and the billboards were bolder and funnier than ever. From Bed-Stuy to Spanish Harlem, Williamsburg to 125th Street spectators, eight-deep, assured runners from across the globe — “You can do this — you’re almost home.”
I know there are significant issues to contend with and serious problems to address. I know people believe strongly in their way of doing things — but more than that, I believe we are intrinsically wired to come together, to help each other, and like Erin, to find the good.
Life can’t always be put on hold for people to throw street parties and push themselves to be some better version of themselves. We can’t always distract ourselves from reality, but the reality is we can choose the lens through which we see.
As we gather to give thanks in the days ahead, it might not be the worst idea to follow Erin’s lead: To appreciate small gestures of kindness, to recall and anticipate time with those we love, and however arduous the course may feel, to strive to be happy and accept the unexpected gift of an Oreo.