Good things never die

I watched two movies today: the end of The Shawshank Redemption and Bridget Jones: the Edge of Reason. In their own way, both movies proclaim the message of hope. One, for the inner dignity of humanity and the other for a girlish dream that one person can, in the words of Jerry Maguire, “complete me.” I feel the need to watch Shawshank every year. Maybe twice, I don’t keep track. I love the movie because it reminds me that there is something universal in humanity, something that is good and keeps us alive. Prison is presented as the worst possible scenario, not simply for the warden and the guards’ brutality, but for the way that the mind fucks with you. The walls that one builds up around one’s self and prevents you from seeing what is there for you and is possible. Oft quoted lines include, “Get busy living or get busy dying” and “Hope is a good thing—maybe the best of things—and good things never die.”

Much has been said about the Fourth of July. Andrew Sullivan's comments were probably the best this year. Fourth of July is often times hilarious due to the excessive amount of red, white, and blue. It’s a time when Americans overlook the tackiness of Walmart in order to buy flags and display them in a post-9/11 era. In many ways, there is a religiousity about this holiday. People, especially columnists, renew their faith in this country by reminding each other what we have done and why we are great.

Disclaimer: Most of my Fourth of July celebrations have taken place in small town America: Centuria, WI; Duluth, MN; Gambier, OH; and Grinnell, IA. Last year was no exception. This year’s fanfare in St. Louis reminded me of the small town dedication to the civic ideal of Americanism—an ideal separate from the power of the dollar. Security checkpoints at the Arch seemed natural to me, another sign that my rose-colored view of life probably isn’t accurate.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and a lot of talking with some friends about our place in this world as individuals. I’m fortunate to have some amazing friends. One is a genius at math. One will touch the lives of his students through his music. Many are in science. Many are in grad school in the humanities. One is entering high school and just learning to drive. One is going to save the world, be it in human rights or international policy. We’ve talked about the merits of teaching and the drawbacks of academia and policy on a macro-scale.

What I love about my friends is the depth of caring that each of them have for their friends and for a wider world. It’s an optimistic and hopeful belief. According to this progressive approach, we, as individuals, can have a positive impact on the world and that moreover, we must do so. [No, I’m not going to take the Catholic or evangelical approach here.] The Fourth of July and a couple Hollywood blockbusters remind me that, while it’s not an entirely American trait, the hope that we can take our country’s future or our own destiny in our own hands holds an intoxicating appeal.