Skip to main content

A message to the old men

Thank you for your service. Thank you for the countless hours you stole from your family and your own health to walk the campaign trail, attend community suppers, sit through long meetings, glad-hand, deliberate legislation, draft policy, etc.

It is worthy of appreciation and recognition.

But you can sit down now.

Male politicians of 65 plus, you've had your turn. It's time to hang up your running shoes and pick up the coach's towel.

I know you've still got the fire, your ideas still have merit, and maybe you're even better known and well funded than ever, but it's time to pass the baton. If your concern is truly what is best for the community, and not about your personal self-aggrandizement, it's time to step into the background and let someone else take the lead.

It's time for you to lend all the might of your reputation, your fundraising machine, your personal networks, your ways of working the system, your depth of policy knowledge, your inside track to someone else who is just starting out.

There is so much to know and do – more than ever in a world shaped by rapidly changing and instantaneously delivering technology. Nobody needs to start from scratch. We're all so much better off with wise mentors who know how to maintain the necessary training schedule, when to call cheers from the sidelines, when to call for a break, and when to hunker down and fight.

Your wisdom is valuable, but we don't need you at the forefront of the struggle for today and tomorrow.

It's time for you to step aside and make way for someone new, someone who is able to bring a perspective formed outside the halls of power. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

My favourite nativity scene

“There’s no accounting for taste.” That’s my dad’s favourite way of explaining personal tastes that are incomprehensible to him, like living downtown, and riding bike in winter. The inexplicable factors which determine an individual’s likes or dislikes are probably the only way I can explain why my favourite nativity scene contains a horribly caricatured black magus, a random adoring child attired – to my fancy – like a Roma person, an old shepherd carrying some sort of blunderbuss. And a haloed holy family with an 18-month-old baby Jesus. This is the "Christmas Manger Set – the Christmas story in beautiful cut-out scenes and life-like figures." See how the 1940s-era family admires the realistic flourishes, like raw wood beams and straw protruding from the edge of the roofline; the rough, broken wood of the stalls; the tasselled camels; the richly dressed magi; the woolly sheep; the Bethlehemites on the path in the background, ostensibly out to get water, judging...

Upside down economics of Jesus: household action and global change

--Presented at a CAWG event in Altona -- In Living More with Less , Doris Janzen Longacre shares a story about envelopes from Marie Moyer, a missionary in India, who was studying Hindi with Panditji. Marie writes: “From his philosophic mind, which probed the meaning of events and circumstances, I learned more than Hindi.” Just before her teacher’s arrival one day before Christmas, she’d received and opened a pile of Christmas cards and discarded the envelopes as he walked in the room. She writes: “He sat down soberly and studied the situation, then he solemnly scolded me: ‘the reverberation of this wasteful act will be felt around the world’.” Marie was stunned. “What do you mean?” she asked him. “Those envelopes,” he said, pointing to the wastebasket. “You could write on the inside of them.” “Chagrined”, Marie apologized and rescued the envelopes with the help of Panditji, who “caressed each one” as he pulled it out of the garbage. This forever changed Marie’s relationship to p...

Broken people...

After reflecting with one coworker on how often churches in all their forms really mess up and hurt a whole bunch of people in the process -- and how "we gotta do better" -- I stumbled into another conversation with a coworker which highlighted our brokenness, and I suddenly realized what was wrong with my take in the first. I wanted the church to be better at fixing our mistakes, or better yet, at not making them in the first place. But maybe this "fix-it" attitude is partly the reason we keep blowing it again and again! My friend recollected an experience when a church community was in a terrible place: compounded mistakes, hurts, and frustrations had blown up, spewing pain all over all parties. (I'm sure anyone with a long history in the church can think of one, if not several, such occasions in their past.) A new Christian who observed all these goings on responded in an unexpected way. Instead of "you people are a bunch of screw-ups! How could this pos...