Boots on the Ground

3.5-minute read

On a recent drive to the North Carolina coast, to spend time at the beach with my family, I stopped in Chapel Hill to visit a cousin and cousin-in-law, John and Cathy, whom I had not seen in nearly two decades. Later, on my way back to West Virginia, I stopped in Raleigh to see my high school friend Tom, with whom I reconnected at a reunion last year. I did not expect to be so inspired and moved by these visits.

John and Cathy, and Tom and his wife, Kim, are retired and live in attractive, newly built, over-55 communities. Each community features an array of airy, one-floor homes on quiet streets, with small but immaculate lawns that are tended by homeowners’ associations. 

Both couples have small gardens and small, private backyards with a view of woods. They live more simply these days: fewer square feet, fewer possessions, no stairs, no mowing. Thus, they have more time to devote to the things that give their lives meaning and purpose— important things that now grow more important by the day.

During the school year, Cathy tutors children of Spanish-speaking immigrants who live nearby in a small, close-knit community. Many of the children are cousins, and many of their parents work in restaurants.

While I was there, Cathy chaperoned a field trip to an art museum for the kids, all elementary school students, and I tagged along. The kids were bright, funny, inquisitive, and bilingual, a skill I wish I shared.

At the museum, they learned the difference between art and artifacts, and Realism and Impressionism. They were engaged, respectful, and cooperative, even when the presentations were a bit beyond their years. Afterwards, volunteers provided a lunch of pizza and fresh fruit. One student gave Cathy a rainbow she’d made of cardboard and colorful pompoms, and a card that said, “I love you.”

When we returned home, John, a teacher and author, who for years shared his love of history and writing in free, community classes, eagerly awaited Cathy’s stories about the day.

My friend Tom had many stories to tell as well. He and Kim volunteer at a food pantry several times a week. In fact, Tom manages the pantry. He picks up donated food in his truck, works with other volunteers to load bags of groceries, and oversees the pantry budget.

Sadly, with increases in food costs and decreases in donations, the pantry has had to limit clients’ visits from monthly to bimonthly.  To survive, the facility relies heavily on proceeds from its sister thrift shop.

“We do the best we can with what we have,” Tom says.

Driving back to West Virginia, I wondered. Will the sweet kids I met on the field trip experience worry, fear, or trauma due to the new federal law that puts big money into immigrant detainment and deportation?  How much more hardship will Tom’s clients, and many others across the country, including many West Virginians, experience, due to the same legislation, which diminishes funding for food stamps and Medicaid, in favor of tax breaks for the rich?

I have come to believe that in these troubling times, it is important to live with our boots on the ground, like my North Carolina cousins and friends. We must choose where to focus our compassion and time, and then give what we can. Each of us doing our part will help stem the hurt and, ultimately, heal the whole.