Inspiring a Politics of Personal Responsibility

Two Ospreys at a Time

Photo Credit: Carolyn McPhee

This is a story of ultimate triumph with multiple contributors, but at its center is one man’s willingness to lead, his trust in community to step up and his inspiring faith that if we all do our part, the greater good will prevail.

Dan Woog’s blog, 06880 Where Westport Meets the World, is informative, inspiring and transformational in big and small ways. But this past week, he touched on a microcosm of the cultural fears and hopes bubbling under the surface for many.

At its heart, this story is about what happens when we empower love.

March 26^thDan posted a celebratory photo of an osprey couple returning back to their nest on a platform between Westport stores Fresh Market and Terrain. I look forward to all his nature news, so this made me smile.

Less than a week later came the news that someone had removed the platform and nest. Locals took pictures of the birds circling what used to be their home with twigs in their beaks.  Captions described the unbearable sound of their high-pitched cries. Who was to blame? No one knew yet. What could be done?

Comments poured in.

Saturday morning, I was on my way to the gym, heading down the Post Road when I saw one of these beautiful birds circling with twigs and finally landing tentatively on a nearby electrical post shingle next to where her nest would have been.

I was filled with a dueling sense of outrage that anyone could have issued or executed such orders and crushed by what I imagined was confusion, uncertainty and loss on the birds’ behalf. I had a crushing feeling of hopelessness and then… a rather dramatic feeling of F***That S***.

Maybe there IS something we can do.

I wasn’t even sure who WE was, but I somehow trusted that maybe Dan would. And if he didn’t, he’d have the resources to know who would.

I turned around. I drove into the parking lot and snapped several photos of the birds hoping to fan the fire of public outrage and incite action. I called my husband Joe, who sent the picture along with our offer to start a fund to get it out back up, to DO something.

Dan posted it a couple hours later but with no call to action. I was upset.

I wasn’t looking to add on to the sense of futility.

I was disappointed. I felt hopeless again. I wasn’t concerned with who did what so much as how we could get the birds their nest back. Stop their circling and crying. Blame could come later. Accountability after restoration of home. Peace first, war later.

I love all animals, like most people in this town, and probably most towns. So, my rage and sadness had to do with that. But what felt even more toxic was this pervasive sense of powerless in the face of far-away, big-money decision-makers. Unwavering injustice.

The idea that we cannot even protect what is right in front of us.

The subliminal but very real feeling that the very foundation our democracy is built on could be dismantled.

This story tapped into a wellspring of fear. But it also struck a goldmine of plucky New England can-do spirit. I didn’t understand why Dan wouldn’t have taken us up on our offer to start a fund. Obviously, he cared. I was confused.

Joe assured me there was a LOT of back-chat going on, including the stores Terrain and Fresh Market, who knew nothing and were equally outraged, the Audubon Society, who clearly said laws were broken, CL&P, who had no knowledge, Planning and Zoning, who had fielded a call and not approved any such action. A high school boy who had actually snapped a photo of the event.

And Dan… behind the scenes, calling Regency Management (property owner), asking for a statement, strongly suggesting an act of reparation…before the imminent lynching.

Dan was doing what good leaders do.

He wasn’t reacting. He wasn’t being brash or impulsive.

He was getting to the bottom of it while piling on the pressure for the guilty party to DO something­. THIS is due process. THIS is leadership. And, when the management company finally did apologize and within twenty-four hours put the platform back up, he published that too.

He made it clear that amends had been made.

The management company is not local.Did they really care? Hard to say. Did they do the right thing in the end? Yes. Was Dan responsible for that happening? Yes. Could someone else have done that? I would argue no.

The situation called for public outrage, legal threat and pile-it-on guilt. There needed to be a central hub for that to happen. There needed to be a passionate, level-headed, resourceful connector. There needed to be a sense of righteous demand and then peaceful resolution.

There is a time for fists in the air and a time to shake hands. Dan’s got good timing.

He not only eloquently and lovingly reports the news, he transforms it.

His blog is the very best of example of how digital journalism can be an architect of change, can harness the power of individuals’ desire to help into a communal band of renegade do-gooders. How the worlds of on-line and off-line can, in fact, be fused into one.

He reignites our belief that if we stick together, we can affect change.

His brand of leadership is retro-futuristic.

It is a kind of internet town square, a lead-by-example dynamic of inspiring individual action for the collective good. A unified tour de force. No hidden agendas, disrespectful rhetoric and rash decision-making. Just plain old-fashioned save the osprey via digital barnstorm.

I finished this post several days ago, but something about it didn’t feel complete. It is a tribute to Dan Woog, to be sure, but it is bigger than Dan, bigger than the two osprey (and they are pretty big)– bigger even than the community.

Something about this story feels fundamentally political.

I had a writing mentor when I got my MFA that told one of my cohorts not to disguise her politics. She argued that she was not political. And he said, that is absurd. Everyone is political. Our politics is our set of beliefs.  And everyone has beliefs, even if they don’t believe in having them.

This struck me, because right up until then, I had thought of myself as not very political. Opinionated but not political.

BUT, if our politics is our set of beliefs, which IS one of its definitions, then I most certainly AM political. But here’s where the story got stuck in my throat. Right up until this past week, I believed I had absolutely no room to add anything else on to my plate. Aren’t we are all full up with not an inch to spare.

We are afraid of even watching the news because it is too overwhelming.

So to take on yet one more thing without any guarantee our contribution will make a bit of difference… not a smart investment of time… and yet, what could be a better use of time? This is what a great leader inspires– the belief that everyones contribution matters and will help.

I knew my snapshot would not be the difference, but I also knew, it was my responsibility to make sure everyone else still knew, these birds had not given up. They were still baffled and grief-stricken and we needed to DO something.  My belief shifted from I don’t have time, someone else will take care of it, to if I contribute, maybe we can do it together. And I will feel proud of my choice. And proud of my community. And part of the solution.

It is a powerfully humbling to believe that we DO have the room. And it will make us feel better inside if we allow our personal responsibility to include our collective well-being.