You’re likely a fan of freedom.
I am.
In fact, it’s one of my highest values.
Freedom to come and go; freedom to adventure and travel; freedom to work when and where and if we want.
Freedom to choose.
It’s damn good stuff.
But there’s a catch.
“Freedom makes a huge requirement of every human being,” Eleanor Roosevelt once said. “With freedom comes responsibility.”
When you’re free, you’re responsible for a lot, like:
- your health and wellness;
- the care of your loved ones;
- your surroundings;
- those in need; and
- this little blue dot that floats in space that is our only home.
You’re responsible, too, for freedom itself. Because this freedom you enjoy has come at a huge cost, measured in blood.
It is precious and fragile.
One of the things I so loved in law school was the freedom to explore ideas; the invitation to question; the opportunity to debate, and disagree.
Our arguments could be vociferous and long, because seeking for truth and finding common ground can be a messy business.
(But pizza and beer usually followed because we knew that our ground could be common only if we honored our shared humanity.)
It continues to be our shared responsibility to seek this common ground, to protect this gift that is our freedom.
Tirelessly and ardently. With civility and care.
“For the person who is unwilling to grow up, the person who does not want to carry their own weight, this is a frightening prospect,” Roosevelt said.
But you want what I want what we all want which is freedom.
President Ronald Reagan, in his Farewell Address to the Nation, shared his vision of our nation as “the shining city upon a hill.”
“[I]n my mind it is a tall, proud city built on rocks stronger than oceans, windswept, God-blessed, and teeming with people of all kinds living in harmony and peace; a city with free ports that hummed with commerce and creativity. And if there had to be city walls, the walls had doors and the doors were open to anyone with the will and the heart to get here.”
“All great change begins at the dinner table,” Reagan said. “So, tomorrow night in the kitchen I hope the talking begins.”
It’s been two hundred forty-eight years since we declared our freedom.
The work continues.
Let freedom ring.
