After more than a year of watching our society profoundly underperform politically, culturally, and towards each other, many of us are left with an unsettling sense of isolation and despair.  Will we ever again embrace facts, care about each other, and defend our democracy? Or, to borrow from our American lexicon, will we ever win again?  As a country, and in our communities?

Perhaps.  And if we do, it will be because enough of us picked ourselves up, dusted ourselves off, and got to work rebuilding this country.  Because we choose to.

Let me share the stories of three people who have already made that choice.  Without using their last names because I have not asked them for permission to do so.

Stacey, a self-described “housewife,” responded to the pandemic in the early days by joining a group that crafted face masks in their homes.  When we really needed them.  Because there weren’t enough around. She has since graduated to helping others (the only requirement being that they need help) get vaccinated, in a confusing, poorly organized statewide effort most notable for having shifted operational responsibility from itself to individual residents that are too often unable to handle it.

Among the 20 plus ordinary citizens working with Stacey is Jamie, who teaches college students online.  As of March 10, 464 people have been vaccinated by their efforts.  Four hundred sixty-four families with a little less to worry about.  Four hundred sixty-four people whose faith in their community has been strengthened or restored.  No one asked Jamie or Stacey to do this.  No one needed to.

By contrast, I did have to ask my dentist to pitch in.  But only because he was as unaware in the early days of all this of how bad things actually were as I was.  My epiphany was a call from my daughter who works in a hospital in New York City.  There, the hallways were literally filled with the dying, the morgue was literally overflowing with the dead, and the staff – after being told there would be no more PPE in a matter of days – were asked by the hospital administration to reach out to family and friends for donations of equipment.

I was stunned.  And stymied.  The N95 mask that I had bought for a sanding project several years ago was still in the garage.  Filled with dust and dead bugs.  I reached out to others, and some of them were able to provide nonmedical rubber gloves.  It was all anyone I knew really had.  Except for my dentist.

During years of having cavities filled and teeth cleaned, we had never actually met.  I was always treated by someone that he had hired.  When I picked up the phone that April day, introduced myself, and explained the situation, he was in the office because (as many of us know) there are such things as dental emergencies and he did not want to expose any of his staff to patients.  One man, alone in a rather large building, there to meet a need. He gave me a box of surgical masks and two boxes of surgical gloves, apologizing that he could not give any more because there was nowhere to get more supplies.   I drove into the city and handed that PPE to my daughter.

I don’t want to read too much into this.  Or too little.  I can’t speak intelligently about those who still refuse to wear a mask in public, ever believed COVID 19 was a hoax, reject science, or align themselves with Rudy Giuliani.  But I can say that if we beat this thing – and I speak here of more than the virus – it will be because of Jamie, Stacey, my dentist, and the many, many others across this great land who are giving of themselves.  As a matter of individual choice.  Without being asked to do so.

I’m not a big fan of adversity and would prefer to live in much less interesting times.  But I can’t.  None of us can.  So let us acknowledge that sometimes adversity reveals the better angels of our nature.  And celebrate the fact that when it does something very important happens.  In those moments, we win.