It seems that lately, every morning I wake up, look at the headlines, (silly me!) and hear Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On playing in my head.
Fifty-plus years later, and somehow, we’re still asking the same damn question.
Back then, the song was about war, poverty, division, injustice, and people pleading for compassion. It wasn’t just a protest song. It was a desperate request for us to remember our humanity.
And yet here we are.
Every day seems to bring another reason to shake my head. More anger. More shouting. Less listening. More cruelty disguised as strength. More people choosing sides instead of choosing solutions or EACH OTHER!
Fifty plus years later, Marvin…
We’re still asking, “What’s Going On?”
Only now, I think he’d add…
“Seriously…what the hell happened while I was gone?”
I have reached the age where every morning feels like I’m opening the world’s daily progress report, only to discover we’ve been held back another grade.
The hardest part isn’t that the world has problems. It always has. I have lived long enough to know that no decade was perfect. We’ve stumbled, argued, protested, and made mistakes before. But it also felt like, little by little, we were bending in the right direction. Now, some days it feels like we’re driving in reverse. I want to be optimistic. I really do. I don’t want to become one of those people who spends every day convinced the sky is falling. But I also don’t want to pretend everything is fine when it clearly is anything BUT!
I know every generation thinks the world is falling apart. Our parents did. (“Our” parents went through some S%@T ya’ll!) Their parents did.
But this feels…different.
We’ve somehow managed to make outrage our national pastime. Everyone is offended. Everyone is furious. Everyone is absolutely certain they’re right.
Nobody listens. Everybody posts.
We’ve replaced conversations with comment sections. We don’t solve problems anymore. We just hashtag them.
I remember when it actually felt like, despite all our flaws, (And there were many!) we were inching forward.
Opportunities expanded. More women found themselves in positions of leadership. Women were breaking barriers, taking seats at decision-making tables, and dammit, I’m just going to say it….often bringing a little common sense and compassion into the room. More voices were finally being heard. Progress wasn’t fast, but at least it felt possible.
Nothing demonstrated more hope for me than when Barack was elected. That was progress! Whether you like him, love him, or hate him, (No idea how that is even possible!) the fact that he was elected was progress.
A time, less than a decade ago, when people actually considered how decisions affected other human beings. What a quaint little concept. Now I wake up wondering who decided empathy was a character flaw.
And since I’m already ranting…
Can someone explain New Jersey to me? And before anyone says, “Stay out of politics,” let me just say this…
As a New Jersey resident, I’m also wondering what exactly is going on with our taxes. Every time I turn around, something costs more. If you’re a senior citizen trying to age in peace, it can feel like the math just keeps getting harder.
I’ve lived here long enough to know that if breathing could be taxed, we’d receive a quarterly bill for that too! Every year I’m told my taxes are high because of all the wonderful services I’m receiving. I’d like to meet these services. Maybe we could have lunch. What do potholes like to eat other than car axles?
As for our senior citizens…why does it feel like every budget meeting starts with someone saying, “How can we make retirement just a little more exciting?” Nothing spices up your golden years quite like wondering if you’ll need a second job to afford to get to the first one.
But I digress.
See? This is exactly how it happens.
I start out talking about Marvin Gaye, and five minutes later I’m yelling about the state budget.
Here’s the thing… I don’t want to become that person who spends every day yelling, “The world’s going to hell in a handbasket!” Mostly because I don’t even know where people still buy handbaskets. I want to stay hopeful. I want to believe kindness isn’t extinct. I want to believe compassion will eventually trend again. I want to believe common sense is just on vacation and will be returning shortly.
Maybe that’s why Marvin Gaye’s song still resonates.
Because it doesn’t leave us with easy answers.
It simply asks us to care.
To love. To listen. To see each other as human beings before we see each other as opponents.
Maybe that’s the part we’ve forgotten.
So tomorrow morning, when I inevitably wake up and mutter, “What’s going on?” I’ll try to remember that asking the question is only the beginning.
The harder question is…
What are we going to do about it?
I’d love to believe that compassion can still make a comeback. I hope I’m not the only one. I’ll keep hoping that somewhere out there enough people are asking the same question.
And maybe a few of them are working on the answer.
Until then…
I’ll be over here paying my property taxes and humming to Marvin Gaye. (Yes, I do hum GO!)