Hope in the Heartland
I had the privilege of traveling to my hometown of Omaha last week to speak at a conference Aging with Passion and Purpose: No One Left Behindhosted biennially by UNO’s Department of Gerontology. The invitation alone inspired me — how impressive that they featured the topics of older adults who are often marginalized for a variety of reasons — folks who are LGBT, immigrant and/or are people with disabilities or mental illness. So I boarded a plane home with hope and curiosity — only to have my expectations exceeded, again and again, by the same kind of solid, steady, purpose-driven people that raised me in the Midwest.
Sitting at the sunny kitchen table catching up with my Mom, she suggested we go that afternoon to a vigil at the local mosque. (The horrific massacre at two mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand had taken 50 lives just two days before.) Far from my current home of Washington DC that fancies itself the center of most everything, here I was in Omaha at the innovative Tri-Faith Initiativecommunity that intentionally is home to a church, a synagogue and a mosque together building interfaith relationship, understanding and solidarity. For Mom this is about a real person she knows: Dr. Mohiuddin is President of the American Muslim Institute and a co-founder of Tri-Faith yes, but most importantly in our family, was my dad’s cardiologist for years. “Such a good man” Mom and Dad always added to any mention of his name — there is nothing like personal relationship and connection to bridge divides.
An overflow crowd of Nebraskans showed up to hear an incredibly diverse group of speakers — Muslim, Christian, Jewish, Black, White Latinx, women and men — united in their denouncements of hate of all kinds; racism, antisemitism and Islamaphobia — under the big prairie sky — everyone called to action. Tears streamed for the tragic loss of life, for the fear for so many people at risk — tears streamed as well for the beauty of people coming together, pledging love, pledging courageous action.
The next day was an inspiring line up at the Aging with Passion and Purpose conference on the University of Nebraska Omaha campus — over 150 professionals and advocates from a range of organizations and disciplines all coming to learn about the full diversity of older adults in their care, and the tools to ensure inclusivity in service delivery. I learned about a long history of Ageism and a compelling case for the Human Rights of older adults affecting a rapidly growing millions around the globe. I heard compelling stories about challenges to meet the needs of older adults with mental health diagnoses, intellectual and developmental disabilities and cultural/language barriers– for each of these communities often overlooked, inspiring leaders in Omaha are stepping up to ensure that there is “No One Left Behind”.
My piece was to share the challenges for LGBT older adults. The news is stark; LGBT older adults suffer significant health disparitiesand experience real discrimination when they seek care. Imagine, keeping your true self a secret from your doctor, nurse or CNA because you are fearful of being out. Imagine, your loved one sick, vulnerable and in need of you — and being denied access to their bedside. The other good news is that change is happening because of the nurse who has a lesbian sister, the hospital administrator who has a transgender child, the doctor who just sees the humanity of his gay patient- good people transformed by personal connection and relationship. The other good news is there are incredible resources and real progress in systems change with HRC’s Health Equality Indexand and expert technical assistance from SAGE (Services and Advocacy for GLBT Elders) like Inclusive Services for LGBT Older Adults. The slow steady work of engaging leadership, putting policies and procedures in place, providing staff the training they need and deserve — all over the country, institutions are taking this on and making real progress. It is a story of incredible hope and optimism for me having grown up in the Midwest years ago, fearful of sharing my own difference, that these days in red states and in blue, amajority of Americans embrace equalityno matter who you are or who you love. It is powerful to be able to come home and see and feel how much has changed and how many good people are stretching across difference to see the humanity in each other.
The floodwaters are still swirling in Nebraska — the single most devastating natural disaster in Nebraska’s history. More than a billion dollars in damage includes homes, businesses, crops, cattle, infrastructure. At least three people have died in Nebraska and Iowa because of the floods. This disaster deserves our attention, our empathy, our support. This disaster is also an opportunity to be reminded of What Rural America has to Teach Usabout the resiliency, generosity and community one finds in the Midwest.
The flood is not dominating the national news any more than the slow steady progress of building tolerance and inclusive community makes for flashy headlines. But where I come from, it’s not about the flash or attention — it’s about neighbors showing up for each other — whether to load sandbags to stem the flood, welcome the immigrant or LGBT older adult to my senior center or show up at an interfaith vigil to say — we may be different, but I’ve got your back- — hateful violence, whomever it targets, or the quiet suffering of being alone or invisible, diminishes all of us.
My last day in Nebraska we drove across the state to witness the migration of the incredible Sandhill Cranes. For millions of years, these amazing birds have been stopping on the Platte River in Nebraska. They land here to refuel for their long journey. They land here because in their DNA, they recognize the strength and the sustenance here. And they don’t travel alone; they form lasting connections and they stick together, alternating leadership as they fly, crying and calling out to one another along the way.
We will find solutions to the biggest challenges of our time — not by “flying over” the folks in the Heartland, but by landing, touching down, listening. By making connections, one person at a time –whether with your Muslim doctor or your lesbian daughter, we are nourished and renewed for the next leg of our journey. Let’s remember in these times of political strife and daily barrage of bad news, that sometimes it is moments of crisis and tragedy that most help us turn to each other, to rely on our own instincts of goodness, and to see it in each other.
