Note from the Editor: Westport | A War of Words

My phone whined as I walked Main Street this morning. Outlook. Gmail. Facebook. iMessage. New York Times. iMessage. Outlook. New York Times. Facebook. SMS. Messenger. Raindrops hit my cheek. Outlook. Gmail. Facebook. iMessage. SMS. Outlook. SnapChat. Messenger. Another drop exploded on my jacket’s hood with the shallow pop echoing in my ear.

I took out my Airpod. I pulled off my hood. I kept walking. Water streaked down my nose. My phone screamed for my attention. Another drop shocked the warm nape of my now-exposed neck. The notifications kept coming. The rain kept falling. I kept walking.

The emails, the calls, texts, social media posts - the emails. The news alerts. The words. So many words. Images, posters - so many posters. Rain. So much rain. Our garden. Our neighbors. Our homes. Our Westport. Our World. Our community. A war.

Raindrops, emails, texts, Facebook posts, news updates all wailing for attention. Bawling for help.

Help. What can we do to help?

Our community needs us right now. We need to reset. We need to step back. We need to regroup.

We need to continue to be a we. Not us. Not them.

We need to be kinder.

I’m watching as anger, hatred, fear, frustration, sadness, and anxiety erodes our own community as swells of emotion lap Westport’s shores; as words shoot out of our mouths and phones and explode on impact for those within their crosshairs.

I walked Imperial Avenue and I listened to an interview of someone who lives in Israel. I looked ahead at the Ruth Steinkraus Cohen Bridge, with the Levitt Pavilion in my foreground, with his shaky voice in my ear. His story pulled me away from the politics of Westport. My mind raced.

What does a bomb even sound like? What would it look like? What would I do? What could I do? I’ve avoided these thoughts - I’ve enjoyed the comfort of the “Westport Bubble.”

Another raindrop exploded on my jacket. I shivered. I walked faster. I listened to the man talking in my ear about his family and neighborhood that were both destroyed. His phone connection cut in and out as I followed each of his words before the interview cut off completely.

I’m watching as we are fighting each other in Westport with emails and social media. We’re fighting our neighbors, fellow PTA parents, sports team coaches, carpool families, high school buddies, volunteer leaders, friends.

I’m watching as our foundation of kindness, respect, civility are eroded into the deep waters of local politics.

In a time when videos of bombings are published to social media, posters of missing people are taped to walls and fences, and progeny are deleted faster than any email sent - I want us to rise up and be there for one another. It’s the least we can do. It’s what we need to do.

We need to step back and reset. We need to stop eroding our own shores and weaponizing our own words. We need to stop finding reasons to hate a neighbor and we need to start finding perspective - especially as we stand together against hate - and use that same yearning for peace abroad to foster peace at home. In your home. In my home. In our neighbors’ homes.

We need to stop sabotaging ourselves by looking for our local leaders to fall before they’ve even stood up.

Should they fall: help them up. They are us. We are them. This is our community.

Stand your ground if you feel wronged or disagree with a decision - speak your piece - but keep the peace. If a bomb fell tomorrow; if Westport changed overnight: what was the last thing you said to your neighbor? What was the last email you sent? What would your legacy be?

It’s time to reset, to step back and see what’s happening around us. It’s also time to step forward and stand tall - shoulder to shoulder - alongside your neighbors, both here and abroad.

We are blessed with safety and comfort here at home while others will never feel those blessings again, yet still the onslaught of words continues from our own shores.

If we have the ability to stop the attacks hitting Westport: why wouldn’t we?

Bombs and raindrops. Notifications and sirens. Emails and guns.

With so much happening in our world - with so many things calling for our attention - we must stand together here at home. We cannot let words be the weapon that tears our community apart while other communities are literally torn apart. We cannot let words be the reason why members of our community stop raising their hands to lead, stop caring for their own neighbors, stop being a part of this community. Words. So many words.

We must appreciate our blessings and be the example of peace that we fight for - that we want the next generation of Westporters to remember and to continue. We need to choose our words wisely.

Step back. Reset. Stand together. Fight for peace in a war of words.

Kindness. Empathy. Grace. Civility. Conversation.

Pick your weapon.

In partnership,

Jaime B.

PS:

I’ve been noticeably absent these past several months. JC has been keeping things moving along as I quietly work in the background on my dayjob and other adventures and goals. Last February, an event made me take a pause and take stock of my life and how I spent my days. Some days I was reading upwards of 30 press releases, 25 arrest reports, dozens of obituaries, and trying to publish all of it while remaining neutral. I was reading over one hundred emails a day. I was inundated with news and the “happenings” of our community. I stepped back and realized I needed a break - there were other things I wanted to strengthen and work on, and so I did. For some time, I nearly completely blocked off all news except for some NPR in the morning. I was able to reset and find my way.

I felt I needed to write the above letter as I have never seen such anger amongst our community as I have these past few weeks, and I’ve never seen such anger amongst our community while another community actively fights a war. My opinion is just that: an opinion. I give it with no authority. I can only hope it might bring peace to those who read it just as it did to me as I wrote down my thoughts on the current state of affairs in Westport.

Take stock of your own life. Find the joy in walking in the rain, in getting stuck in traffic, in sitting in a town meeting without the sound of air raid sirens drowning out the argument at-hand.

Thanks for sticking with us. I’ll be back soon.