“Good fences make good neighbors” — or do they? Sometimes we forget that the first inhabitants of this spectacular country moved freely and lived efficiently with no fences. Our European invaders “territorial-ized” the land and set the precedent of fences as markers for people and property.
We accept fences for protection, privacy, security. Fences are constructed of pickets, poles, vinyl, metal, barbed wire. For in-town seclusion, I have a fence. It’s camouflaged with a green screen of trees, bushes and flowers to surround a haven for birds, bees and butterflies It contains natural air fresheners, aesthetic calm and my dogs — although, as a “childless cat lady,” I can attest that the cats consider fences an annoyance. Fences are always two-faced; either “stay in” or “keep out.”
Our “hood” years of baby, child, teen were a learning slalom through the stanchions of experience, guidance, growth. Parents set age-appropriate boundaries and expectations. We earned extensions through education and behavior as we cleared the obstacles toward maturation. We started with the narcissistic, me-centric years and ended with an awareness of a bigger world and our place in it. From baby steps to bicycles, we increased mobility and confidence.
Curiosity kept us moving through discoveries. With books, music, friends and imagination, we parlayed play into productivity. My sister and I were range-ridin’ cowgirls on our trusty sawhorses. On rainy days, we used a grassy knoll under an umbrella pine to be pirates marooned on an island. Before it was a national pastime, I introduced the neighbor kids to “turd ball” in my horse pasture that bordered a remote community. Gauging the laughter, the stick-and-“pucky” game was a major league hit. We loved our flights of fantasy but understood that constant make-believe stories were not a substitute for truth. Our parents and teachers enforced the Golden Rule: the reciprocity of civility and kindness. There were brief allowances for kid fibs but we quickly learned that lies weren’t worth the disappointment of mentors. We were taught the consequential difference between right and wrong — sweet and sour, good and bad, truth and lies. We were developing a framework of values.
The progression of movable perimeters prepared most of us for adulthood. Perhaps the presence of a defining fence makes sense. But what about the negative trend of psychological fences to separate us from our neighbors? Media “postings,” tight wire lies, barbed insults and ideologic legislative strands are used to corral and brand immigrants, citizens of “color,” citizens of LGBQT, librarians, liberated women and doctors as undesirable. Those fences imperil our neighbors yearning to be free of incendiary bias. Those fences interfere with our liberties of personal decisions, voting privilege and compromise our democracy. Fundamentally, we don’t want to be fenced in with lies or fenced out from freedoms. Why do we validate the liars, cheaters and bullies who construct alienating barriers? We have become a nation of fence-sitters, faking neutrality because we fear retribution if we act or speak. We betray the goodness of our kindred Americans and the shared dignity of human rights. We dilute the pledge of unity. Who could have predicted the silence and cowardice of Americans?
This is the year we reclaim our national narrative. A revival of smiles and joy reminds us that we accomplish more with encouragement and optimism than oppressive gloom — that we feel better in the sunshine than under a glowering cloud, that our days are easier with the grace of truth and cooperation. Real greatness is not grumpy. We want a future of beauty and purpose in our neighborhoods. To be a good neighbor, we need to remove some fences.
Dumas, of Grangeville, is an independent outdoorswoman.