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Peace Prize Victory for We

One of the shining moments in Obama's campaign from 2008 was the "Yes We Can" mantra that rang out across America. It was a powerful reminder of the founding principles rooted in our democracy, the idea that we live as "We The People." I think this is an important icon to meditate on after hearing news that President Obama is awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.

The United States lost a great deal of respect by the world community during the past eight years. This is, I believe, due to the rampant cowboy behavior we wore on our sleeve when stepping out into the world. For eight years, the values of the old frontier--boot straps, bibles and bourbon--where thrown down on the table; bBootstraps because we lived by a "We don't need anyone to help us" mentality, bibles because we saw the world with certitutde as if we were gods, and bourbon because we drank ourself blind with greed and profit. 

When I say "we," I'm talking about the nation, a living organism of 300 million people wrapped into one package that is placed out in front of us every time our leaders lead us abroad. Of course, many around the world knew that the views of a few in charge were not those of the masses. However, as any fan of old west films will tell you, cowboys are exciting to watch, but miserable in the responsibility department.

What's great about Obama is that he returned us to a focus on community, that there is more than just me in this big world. He reminded us that we can't do it alone, that he wouldn't be where he is without the labors of those before him, the same way that non of us find progress without the help of others. Someone did, after all, labor to make those bootstraps.

As the world recognizes Obama for his efforts for peace, we need to remind ourselves that community is key toward progress and peace. Our most tolerant communities are those who accept all people, regardless of their views or background. Listening goes a long way, which is why we should continue to listen to the changes he continues to call for in furthering peace and progress both at home and overseas. 

Opportunity on Ice

 There's been a lot of conversation lately over what Wall Street needs to finally fix the economy.  Some say a good paddling, those most outraged with federal money paying AIG bonuses, while others feel that reinvestment in assets is the only way to jump start its engine and finally pull the world out of the mudd.  What Wall Street needs isn't so much a massive flow of cash, but a deepening understanding in their interconnectedness with communities all around the country.  This became quite clear to me the other night during the second period of the New York Rangers game. 

This past weekend, my wife and I stopped into a favorite Irish pub of ours, known for having the best burgers around The Garden.  The place is nothing fancy, more Irish by its staff and patronage than on its walls.  We love the place not just for the burgers, but, by Irish pub standards, its quite clean, lots of big screens and always easy to find a big booth once the Rangers take the ice.

after the first drop of the puck, we became curiously interested with three folks who had walked into the pub, looking clearly overdressed for Molly's usual clientele.  They took the booth next to ours and waited, not so patiently, to be served.  The trio, talking well above the first period lull on the big flat screens, enquired from the waitress what was the house red.  It took her a few minutes before recalling a Long Island wine, the name rolling more eloquently off her tongue than in the eyes of the group, who seemed displeased.  They negotiated through several more options until settling on a final decision and then picked up in conversation.  

Two of the three were a couple, with the other gentleman in graduate school, visiting the city during spring break and somehow connecting with the couple who he barely knew.

As their talking persisted, you could clearly hear the best dressed in the group share his resume, a hedge-fund analyst who had just moved to another company after his last group had closed its doors.  The prior company had dealt heavily with mortgage backed securities, one of those many cards that had fallen when the house came down.  

As he described to the graduate student, who was studying finance and statistics, what his daily routine was, it seemed that he was now in a much safer environment.  Though he lingered with nostalgia on his previous job, clearly bored by his new line of safer practice.

My poor knowledge of such blue chip ventures drew my attention more toward my vinegar and chips that had just arrived.  Yet, I was greatly impressed at the degree by which the relatively young analyst was boasting about his involvement with the mortgage crisis.  It was almost as though he was bragging, the way that a young WWII pilot might have bragged about being part of the blitz over Dresden while he was still young and cowboyish in his ways.

The conversation opened my eyes to the realization that there were those in Wall Street who still couldn't see beyond their own mirrors.  The opportunity that had been stolen from millions of Americans was a small smudge on the glass as they looked at their own prospects for financial opportunity.

How people stay fixated on their own self interest and completely ignore the needs of the community around them isn't just a problem with Wall Street.  Self interest has driven much more in American culture than just finances.  Nevertheless, it's clear these past few months that Wall Street doesn't just effect the real estate industry in Long Island.  And, therefore, it needs to learn more about placing value on communities, the same way it places value on secure investments.   

Even Milton Friedman, one of the leading minds behind the Chicago School of business theory, asserted in his book Capitalism and Freedom, that the free market had to respect social responsibility.  When markets ignore our communities, we deprive them of the opportunity that free markets are suppose to create.  It's more like every man for himself in the Old West, calling back to the cowboyish tone of the man sitting next to us at the pub.

The reality is that there are still those who wouldn't notice stolen opportunity if it pained itself shamrock green, jumped up onto a piano and started singing, "Look at me, I'm opportunity..."  Rather, they stay fixed on their own desire for wealth, regardless of how it's acquired.  If we're wanting to prevent such neglect from happening again, we'll have to make sure that community values are rolled out onto investors portfolios.  The government has moved in this direction as it works to rebuild America, recognizing the importance in health and energy as a way to make america stronger for the future who will cash in on our investments.  business should take this lead, looking to the marble libraries and institutions that display the names of past industrialists who recognized the need to give back to the community. 

The Great change

The sound of change still lingers amidst the towering skyscrapers along Michigan Ave. and Adams Street.  And as the wind blows words around like confetti, lifting them up with every gust coming in off the Great Lake, tired and weary travelers stir from only a few hours sleep and breathe in the air of change.  And as President Elect Barack Obama wakes with his family, and ponders the task set before him, one thing stands clear on this day after Election Day 2008--that is: America reclaimed it's vision of Opportunity.    

The words were clear in his speech before hundreds of thousands of supporters standing on the soft weathered grass of Grant Park, and before a nation who watched on the television.  And for the late night cab drivers who drove around with their radios on, many of whom tired and weary travelers to a new land called America, the dreams of my own great grand parents came to life, exploding in high definition color.

Both candidates ran on a platform of change.  And there was no question that the end of the past eight years would bring about change.  It was written in the stars that shine bright over Lake Michigan.  And with the change in our hearts, like the change in our pockets, we purchased--as a nation--the debt that opportunity had been waged under for the past eight years; debt of individual greed over community values, debt of frozen liberties and fractured health equity, the debt of despair amongst New American families torn apart by a government who would rather see their dreams of hope and opportunity destroyed, rather then find real solutions to help immigrants come to America in search of opportunity.

The great CHange has begun.  And although it will take time to reach up and take the fruit from its branches, the labor of the harvest has shown its face by the millions.  And in saying, "Yes we can," we have returned America from a nation of "Me The People," to a nation of "we the People." 

Five more to go

It's easy for me to lose track of my roots after living in the North for the past nine years. It reminds me of a Jimmy Buffet song that a friend had posted up on their Facebook page the other day, quoting from "Changes in Latitudes," and makes me think of a saying my mother use to tell me when I was younger, "You can take a boy out of the South, but you can't take the South out of the boy."

Of course, I'd like to think that's referring to the finer values that I gained growing upoutside of Atlanta and spending my summers in the swamps of South Georgia, where the sight of seeing Gators wasn't anything special.

I keep falling back to those values this evening after having dinner saddled up to the hotel bar here where I'm staying in Denver. the bar was more locals than hotel guests, and was a spitting image of "Joe Six Pack," an expression that I hear many coining when trying to find ways to speak to the common man. country music played loudly from the juke box, with modern day cowboys (real cowboys) danced to songs about working the late night shift, how every hour is 5 o'clock somewhere, and how one of these days they're gonna get out of that small town, while others sang about how their small town is all they're ever gonna need.

In New York, the conversation at bars seems to evolve around probing others on what they do for a living. Where as here, work was the last thing anyone wanted to talk about. They'd rather sing along to songs of hope and opportunity, of greener grass on the other side of the mesa.

It's easy for people to look down at the rural South. I, myself, have fallen victim of it on occasion, thinking back to the more sobering moments of my childhood when I was confronted by the ignorance and hate that tried to stoke the lingering ambers of a South that was divided along racial and ethnic lines. But I've seen that divide now in places far from the South. What I've also seen in the South is community, something I try to write fondly of here in this blog, and something that kept washing over me tonight while listening to country catch-phrases.

In New York, it's easy to feel like you're left out, like you're all alone in a city of nine million. You don't feel that in Ft. Mudge, GA, or Top Sail, NC. Of course, sometimes people like to know a litle more about you than you wish to share. But you have to take the good and the bad with community. Take Plains, GA, where Jimmy Carter grew up. It's a small town in Southwest Georgia, probably as many people in it that live on my block in Manhattan. It's a town where service is branded on the bright yellow vests of Lions members who stand out in the hot summer sun collecting money to send blind children to camp. It's a town where Wednesday nights get pretty quiet except in the churches. And, it's a town that shows up in full force whenever there's a birth, marriage, or death, probably the three most important moments where we're reminded that we can't do everything on our own. New parents need help learning how to care for a newborn. Newlyweds need help learning how to step out into the world as one. And, at times when death comes knocking, families need the help of those around them as much as those who have passed need helpbeing laid to rest. Even after death, we're faced with the one simple fact that we can't do it alone.

You see that in small towns so much easier than big cities, where we put on our tough faces and try to show the world that we can make it all on our own. It seems that where you do find real community in big cities is in neighborhoods where the rural rules of life have somehow anchored themselves beneath the concrete and iron. The services attached to our local Catholic parish, in a heavily Dominican neighborhood, is filled with people who knew small villages in the Tropics long before they knew 207th Street. And outside the harmonic walls of Riverside church are families coming together who remember the stories of their grandmother talking about how her hands would bleed pickin' cotton under the hot Alabama sun that would make your eyes burn with sweat.

Despite the prods and jabs that are made at me after people learn of my southern roots--some in jest, some as real jabs--I'm drawn to the realness that is found in rural America, particularly in the South. Even though I was a New Yorker who worked for a liberal think tank, the fact that I was willing to sit next beside them and enjoy a beer while they talked about anything but work showed me a welcomeness that I hadn't experienced in some time. For a few minutes, I became Joe Six Pack. The only difference was that I had five more to go.,

Thousands of stories

seven years of Journalism school (undergrad and graduate), and not once was I required to take an ethics class. It wasn't until I ran off to do the monk thing that I engaged myself with ethics and philosophical pursuits. And, thinking back to Fr. Sebastian's introduction to ethics, I'm still trying to practice the virtue of not exploding spontaneously after Couric's feature on immigration.

Having worked behind the scenes in broadcast news, it's interesting how little of the editorial decisions that producers make ever transcend into the audiences perception. Their decisions are subtle, the kind of things that most people don't even notice. But don't be mistaken, the stories and interviews chosen go through a hard lens several times before they hit the airwaves. For every interview you see, there's probably ten other that got deleted on the desk top during the editing and news gathering stage.

Harping the point at the end of the previous post, it's a shame that producers and managing editors ignore true heart felt stories. Thank goodness for groups like the Movement Vision Lab, striving to make sure that the stories of real humanity are told; not stories of hard-lined rhetoric, but stories that can move us toward a stronger, more solid community that affords opportunity for all.

Check out their recent pos that tells the story of one New American striving to make our country and world a better place.

Couric Crosses the Line

Katie Couric, CBS Evening News anchor and managing editor, has begun a series on immigration issues, taking a hard anti-immigrant slant. The Evening News feature, titled: Illegal immigrant births at your expense, looks at undocumented immigrant mothers who give birth in the U.S., thus making their new born children American citizens.

The feature offered no counter balance on why women would choose to have their children born in the United States, if they have a choice at all. It's interesting that the reporter offered little expert advice, asking questions that create a bias view against immigrants to interviewees who have very little ethos in giving any real authoritative answer. Too, the logic behind the Texas congressman, who is looking to abolish the 14th Amendment, frightens me. It makes the U.S. sound almost authoritarian on who can and can't be a U.S. citizen. We might as well take down the Statue of Liberty and sell its guts for scrap metal.

It's sad that Couric now seems to be fighting for Lou Dobbs' audience. CBS has historically saught older viewers. But I thought part of her placement was to bring in a younger audience during a time when the major networks were all going through nightly news turnover. I had such great hopes for Couric during the weeks leading up to her first CBS show. But now, I feel as though she's crossed a line of journalistic integrity, leaning toward the editorial likings of conservative hard liners, than representing a voice for liberty and equality.

From a values standing, the broadcast media remains a messaging machine that rides over the "Peoples airwaves. Unlike print media, which covers such a wide range of editorial messages, there should be an obligation for broadcast journalism to uphold the community values of our country. In couric's case, the goal is, obviously, intended to divide middle-of-the-road Americans against the millions of immigrants who come here looking for a beter life.

It will be interesting to see how the rest of this series plays out. This feature was edited to make it seem like women came here for the soul purpose of giving birth to their children on U.S. soil. It didn't dare to dive deeper into the hardships that billions--not millions, but billions--face each day, and focus on the dangerous journey for opportunity that only a small percentage of these billions of humans risk taking. The chances are good that children born in many countries outside the U.s. have a greater chance of dying.

Feel free to visit CBS Evening News and post comments letting Couric know that she should tell the rest of the story.

Forty years later...

(CROSS-POSTED WITH THE OPPORTUNITY AGENDA'S STATE OF OPPORTUNITY BLOG)

One of the greatest values in a great leader is her or his dedication to serve others. Forty years following the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., our country is obsessed in the raise for our next executive leader who will serve as President.

Dr. King preached once that the greatest leader was the one who was a servant. But what was truly great was that each and every one of us can be a servant, bringing about greatness in our own way.

Building a community that fosters opportunity for all can come when we all realize our potential to become a great leader. We might not have the strobed flashes of a photographers camera bearing down on us; nor might we have the motorcades and state dinners. But we do have each other. And when we serve one another, we see first-hand how a community that focuses on others, rather than the individual, can make the dreams that King dreamed come true.

Recently, The Tavis smiley Show on PRI focused on the current state of poverty in the United States, part of which included Alan Jenkins, Executive Director for The Opportunity agenda (see post from March 31, 2008). The program, "Below the Line," comes forty years after Dr. King's Poor Peoples Campaign, one of his greatest dreams of civil disobedience that was not realized until shortly after his death. Smiley's series offers a solid look into the issues faced by poor Americans, particularly people of color.

Listening to smiley's series, in conjunction with the many King speeches that are available for free on line, is a good source for motivation on how we can all better serve our community. It's going to take more than an executive decision from the White House to end poverty in this country. So, in addition to asking our next president how we can solve these problems, we should also ask ourselves how "we" can solve these problems. Thus, on this forty-year anniversary of Dr. King's death, what can you do--even on the smallest level--to bring about opportunity for all?

Keeping the Faith

Since the monotheistic beliefs associated with Abraham (Judaism, Christianity and Islam) began to move beyond the fertile lands around the Jordan River, the moral values tied to communities began to weave its way into the fabric of faith and spirituality. Houses of worship have long been community centers; the ancient Greek word describing church, itself, simply referring to a gathering place (Ekklesia).

In modern times, religious leaders have often been the strongest proponents for community values. Liberation Theology, a powerful Christian theology which puts a particular emphasis on the community, has integrated a social will for the common good in many faiths around the world. Rev. James Cone, the founder of Black Liberation Theology, said recently that the focus was not on the individual, but on the larger faith community. In a recent fresh Air broadcast from Monday, March 31, Dr. Cone spelled out the theology as being more than a characteristic of its members, but an obligation, a need for justice to be enacted.

Cone, who was greatly influenced by Dr. King Jr., offers one view of how faith and community are closely tied together. this tethering between believers and beliefs moves such values as redemption and, security and equality into the mainstream by its active practice in Western society. The roles that churches and other houses of worship play are important in American culture, as they can enable a great number of Americans and move them ultimately to action on social issues. We've seen this during election years when ministers call on their congregations to take certain factors, such as abortion or marriage, to their hearts when entering the poles. In many ways, these pastoral pleas isolate communities, rather than bring them together. And it is a shame that the media focuses on these leaders as examples on how faith influences the community.

Obama's recent speech on race, given in Philadelphia last month, opened many doors for religious leaders to focus their efforts on rhetoric that doesn't destroy, but brings communities together. After being pushed to respond on the bitter language of his own pastor, he reminded us of the value faith plays in modern America, and how redemption and forgiveness are crucial, seeing his own pastor as someone who says things he disagrees with, yet still sees him as a holy man and can, thus, move beyond the few sound bites and be touched on a deeper level by his pastors humanity.

Redemption is a major theme in Christian spirituality, which is why I find it so hard to understand why so many religious leaders are built to condemn those with whom they disagree. In order for communities to come together, there's going to have to be a common ground where disagreements are put to the side. And in our own broken humanity, we're going to have to learn to forgive one another whenever we fall.

Take a minute to think about some time when someone has offended you, or when someone has hurt you in an emotional or physical way. Can you forgive them? Have you forgiven them?

Now, try to think of the one thing you couldn't think you could forgive. What would have to happen in order for you to forgive them? Is there anything you can't forgive?

Now, think of the times when we, as a community, have had to forgive someone around us or a public leader. Is it easier to forgive as a group or an individual?

Communities are not just dependent on redemption. They also can be powerful avenues for forgiveness, forces that exercise justice and afford us the chance to afford others the opportunity for forgiveness.

What inherent parts of our own society foster redemption, and what parts stand in the way of it?

Just a few thoughts as we move further into a political season that seems fueled by statements that many tag as unforgivable.

Where lines cross

The northern portion of Manhattan Island is a unique part of New York City. Where most maps end at 125th Street, Harlem, there remains a whole 99 blocks of walk-up tenements and six story apartment buildings as far as the eye can see. And in this sea of densely populated forest of concrete and brick, streets begin to lose that unique New York numbered grid that most people think of when traveling to Manhattan. Lines on maps intersect. And at their cross-roads, neighborhoods are fused together by diverse ethnicity and race.

Inwood, to the furthest north on the island, has the lingering aftertaste of an old Irish neighborhood, now almost completely Dominican, while on its eastern edge are the Dyckman Homes, a public housing project where basketball great Karim Abdul Jabar started playing hoops.

To the south of Inwood is Washington Heights, one of New York's historic Jewish neighborhoods, while home of Mother Francis Cabrini's remains, a popular Italian American Catholic saint, and also the neighborhood where Malcolm X was assassinated.

These neighborhoods are a classic example of both the achievements and the obstacles that have lined the pathway of American opportunity. I was reminded of this yesterday evening while waiting in line at a pharmacy near my apartment in Inwood. Ahead of me, a customer and employee began to get into a fight over incorrect change on an item that was returned. The tension between the two women was heightened when both exchanged disparaging remarks to one another. One person was an immigrant who had difficulty speaking english, while the other person was African American. Their insults rang throughout the store as the customer stormed out with her bag firmly clutched in her hand. And I stood next in line, shaken by the anger between the two.

The lines between racial and ethnic divide are far greater than the lines on the maps that have tried to historically identify them. Eduardo Porter, March 31 New York Times, raised several powerful observations on the difficulties faced when trying to overcome racial and ethnic divides in the United States. Porter stresses the need to find common values to overcome a reluctance that people, in general, have toward overcoming racial preference. Porters angle focused on the abandonment of community support when encountered with diversity. This is ironic, he notes, since we are all essentially immigrants in this country; some choosing to leave the security of their homes to follow their dreams, while others having their dreams destroyed, forced here not by choice but by chains. Yet, in both of these two powerful narratives, the story of American opportunity became the catalyst for families to labor in hopes of greater freedom for their children.

When lines clash, rather than intersect, the road map of our future becomes tangled in our own stubborn humanity, an unhealthy pride that fuels our ignorance and drowns our hope in opportunity for all. It's this unhealthy pride, focusing only on the "me" that keeps us from reaching "We The People."

It's going to take a community to erase the racial and ethnic lines that divide our neighborhoods. Even in neighborhoods that are diverse, there are still lines drawn. And it's not until communities can come together that opportunity for all can fully be realized. Those neighborhoods that have been able to bridge their diversity have crossed these divides. These neighborhoods, like those surrounding downtown Brooklyn or Jackson Heights queens, demonstrate the harmony that can sound out when communities come together. And it is in that harmony where great change can come about; change that can leave us not feeling like we're stuck in line with noplace to go.

Is Georgia going back to the future?

Growing up in Atlanta, I always felt removed from the southern rhetoric that was fed to most southern children, about standing firm on states rights and being proud that you were a southerner. Run across other kids from towns like Portal or Valdasta, and tell them that you were from Atlanta, and they'd look you square in the eye and call you a Yankee.

I always thought this strange, since Atlantans saw themselves as the capitol for the New south. Though I'm struggling with even telling people I grew up in Atlanta, the home of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. I say this after reading an article from the Tifton Gazette.

Apparently, March has been Confederate memorial month in Atlanta, and on March 5th, Ga. Gov. Sonny Perdue gave a proclamation honoring a former slave, Billy Yope, who apparently served for the Confederate Army during the Civil War.

As a child, I remember there still being Confederate Memorial Day, usually sometime during the end of April. I remember it was a holiday for state workers. The last time I can remember the state having it was when I went off to middle school, grade six (I'm sure it continued afterwards, but wasn't something I found interesting). That was the year that all Georgia students had to take a Georgia History class. The class was clearly bias toward a pro confederate stance, the textbook focusing more on the issue of state's rights, while glossing over the fact that slavery was a major factor, if not the factor, for a war that almost divided and destroyed our democracy.

After reading the article, I felt like I had been dragged back in time to the sixth grade, and forced to sit through the pro-confederate propaganda. Honestly, I'm greatly concerned that there is still a movement--to see the Civil War as not a war to end slavery, but a states rights arguement--that is strong enough to have the governor make a proclamation praising a slave for serving in the Confederate Army during confederate Memorial month.

I hope the historians don't let this one slip through the cracks. Those of us born in the South who were raised to see the horror in the past need to do what we can to stop such racist rhetoric that tries to hide in sheeps clothing.

I seldom use my blog as a vehicle to vent my hostility towards such injustice. But there's a lot more at risk here than having to endure the standard routine of redneck jokes when people learn I'm from the south. I'm going to have to google Jimmy Carter now, to see if he had any comments that could calm my anxiety after reading about Gov. Perdue.

Family Matters

On my way down to D.C. today, I stopped off in Columbia, MD to have dinner with my father-in-law. The day was race, race race, racing almost as fast as Lisa (my Seeing Eye Dog) tries to get ahead of the crowds on the busy streets back home in New York. So, it was nice to stop off before heading into another big city and slow down for good food, and equally good conversation.

Meeting with him helped take my mind off my usual recollections on this day, marking the fourteenth aniversary of my father's death in Mexico City. I just got married this past November, and I'm new to the whole father-in-law thing, but there was something real nice and comfortable about sitting around and talking about grown-up things (politics, the housing collapse, music, etc), while at the same time still catching a bit of useful fatherly advice as the conversation turned from one point to another. It's been a long time since I've sat down and taken in fatherly advice. And it felt good, like returning back to childhood trips that hallmarked the reality that the world beyond your neighborhood was a much larger space than you had imagined.

What's been going through my head most of the night--in-between cramming for an immigration meeting tomorrow--is that community starts with the family. It's not simply where we first learn to react to something, or someone, beyond our own childish ego. It's more than being the foundation that forms our identity, who we see when we're all alone looking in the mirror, or listening to our voice echo in a room as we laugh and think to ourselves, "wow, that sounded just like my father's laugh." But, even more so, family is where the seeds for community values are planted, where we are formed into social beings who either have a desire, or lack there of, to foster ideals that reach beyond our own ego. sure, there is always the occasional seed that blows around in the wind and plants itself later on in life, like when someone volunteers for a group that ultimately changes their life view. But the heart of our fertile soil lies within the close knit circle of those who will sacrifice anything for your success, those who labored to help you take that first step, learn to tie your shoes, pick up after you so you could finish your homework in time for bed.

The family is one of the most fundamental cornerstones in a successful community. And the values a family shares ultimately dictate the destiny of future generations.

So, if we want to begin to measure community values in today's society, we need to first start by looking at families around us, our own families and those who welcome us into their own circle.

Patterson speaks opportunity and community values

Newly sworn governor of New York, David Patterson, gave a strong message of hope and opportunity in his first speech as the Chief executive for New York state. The speech, which can be downloaded on the WNYC web site, comes after the whirlwind demise and subsequent resignation of former Gov. Elliot Spitzer.

In Patterson's opening remarks, he praised the community values of his home district in Harlem. He closed by cheering the cause for opportunity to all in the state that he has now been entrusted to lead.

Patterson is the first African American Governor of New York, and the forth in U.S. history. He is also the first blind governor in the United states.

Needless to say, he is a solid listener, and I'm optimistic of the work he'll do, with the New York State legislature, who has been stalled in controversy since shortly after Spitzer's inauguration.

He hallmarked the need for community support among state leaders by having them join him in the state assembly and renew their oath of office. The symbolism reminds me of the Easter Vigil, when christians renew their baptism. It's a fitting seen for the many Christians throughout New York during this week that leads up to Easter. A large percentage of conservative New Yorkers make up this demographic. So, it will be interesting to see how Patterson succeeds in reaching across the isle once his administration gears up following Passover and Easter break.