A simple lesson

The harvest.

It was a chilly morning in New York one day this week, and a truly integrated cluster of homeless persons slept on a grate as it noisily vented warm air from Penn Station below. Rolled in roiling, tangled blankets, black and white and brown limbs intermingled, seeking warmth from the roaring vertical wind. Passersby rush on, each busily on a mission, with disapproving glances. 

Later, lunching at a well-known chain restaurant across the river in Hoboken, a small, hunched man with a wild white beard and simple knit hat and rumpled, soiled clothing, eats standing up. Looking like a creature from “The Hobbit,” he performs quick, obsessive, ritualistic manipulation of his food and drink, finally eviscerating the sandwich and devouring the filling. He is closely watched but outwardly ignored by other diners, cautiously watchful nearby. 

It is a matter of great, learned, debate, whether God exists, and if so, which one.

But it matters not. These people, the least among us, are equally imbued with human rights. Whether God-given or inherited from the Universe, these are fully human creatures, not less than any of us.

At the other end of the privilege spectrum are the highly educated, the trained, the cultured, the deep thinkers. And they care, deeply. And know that they can improve the lives of us all, if only we’d listen, and obey.

These are they who prescribe, command, compel. The new Ten Commandments. Thou shalt not live on the street. Thou shall not consume large sugary drinks. Thou shalt wear seat belts, and not smoke, and a thousand other things. 

Because they are educated and enlightened. Because the are concerned. And because they think themselves our betters.

But they are not.

This country was a grand experiment, splintered from the regencies and monarchies and religious shackles of mother Europe. It was founded on the principle that "all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness." Sound familiar?

So let us consider one early example of the power of individual freedom. It resonates yet today, though greatly muted.

In November of 1620, a group of Separatists left England on the Mayflower seeking religious freedom and economic opportunity. The first several years were extremely difficult, near famine, with poor crop yields and perilous scarcity.  Nathaniel Philbrick, author of “Mayflower,” takes up the tale:

“The fall of 1623 marked the end of Plymouth’s debilitating food shortages. For the last two planting seasons, the Pilgrims had grown crops communally – the approach first used at Jamestown and other English settlements. But as the disastrous harvest of the previous fall had shown, something drastic needed to be done.”

“In April, [William] Bradford had decided that each household should be assigned its own plot to cultivate, with the understanding that each family kept whatever it grew. The change in attitude was stunning. Families were now willing to work much harder than they had ever worked before. In previous years, the men had tended the fields while the women tended the children at home. ‘The women now went willingly into the field,’ Bradford wrote, ‘and took their little ones with them to set the corn.’ The Pilgrims had stumbled on the power of capitalism. Although the fortunes of the colony still teetered precariously in the years ahead, the inhabitants never again starved.”

A mystery. Or perhaps not – simply human nature. When treated as free persons, owners of their own labor and the fruits thereof, the Pilgrims prospered. And as they prospered individually, so did the colony.

A small, hoary example, perhaps, but timeless.

The lesson is simple. Our "betters" are so only in their imaginations and inflated egos. Let each choose their own path. Offer your advice if you must, but restrain the impulse to impose. As an equal, you do not have that right.