This is what matters

I'm a politics and news junkie. Like a sponge, I soak it all up. I discuss it, write about it, live it. Even if I wanted to get away from it, it's impossible for any length of time; as a copy editor for a major politics and news website, I can't help but digest this stuff. Not only am I reading about it as I edit, but the television is on all day as I work, so even in the background, there it is -- news and political commentary. In the car, it's talk radio. But every once in a while, I get an opportunity to pull away -- not fully, but a chance to take in less.

I had that chance last week as I traveled to New York to attend my friend's graduation. The 38-year-old wife and mother of four, who also works and is very active in church, received her master's degree. What an accomplishment! As her friends and family, we came together to applaud her as other graduates' loved ones applauded them. Sen. Chuck Schumer addressed the honorees and attendees, but even he left politics out of it. The celebration was a joy -- and a reality check. The reality? This is what matters.

From there, it was on to spend time with my family, all of whom live down in the New York City/Long Island area. I don't get to see them every day, so it's a blessing, even when the trip is short, to sit and talk, to laugh, to have a meal together. This, again, is a reality check. This is what matters.

I had been scheduled to speak at the school district where, 21 years ago, I did my student teaching before embarking on a 17-plus-year teaching career. I was the motivational speaker for two assemblies last Monday -- one for the high school and one for the middle school. I spoke about identity; it was a reminder to these young people -- and perhaps a first-time epiphany for some -- that they have been destined for success and they have a purpose, that this is their identity. We got real about real issues -- about struggles, about pains and hurts. I shared some of my own experiences, so they knew immediately that in asking them to believe they were created for greatness and to never give up, I was not asking of them something that I, too, haven't had to put into practice. In that first assembly in particular, I experienced early what every speaker or teacher has experienced -- that "I've got 'em" moment. It's when you've hooked them, are reeling them in and they're hanging on your every word. They're relating. No more pretenses. It's at this point that they can truly receive from you. Yes, this is what matters.

Many high school students, no doubt, already identify with one political philosophy or another. High schoolers are quite opinionated. Some of those leanings develop from parents, and others from students' own observations of the world. None of that came up as I addressed them about life's challenges, about who they were created to be, about believing for the best, about using specific keys to unlock their true identity.

When that assembly ended, several students approached me. One hugged me as if she knew me. In fact, I wondered at first if she did know me from the school across the river where I had taught, as students sometimes move from one district to the other. No, we did not know each other. She held on for a while, then said of my presentation, "I needed that. I've been going through a really hard time lately." A young man told me I should get involved in a particular program he named -- a suicide prevention program. Others thanked me, telling me I made a difference.

Moments like these, I wonder why I spend hours upon hours soaking in politics -- much of it showmanship and chicanery and insults. I'm not saying politics isn't important. Of course, it is -- but it has its place. When the goal is to serve people and set policy that truly benefits people, it's not only important; it's beautiful. But when we allow it to be a machine, its purpose to assume and maintain power and be the last one standing, it's not so beautiful, and it certainly isn't what matters most.

There's nothing like time with family and friends, and even some young strangers, to refocus us on what really matters.

Adrienne Ross is an editor, writer, public speaker, online radio show host, former teacher and coach, Southeast Missourian editorial board member, and owner of Adrienne Ross Communications. Reach her at aross@semissourian.com.