Reach out with a helping hand

Where I grew up we embodied the ideal of middle America. I was surrounded by proud veterans, hardworking farmers, mechanics, and shop owners. When one of us hurt, we all chipped in to help out.

Medical or financial distress, it didn't matter. If we saw someone in need, we would reach out and help them back up. That is what it meant to be a member of my community.

This weekend, I saw a man reach out to a stranger he saw knocked down and attempt to help her up. In response, he found himself surrounded, beaten, and shot to death.

This is not the American dream.

In my hometown, we weren’t made up of all upstanding citizens. There were people who did bad things, but they were confronted by the judicial process, not summary execution.

Those who knelt down to help someone up didn’t do it for praise, they did it because it was the right thing to do. They didn’t expect medals or accolades, but they also didn’t fear that they would become punching bags and targets.

The people I grew up around weren’t afraid to exercise their constitutional rights. All you had to do was head to the local diner or stock yard in the predawn mornings to hear old men bicker about politics, the economy, or the local football team. When I was a child, it seemed that all of the world’s problems could be solved after a couple of pots of coffee (full strength and decaf) and before wives started calling around to tell their husbands that lunch was ready.

I saw men who had served together vociferously disagree on everything and then make plans to meet up the next day to start over.

My mom’s barbershop was also a communal gathering space, a place of group therapy. A lot of joy, anger, and tears were shared in those four walls, but all were welcome.

I don’t remember the last time a politician or representative came into town to sit down and listen to the people. There has always been a bit of a disconnect between the people and our elected officials. Unfortunately, social media has taken the place of the barbershop and stock yards.

Politicians respond to those who get the most clicks and likes, even if what they are shouting and posting is only intended to spark outrage.

The majority of us are not Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, or Snapchat influencers. We are still the hard working people who get up every morning and go to our jobs trying to make ends meet. We can still gather in the barbershop and share community. We still want to kneel down to help the downtrodden because that is what communities do.

When we see someone shoved down by the world, our first instinct isn’t to ask what colors they fly or who they voted for. We want to help and we do it without fear of repercussions.

We see the people, not the labels. We see the children who suffer. They are our neighbors, customers, and students. From our earliest days on this earth we created groups and tribes to support each other. Now, it feels like hidden figures want to tear all of that asunder.

Let’s get back to the barbershop. I invite anyone interested in discussion, not debate, to join me. That includes our elected officials, Democrat or Republican. All are welcome.

Reps. Mariannette Miller-Meeks and Ashley Hinson, Sens. Chuck Grassley and Joni Ernst, Gov. Kim Reynolds and President Donald Trump, please feel free to stop by. Share a can of pop and candy bar with us and touch grass. See what it looks like from the ground level instead of from your stately offices.

It seems that we need each other now more than ever. I may be willing to kneel down to offer a helping hand, but I refuse to bow to the oppressive weight of the world and I am not alone.

Schuyler Snakenberg is a secondary social studies teacher with 17 years of experience in rural Iowa schools. He lives in southeast Iowa with his wife and children.