Today over half of 167 countries with a population of more than 500,000 are considered to have some form of democracy. One fundamental concept underlying democracy is the “consent of the governed.” Every country with some form of democratic government exercises this principle – though in varying degrees. Nowhere else that I know, however, articulates this ideal as poignantly as the prevailing doctrine on which the United States was founded.
The “consent of the governed” implies a social compact – an agreement between the governing and the governed. It is an affirmation of the scope of each other’s responsibilities: individual duties versus the government’s obligations and bounds. Executed faithfully, the “consent of the governed” doctrine serves We The People directly. By “We The People” I mean not just anybody but specifically those actively engaged Americans who believe in their rights, duties, and abilities to govern themselves. The widely accepted cultural norm of self-governance in America is the bedrock of American democracy as I see it.
Grassroots activism is closely tied to the culture of self-governance. The basic premise that supports the founding principles of the United States is “small government.” Given a finite number of responsibilities to be fulfilled, it is better for society to assign them to entities that are as close as possible to the people – and in some cases, directly to the people themselves. At a basic level, we as citizens vote and occasionally call or send letters to our representatives.
When problems at hand have become significantly large enough to draw attention, we form a critical mass to address them. That is when grassroots activism takes hold and provides the forum for the concerned citizens to come together. Grassroots activism is what gives a voice to We The People – even, or especially, in times such as today when the government is more and more encroaching on the domain of citizen responsibility. Grassroots activism provides mechanisms for redressing our grievances.
Self-governance and the resulting grassroots activism rely on the independent-minded, action-oriented people that comprise the American citizenry. Americans, as a group, have a high propensity to “organize.” If there is a problem deemed to require a collective focus, one can always count on someone to stand up, pull others together, and get the ball rolling towards a solution – often at an impressive speed. Such a high-energy drive is a part of American cultural DNA. It is a reflection of the deep heritage that goes far back in history to the Mayflower Compact and even further back to the Magna Carta. Yet, I often wonder how well people of America today recognize and value their uniqueness.
I’m dismayed at times to see increasing ignorance and complacency in the general public; the young Americans who hold their own nation in disdain. These disengaged citizens have failed to recognize this special endowment that is automatically granted to those who are born-Americans.
Sometimes it takes an outsider’s observations to spark new insight. About ten years ago, I had an opportunity to sit in on a presentation given by a visiting scholar from Brazil at a conference. The theme of the conference was pedagogy at primary and secondary levels. His talk was about an international educators’ conference that he had hosted at his university back home. This is what he told us:
“The participants were grouped into three delegations: North America, Europe, and South America. Each had been tasked to develop and present a proposal for ways to make classroom teaching effective. The first team to present was the North American delegation, led primarily by American educators (including at least one from my university). They got up, went straight to the blackboard, and immediately started writing down their action plans while explaining their rationale point-by-point. The next to go was the European delegation led by French educators. They were very focused on theory and based every argument on published models, principles, and philosophies. Last but certainly not least were the South Americans. Led by Brazilian educators, they proceeded to put on cheery music and display colorful visual aids, while talking and swaying to the bright tunes in the background. It was absolutely a mind-blowing experience to see such stark differences along cultural lines in solving the same problem.”
It turned out that he was originally from a French-speaking area of Belgium and had emigrated to Brazil in his adult years. Because I spent my childhood years in Brussels and had gone to a public school there, I was able to engage him in a brief conversation after the presentation to exchange insights. Looking back on this experience, it occurs to me to wonder how much of his keen perceptions were triggered by his being a cultural “third party” to all of the delegations. He was certainly not an American. He was no longer fully European nor was he completely Latin American both by virtue of his immigration.
Perhaps a contribution that I can make is to articulate the special gift with which disengaged citizens of America don’t know they are endowed. As a non-native American citizen, I am able to see America through multiple lenses. Maybe by providing a “disengaged” view of America, from a “distant observer’s perspective,” I can hope to instill a sense of appreciation and recognition for what it means to be American by and from birth. Knowing how blessed they are may be the first step toward (re-)engagement. That is my grassroots activism.
This article was submitted by Rachel Itabashi-Campbell from Michigan.
