We hear the term grassroots bandied about a lot these days. Seems like every organization wants to be thought of as being "organic" and having the support of the "grassroots." This made me pause to consider: what do we actually mean when we say that Convention of States is a grassroots organization?
As usual, I turn first to Merriam-Webster as a starting point.
grassroots noun
1: the very foundation or source
You must attack the problem at the grassroots.
2: the basic level of society or of an organization,
especially as viewed in relation to higher or more
centralized positions of power
...was losing touch with the party's grassroots.
So grassroots is foundational. The image of a beautifully manicured expanse of lawn comes to mind, with wonderfully green grass on which to play or picnic. Take off your shoes and let your toes revel in the texture of the grass. Breathe in the sweetness of freshly cut lawn. Remember as a kid coming home with grass-stained knees after having had a good time at recess? (Sorry Mom).
That's one aspect of what we mean by grassroots.
But there's another more subtle, easily missed aspect of what we're talking about when we use the plural term "grassroots." Whether it's a lawn, a football or baseball field, or a park area, grass grows together, every single blade making up the whole area. These places would make no sense were they to consist of a single blade of grass, because grass, by its very nature, grows as a collection.
This is the same concept with our grassroots movement here at Convention of States. Each member is like a single blade of grass, operating in concert with other volunteers. This is at the heart of how we at Convention of States work towards our goals. Yes, there is a common motivation that runs through it all, that being the preservation, protection, and restoration of our precious Republic. We all understand that today's federal government has almost nothing to do with what Madison and the other Founding Fathers had in mind. D.C. has gone off the rails, pure and simple. And we know it.
That said, one of the things that I really love about an organization like Convention of States is that each member is allowed to bring their giftings, their personal views, and their unique histories to the table. We are allowed to work together to make a difference as we author the next chapter of what it means to be American. Each of us comes with a story that is vibrant and personal.
Here's an example of what I'm talking about, a story that I'm a bit familiar with.
At the dawn of the 20th century, the sovereignty of the Kingdom of Hawai'i was put in play. President Grover Cleveland had been a friend of Hawai'i's Queen and had been staunchly opposed to the idea of annexing the islands. But as most readers are keenly aware, elections have consequences. The election of William McKinley in 1896 was no exception. Expansionists in the states and annexationists in the islands (among them Lorrin Thurston, Francis Hatch and William Kinney) convinced McKinley that annexation was the way to go. In June of 1897, President McKinley signed a treaty of annexation, which was submitted to the Senate for ratification.
Four men were sent to D.C. to try and dissuade the Senate from moving forward with annexing the nation of Hawai'i. They left the islands on November 20th, arrived in San Francisco on November 28th, and reached Washington, D.C. on December 6th (the very day that the Senate session opened). They joined the Queen, who had arrived in D.C. earlier. By the time the men left to return home on February 27th, they had reduced the vote count in the Senate from 58 to 46. Annexation was averted.
Among the four was a gentleman by the name of David Kalauokalani, my great-great-grandfather.
Efforts to keep the Kingdom of Hawai'i intact were soon dashed during the onset of the Spanish-American war. But that, as they say, is a whole 'nother story.
(A more complete accounting of the events of the period can be found in a paper written by Noenoe Silva entitled The 1897 Petitions Protesting Annexation.)
It would seem that fighting for the survival of my nation runs in my blood. (And no, the irony here is not lost on me. History is not without her twists and turns. Who says God doesn't have a sense of humor?)
That's the story of but a single blade of grass. There are many, many more.
To Liberty!
