Are we a bridge or a sandbar?
03/16/2009 06:08 ПП | ArticlesA couple of weeks ago, I watched a Georgia Public Television special commemorating Paul Simon’s Gershwin Prize for Popular Song from the Library of Congress. It was a great show recorded back in 2007 at the Warner Theatre in Washington, D.C.
Simon teamed with Stevie Wonder, Ladysmith Black Mambazo, Yolanda Adams, Marc Anthony, Dixie Hummingbirds, James Taylor, Buckwheat Zydeco and others.
But there was one guest artist that brought back a flood of memories. Art Garfunkel, Simon’s original partner — you remember him, don’t you, he of frizzy hair and strange name? — walked on stage.
If you’re a child of the 1960s, I’m sure you remember “The Sounds of Silence” from the 1967 film, “The Graduate.” However, if there was a ballad that exemplified the ’60s it was from their last album: “Bridge Over Troubled Water.”
Simon and Garfunkel broke up over creative differences, and though they have long ago buried the guitar picks, it was good to see them on stage together again, singing their signature song.
“When you’re weary, feeling small
When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all
I’m on your side
When times get rough
And friends just can’t be found
Like a bridge over troubled water I will lay me down.”
Almost every day I see people who need a bridge. The Rescue Mission, Mulberry Methodist’s Food Bank, Campus Clubs and all the other agencies trying to be that bridge are overwhelmed. The people I see are children, young mothers, lost teenagers, at-their-wits’-end adults. You look into their eyes and see they need a bridge.
“When you’re down and out
When you’re on the street
When evening falls so hard I will comfort you
I’ll take your part
When darkness comes
And pain is all around
Like a bridge over troubled water I will lay me down.”
A question flashes through my mind when I see these broken people, broken for any number of reasons, many broken by their own bad decisions: Who will take their part? Who will be their bridge? Who is on their side? Who will dry their eyes?
As a society, while we think there are plenty of bridges out there, and there are for certain needs, there are few bridges addressing the emotional toll the troubled waters take on those seeking a bridge.
It’s easy to cast these people off. They are easy to ignore when we pass them on the street. We snidely take comfort that we have risen above their circumstances, while not knowing what their circumstances are. We lump them in the good-for-nothing category and drive on.
In our daily conversations we take such people to task. We grumble about our tax money going to support the good-for-nothings of the country. We label and curse them. We almost sneer when they approach us for a handout. We wonder why Little Johnny is angry all the time and can’t get his lessons. We attribute his problems to all sorts of issues when in fact he’s just looking for a bridge.
Teachers are bridge builders. However, they get raked over the coals, too, because many of us don’t understand that all of what they are doing can’t be measured by a test. Most of us don’t have a clue what a good teacher has to do — at any school, public or private — to stay sane. And the truth be known, we don’t want clues. We just want to blithely go about our business.
The clues would have us think we should be bridge builders, too, that we should be able to contribute more than our meager property taxes to the process. That we, God forbid, would give of our time to lay ourselves down to help another human; that we could be that bridge over troubled water.
Charles E. Richardson is the Telegraph’s editorial page editor. He can be reached at 478-744-4342 or e-mail at: crichardson@macon.com.