September 12
Today my blog pays tribute to two giants.
First, to President Gordon B. Hinckley of the LDS Church, who today was named municipal citizen of the century by the Utah League of Cities and Towns. (Full story here.)
I can only add my endorsement. It was at President Hinckley's urging that I first stepped out of my Mormon comfort zone, and this makes him great in my book. I was living in New York, trying to decide whether to join the PTA, when I first heard him calling me to greater service. The PTA met on Monday nights, a meeting time that will make any active Mormon think twice. It was around this time that President Hinckley said, in an address to BYU students, that we "must not abdicate our influence for good in the world." I read his remarks only later, via the Internet, but felt as though his words had been directed to me.
My family moved Family Home Evenings to Sunday nights, I joined the PTA, and thus began the first of many practical lessons in public service.
How many, many times since then have I wanted to abdicate, but have been restrained by that call.
Today's second giant is my mother. Today is her birthday, and I am taking the occasion to ponder her influence on my entry into local politics.
My mother was six months along with me when the family relocated to Seattle. She tells about months spent looking for the right house. It wasn't the house that concerned her so much as the location. She and my dad held out for a long time, living in a motel, and I can only imagine how much fun this was for them with my two active older brothers.
But my mother's patience was richly rewarded. The community she chose was magnificent. I grew up a free-range child. I had my pick of parks and playgrounds. I took long, wild bike rides. I threw rocks in the lakes; I picked berries in the woods. Every month we went to the library; every day she listened as I told of the worlds I was exploring, whether on my bike or in a book.
There were performances of every kind: lectures and demonstrations at the library, recitals of local artists, and concerts by the community orchestras. We took occasional trips into Seattle proper for the ballet or the opera. And there was always music in the house. If the music wasn't live -- my mother and brothers are concert pianists -- then it came from an endless supply of classical music LPs borrowed from the library.
When I decided to be a stay-at-home mother, it was because I wanted to provide the same kind of childhood for my own children that my mother provided for me. And when I decided to run for office, it was because I wanted my children to have the same blessings of community that my mother's choice gave me -- such basic blessings as parks, playgrounds, arts, library services, and a safe neighborhood. These are blessings we wrongly take for granted, blessings we stand to lose if we will not steward them.
"We must not abdicate our influence for good in the world." Because of President Hinckley's influence, and because of my mother's, I have learned that yes, even a full-time mother has a role to play in the community. This is why I add my tribute to all the others, public and private, that have been given this day to these two giants. Would that we could all be more like them.
First, to President Gordon B. Hinckley of the LDS Church, who today was named municipal citizen of the century by the Utah League of Cities and Towns. (Full story here.)
I can only add my endorsement. It was at President Hinckley's urging that I first stepped out of my Mormon comfort zone, and this makes him great in my book. I was living in New York, trying to decide whether to join the PTA, when I first heard him calling me to greater service. The PTA met on Monday nights, a meeting time that will make any active Mormon think twice. It was around this time that President Hinckley said, in an address to BYU students, that we "must not abdicate our influence for good in the world." I read his remarks only later, via the Internet, but felt as though his words had been directed to me.
My family moved Family Home Evenings to Sunday nights, I joined the PTA, and thus began the first of many practical lessons in public service.
How many, many times since then have I wanted to abdicate, but have been restrained by that call.
Today's second giant is my mother. Today is her birthday, and I am taking the occasion to ponder her influence on my entry into local politics.
My mother was six months along with me when the family relocated to Seattle. She tells about months spent looking for the right house. It wasn't the house that concerned her so much as the location. She and my dad held out for a long time, living in a motel, and I can only imagine how much fun this was for them with my two active older brothers.
But my mother's patience was richly rewarded. The community she chose was magnificent. I grew up a free-range child. I had my pick of parks and playgrounds. I took long, wild bike rides. I threw rocks in the lakes; I picked berries in the woods. Every month we went to the library; every day she listened as I told of the worlds I was exploring, whether on my bike or in a book.
There were performances of every kind: lectures and demonstrations at the library, recitals of local artists, and concerts by the community orchestras. We took occasional trips into Seattle proper for the ballet or the opera. And there was always music in the house. If the music wasn't live -- my mother and brothers are concert pianists -- then it came from an endless supply of classical music LPs borrowed from the library.
When I decided to be a stay-at-home mother, it was because I wanted to provide the same kind of childhood for my own children that my mother provided for me. And when I decided to run for office, it was because I wanted my children to have the same blessings of community that my mother's choice gave me -- such basic blessings as parks, playgrounds, arts, library services, and a safe neighborhood. These are blessings we wrongly take for granted, blessings we stand to lose if we will not steward them.
"We must not abdicate our influence for good in the world." Because of President Hinckley's influence, and because of my mother's, I have learned that yes, even a full-time mother has a role to play in the community. This is why I add my tribute to all the others, public and private, that have been given this day to these two giants. Would that we could all be more like them.
posted by Heidi Rodeback at 1:57 PM
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