Only My Hairdresser Knows for Sure

Everybody waves. When I am out walking, drivers passing by wave. The wave can just be a slight lifting motion, raising the hand from the steering wheel; nonetheless it’s a greeting and acknowledgment of fellow humanity.

Everybody chats. Or so it seems, as I go from errand to errand. I encounter outgoing grocery store checkers, talkative hardware store employees, conversational postal clerks and more. All have time and ready smiles.

Whether it is from being farther south or living in a smaller community, or who knows what else, people are friendly.

Up to a point.

As I’ve written here, I know it will take time to feel at home here. Last week, I came across a story that perfectly captures what it feels like to be a newcomer.  In her new book on Theodore Roosevelt and William Howard Taft, Doris Kearns Goodwin talks about Roosevelt attending his first political meetings in New York City.

Roosevelt wrote in his autobiography that he “went around there often enough to have the men get accustomed to me and to have me get accustomed to them” so they could get past what Bret Harte called “the defective moral quality of being a stranger. ”

So, it’s not me. That’s a relief! My defect is being new. People need to get used to us.

TR’s was a good approach; it clearly worked for him. Among other things, familiarity breeds familiarity.

Little did I know I was following such a colorful and estimable role model when I started attending local political meetings last September. I just knew I wanted to meet some like-minded people and to contribute.

However, there’s another Roosevelt who is providing guidance to me as I attend meetings and start to make my way in our new community.

Eleanor Roosevelt famously said (you can read this quotation on everything from shirts to plates to lunchbags and more):

“Do one thing every day that scares you.”

I thought I was doing that already by putting myself in so many new situations, including yoga and personal training. But, those are all small potatoes compared with what’s coming.

Our county’s newly formed Democratic women’s auxiliary chapter holds its first fundraising event next month. It’s a “Lunch With Legends.” Every member is expected to portray a legendary woman. Our leader, who is tall and articulate and striking as well as African-American, will be Sojourner Truth. Another member, I am confident, will be an excellent Rosa Parks.

I may be a longtime speechwriter, but ghostwriters put words in other peoples’ mouths. We are not at the podium or even on the dais. Public speaking, much less public performance, scares me.

But, Mrs. Roosevelt, what’s retirement for, if not for trying new things and expanding horizons? And, here’s a big positive about being a newcomer:  I won’t know many of the people in the audience.

I’ll be the stranger and I hope not a defective one.

During the event’s planning discussion I spoke up, which is easy in the comfort of a small group in a small room.  I said I would portray Ann Richards.  After all, I’m a native Texan and the late governor, leader and remarkable public speaker made me proud to hail from the Lone Star State.

I can stand and deliver. I will research. I will practice. I will find a suitable suit with brassy buttons. But, can I look like Ann Richards?

Only my hairdresser knows for sure.

 

My role model