They say hope floats

James Clements
Published: February 24, 2008

"Hope is not blind optimism. It's not ignoring the enormity of the task ahead or the roadblocks that stand in our path. It's not sitting on the sidelines or shirking from a fight. Hope is that thing inside us that insists, despite all evidence to the contrary, that something better awaits us if we have the courage to reach for it, and to work for it, and to fight for it."
- Sen. Barack Obama

It's an invisible force, but it's everywhere you look these days.

It's in each bulb that has sprouted through near-frozen ground; it's on the faces of schoolchildren as they go to bed dreaming of snow instead of more ice; it's even in the hearts of Washington Nationals fans who (for one month) know their team is still tied for first.

Yes, "hope" is making it's annual comeback.
Hope means so many different things to all of us, but has it now lost all meaning- Here are a few examples of my own that come to mind:

- I hope I win the lottery, though I never buy a ticket. Is that really hope, or is it just muttering-

- I hope my son is six feet tall, though I'm 5-foot-8 and my wife is 5-foot-2. Are their enough hormones in our food supply to make up the difference (sadly, maybe).

- I hope the Nationals will win their division (I'd settle for finishing ahead of Atlanta), but unfortunately hope can't hit a curveball.

In all of these cases, hope isn't really hope at all; it's not even prayer. It's that naivete and blind optimism Barack Obama refutes in his remark above.

I read another example of this type of "hope" in this newspaper last week. In an editorial, (Our View: "Thorny school issue needs wise solution," Feb. 19) the writer said:

"We've editorialized before that if one school had to wait a year before opening, Yowell would be the best option. However, we seriously hope it doesn't come to that. We're crossing our fingers that our elected officials can find some sort of middle ground that will benefit public education and not overburden taxpayers."

These comments were in regard to the Solomon's choice facing our local School Board and Board of Supervisors. On the one hand are two new schools (Eastern View High School and Yowell Elementary) and the price tag that comes with actually operating them. On the other hand is a $4 million county budget shortfall.

While not politically enjoyable, this shouldn't be a difficult decision: We either need the schools to open or we don't. And if we do, then we have to pay for them. There's nothing more American and capitalistic than that.

But the idea of "crossing our fingers" in hopes of having it both ways is sort of like standing outside a restaurant waiting for a "free" meal and wondering why you're still hungry.

It's this perversion of hope that makes me such a supporter of realists like former Gov. Mark Warner and so skeptical of many of our other elected officials. I'm sure I'm not alone when I say that we make our own hope. Even if we ask for divine help, we still get farther when we roll up our sleeves to get things done.

And no matter how much we wish for easy solutions, sometimes we have to pay for the things we want and need.

Just the other day, I was late leaving my office and knew there was a good chance I'd miss my train. When there was no bus in sight, I hailed a cab to take me the dozen blocks. I wasn't happy about having to a pay a two-zone cab fare in Washington, D.C., but if I hadn't, I might still be sitting there.

I needed something, I paid for it, and life goes on. The same will be true with our schools, where we send our next generation of hopes and dreams to learn each day. I'd rather not choose to just cross my fingers about that.

James Clements is a Culpeper resident and
independent columnist who appears each Monday.
E-mail