our country is butterfly goo

I was recently talking to an 84-year old friend. Mary joined the Peace Corps in the sixties, then spent her whole career in Africa and Southeast Asia helping refugees. Earlier this year she shared with me that she was feeling “a little worn thin” having watched her life work be destroyed by the stroke of a pen. USAID, as it turns out, really was funding life-saving work overseas.

Yesterday I shared my opinion with her that the United States is like a teenager: just figuring our shit out, confused, rebellious, in an existential crisis... frankly, being an asshole. Her perspective? “It’s much more like menopause.”

“Whatever it is, I can say that this is a period of extraordinary change, and things will be different on the other side.” Mary sounded so calm about it all, which was refreshing. Even my dad, an apolitical small business owner who spent decades voting Republican, recently called the words and actions of the current administration “upsetting.”

Instead of just feeling scared, heartbroken, angry, or upset about it all, let’s run with Mary’s mindset--that maybe this is just a period of change.

Our culture loves to celebrate butterflies, and the transition from fat little wormlike larvae into delicate winged beauty. Between the caterpillar and the butterfly is the chrysalis or cocoon, but we don’t talk about this stage too often. Maybe it’s because this stage of a lepidoptera’s life is called the pupa, which is pronounced either “poo-puh” or “pyoo-puh” depending on who you’re talking to—and this is just too ridiculous a word to use in casual conversation. Or maybe it’s because the pupas don’t do anything, as far as we can see.

The truth is that pupas are doing a lot. Within the walls of the chrysalis or cocoon, the caterpillar’s body releases enzymes to break down its own tissues into a protein-rich goo. These enzymes are not dissimilar from the enzymes in our stomach—but instead of digesting food, they’re digesting the caterpillar itself. So, within the walls of the pupa, there is primordial soup sloshing around and reorganizing itself into a butterfly. What the fuck you guys.

As Dylan sang in my daughter’s favorite lullaby: “the times they are a-changing.” Bob and Mary are right. If the jerks in power shape the next phase of the United States, it won’t be pretty. But, if we the people can stand up for the freedom of speech, justice for all, and caring for the natural world, then maybe we will emerge from this mess more beautiful than before.

I recently saw a clip in which Stephen Miller referred to a group of activists as “all old hippies” and told the old people to “go home.” Here’s the thing: my old hippie friends have seen first-hand that peaceful protest can be effective. These people remember protesting the war in Vietnam; they remember the Civil Rights Movement; they remember what it looks and feels like to come together, stand up for your values, and see positive change take place. Our country has a lot of issues—ageism is one of them—and it is time for us to take a page out of the book of the old people. They are, after all, the butterflies among us.