Ed. note: Sometimes I read these archives and think I'm a little melodramatic. Three years later, Matt Blood no longer lives in Hartford, and the trees we planted in this one have been since ripped up by the Mayor, but the writing here still stands. And this one has a follow-up column I'll post tomorrow.

 

What do you want? Matt Blood asked me recently.

 

“I want to live in a place I am not ashamed of,” I said. My country, as great as it is, makes me sad. We endure lives of automobile-based alienation, maintain suicidal facades of arrogance and ignorance, disregard the people around us who suffer poverty and oppression.

 

I want to live in a pretty city, prospering on its own sense of pride, justice and effort. I want to spend time with people who feed, clothe and educate themselves, who have respect for the planet which sustains all our existences.

 

I feel I can be a part of building my ideal world by doing activities that promote this vision. Matt got me thinking. Gandhi said “Become the change you want to see.” Wherever I can, I want to heed those words. It takes discipline and courage, but I recently saw a quote that exhorted me, whenever I feel weak, to turn to my vision for strength.

 

I want to see a car-free city, so I ride my bike. Saturday morning, my wheels took me to the corner of Broad and Farmington, where the Hartford Green Team, sponsored by Knox Parks Foundation, planted a few dozen trees on the lot where Hartford Public High School once sat.

 

I want to see a city that is green and clean. So I helped plant some trees with Jack Hale and about 20 other hardy souls.

 

I want to see a city free from litter. So we took advantage of a small clearing in the forsythia to pick up a big black garbage bag of trash — bottles, cans, car parts, even a syringe.

 

I want to see a city providing for its own food. So I spend time with Andrew Clark and a small but loyal band of volunteers to construct a community garden on Sargeant Street. Sunday morning, we cleaned off the cement foundation from the garage at the back of the lot, and picked up litter on the site.

 

All these seemingly insignificant actions add up, I hope, to make a difference. If I didn’t think so, I would invest my time elsewhere. Yet I often consider that I should do more. The unfettered march of capital across the globe makes my efforts feel paltry.

 

Newt Gingrich, speaking at the Connecticut Forum a few years ago, may have been right when he said America is a massive aristocracy. My corollary: Americans (and I am one) are a spoiled, soft people, afraid of discomfort, fearing the cold and rain.

 

On a sunny Sunday, 300,000 people visited downtown Hartford to worship some young adults who can toss a sphere into a hole. Can we imagine these same 300,000 marching, demanding an equal education for those living in Hartford?

 

In Sunday’s Courant, Paul Goldberger challenged us: “How we will express the urban impulse for the next generation, while still making civilized living environments in which we can all somehow function together, is the crucial question for us all.”