Let’s face it, in today’s world we all stand in judgment — of others, the actions of others and, occasionally of ourselves. But that last kind appears to be falling from fashion.
In fact, now more than ever, it seems, we tend to rush to judgment. Then, all too often, we forget it quickly and move on. Or worse, hold on to it, standby as it turns into resentment and allow it to fester.
All this rapid-fire judgment and the enormous ease to inflict social-media-fuelled blowback makes for a world where it is harder and harder to show courage of conviction. But every so often, this courage is put forward. When it does, it catches the light, and glimmers. It is a subtle thing, this glimmer. It’s like a wink, a gesture that, when well timed, can express more than words. And when noticed, is received with warmth and appreciation, and is often fondly remembered for a long time.
An example of how the courage of conviction is not totally a thing of the past came last week, when Hudson town council voted to purchase a two-acre lot at the east of the land it recently acquired in the Sandy Beach area. This additional piece of waterfront land came with a comparatively heftier price, an element that deserved a considered pause. And consideration was given from all indications. But then council, despite knowing it would be subject to sharp judgment from some, showed the courage to hold to its clearly stated conviction — that the preservation of natural spaces was a priority, especially in a location that has been a cherished shared space for so long.
It would have been easy to say the initial purchase of Sandy Beach-area land was enough. It would have been possible to say the land that had been held by developers was saved, and preserved. An argument could have been made that council did what it could without buying that last bit of beachfront.
All of that could have happened. And all of that could have satisfied the harshest judges within the community — those who worry about street paving and capital expenses and all the other lines on an annual budget. Of course, this is not to say that those concerns are not pertinent, nor important. They are. The difference is weighing importance in the context of priorities, and being nibble enough to juggle the two while contending with a shifting set of circumstances where opportunities arise on their own timetable.
Despite all of that, there is another judge that still has not rendered its verdict in all of this — that of history. It will take a long time before that judgment is delivered. But when it does, it will take a much wider context into consideration. And it might come to the conclusion that preserving all the land at Sandy Beach, including not just the part that was under immediate threat of a large-scale development, but all of what makes the site a unique landscape that provides for an enduring legacy for an entire community — to experience, to share and to preserve — was an opportunity that was not missed, nor dismissed, nor somehow discouraged, but seized when it was presented despite it arriving in less than perfect or desired form.
That is courage. That is public stewardship that was outlined, articulated and executed.
Bravo.
When Sandy Beach officially reopens in the coming weeks, if you find yourself down there, look upward to see the sunlight filter through the leaves of the trees. Look for that glimmer. It will be a subtle thing that glimmer, and know that for generations to come — in the decades and centuries that will follow — others will see it too. That will be the wink they will receive from a time when some still had the courage of their convictions. And it will, indeed, be fondly remembered.
Brenda O’Farrell
Editor-in-chief