Around here, we have an expression: “Pray for September.” Maybe you’ve heard it before. Beleaguered Islanders whisper it like a mantra in the harried months of July and August when a Steamship Authority ferry inevitably breaks down, upending our can’t-miss off-Island plans.
We mutter it under our breath when the temperature and humidity climbs, and we find ourselves once again scrubbing mildew off the walls. We silently scream it in our cars when traffic backs up, necessitating two hours just to get to the store.
To those uninitiated, it’s an admittedly strange and cynical saying, given that summers on the Vineyard are undeniably beautiful – not to mention culturally rich and restorative. There’s a reason why people pay an arm and a leg just to spend a few days here. There’s a reason why tourists flock to the Island in those months in droves.
But as anyone who has spent a shoulder season here can attest, September is when the Vineyard shines brightest. The days are still sunny but the nights are crisp; the towns are less crowded; the ocean is delightfully warm. Dinner reservations, ferry reservations, and parking spots are easier to come by. Previously locked beaches open to the public. Schedules lighten up.
After months of hurrying from one place to the next, we take time each September to finally, fully exhale. At least, we try to do so. Reality has a way of breaching our bubble. Time never fails to hurry us along.
That’s especially true this year, when history seems to be unfolding at a rapid clip. As we head to press, bombs are still raining in Israel and Gaza. Ukrainian troops are making incursions into Russia. Warships are moving toward Iran. Just in the past few weeks, we witnessed an assassination attempt on a former president’s life. Shortly after, the sitting president suspended his re-election campaign and dropped out.
Things are, thankfully, looking up in the newly configured Harris–Trump showdown. There’s even reason to believe that we might at long, long last elect a female president. Then again, we’ve stood on this precipice before and ended up badly burned.
So this year, I’m taking my cues from Massachusetts Congresswoman Ayanna Pressley, a rising star in the Democratic Party and frequent visitor to the Island, who is interviewed on page 16 of this issue. Although Pressley is expected to once again handily be re-elected this fall, she’s not letting her guard down.
“I have not been one to be along for a ride and cruise to anything,” she said. Nor is she giving into pessimism and doubt. One of her favorite expressions comes from scholar and activist Brittany Packnett Cunningham: “I choose the discipline of hope over the ease of cynicism. I choose fortitude over fatalism.”
“I ask myself daily: Am I being of use? Am I using my platform I’ve been privileged to earn? Am I practicing the discipline of hope?” Pressley said.
Each of us, regardless of our platform, has a duty to stand up for autonomy, inclusion, and dignity in this election, and to make our voices heard. So go ahead and savor these fleeting, lazy September days that we’ve long prayed for. Reel in a fish. Head to the beach. Just don’t bury your head in the sand. Remember that nothing is ever assured.
Time is moving quickly, polls can change in an instant, and there’s real boots-on-the-ground, get-out-the-vote work to be done. Get out there and make your mark. November, after all, is when our prayers – and our votes – really count.
