by Dorothy Bradley
As I have learned to do in the last 20 years, I stepped outside the house on March 14 and waited for the bubbling sound of “the Sandies.” And there one was—home after five months of southern living, they were arriving like clockwork. As I always do at their first March announcement, and again at their high, circling departure into the October sky as they call for the laggards—I burst into tears. Something is still right with the world.
I worry endlessly about these beauties—that climate change will screw up their food sources or their migration map. Or that they will become victims of the trapping fetish, and hauled half alive into bars dressed in Emu costumes. Or that microplastics will rot their brains. Or they will be shot out of the sky for sport, leaving their life mate having to face the world alone.
Which brings to mind two other issues: guns and plastics.
I remember an interesting time 10 or 20 years ago when I realized many of my gun-loving friends were no longer intent on keeping burglars and crooks off their doorsteps, but were now protecting themselves from “the government.” I thought this change was fascinating. Almost overnight, the enemy was suddenly the government. And that sentiment intensified, even justifying owning assault weapons.
Having been dedicated to government most of my professional life, I found this perspective hard to swallow. And it erupted once again when Covid descended on us and the paranoia of vaccines quickly blanketed our whole country, which has now led to some scary scenarios like an outbreak of measles. Measles is considered to be so successfully eradicated that it is no longer taught in medical schools. And listening to Texas doctors, it is clear that that learning about measles on the fly has been a challenge.
“… a little inner voice tells me there is something wrong with this picture. My pitch to my constituents, all during my years in the Montana legislature, was that the government is us. And our government reflects we-the-people as vividly as a mirror. When the politicians get rude and angry, it is a sure sign that we-the-people have become rude and angry. When there is no trust left in the body politic, there is no trust among we-the-people.”
Which brings me to plastics. Besides finding microplastics everywhere on our planet, including salvageable amounts in our brains and probably the brains of sandhill cranes, we now learn that microplastics are slashing photosynthesis rates worldwide, which will probably impact the growth of essential crops like wheat and corn.
And all this makes me furious with “the government,” and angry because our government is not keeping us informed. For sure, the government is not protecting us—and microplastics are the least of it. I will not lay out my laundry list. So here I am, just like the gun advocates and the anti-vaxers, railing at “the government.”
But a little inner voice tells me there is something wrong with this picture. My pitch to my constituents, all during my years in the Montana legislature, was that the government is us. And our government reflects we-the-people as vividly as a mirror. When the politicians get rude and angry, it is a sure sign that we-the-people have become rude and angry. When there is no trust left in the body politic, there is no trust among we-the-people. In fact, when I started out in politics 50 years ago, almost two-thirds of the people trusted each other. Polls now indicate that our trust of each other has sunk to less than one-third. Think about it. When you are standing in line at the grocery store, do you trust the people in front and in back of you? Would you ask them to hold your child’s hand, or even your phone, while you run to the restroom? Of course not. Actually, you are not even noticing them because you are using your phone. Gone are the days when we would be sneaking peaks at the tabloids.
And this leads me to the most obvious conclusion—we must reclaim our government. We must become part of it where we can, and at the very least, let it mirror our human best. Instead of our anger, let it reflect our willingness to extend our hand to our fellow humans, our nurturing of our young, our reverence for our aging and suffering, and our love and stewardship of this one and only beautiful planet and especially its glorious sandhill cranes.
SPECIAL EDITOR’S NOTE: You, our dear Yellowstonian readers, are invited to a special event. Dorothy Bradley will be joining Marc Racicot on stage May 22, 2025 for a free public discussion at the historic Ellen Theatre in downtown Bozeman, Montana. The focus is a lively conversation about civility, democracy, our shared public lands heritage and the need for a renewed sense of citizenship.The evening is hosted by Yellowstonian and co-sponsored with the Montana Wildlife Federation. It begins promptly at 7 pm. Please bring along young people who might benefit from seeing what true statesmanship still looks like. Bradley, a Democrat, and Racicot, a Republican—and both popular Montana elected officials— faced off against each other in the 1992 Montana gubernatorial race, which Racicot won by a narrow margin. Bradley served eight terms in the Montana House of Representatives and when she was first elected at age 23 she was the only woman serving in that august institution. Bradley lives today in the Shields Valley of Park County, Montana located north of the Yellowstone River between the Crazy and Bridger mountains.
