Three cheers to late bloomers, I may be one of them.
I don't recall a period in my life—a period many children go through—when every other sound out of my mouth was in the form of the word "why?"
Questioning everything: I'm late to this party, but there's no doubt I've arrived (sometimes to the chagrin of family, friends, or anyone within earshot). Blame it on the rhythm of my life, or the grad school program I finished up 18 months ago, or the epiphany that any one person can make a difference, I now look at the world in front of me and ask "Why?"
Why do so many Republicans call climate change hooey? Why can't intelligent people discern between bins marked "Compost," "Recycle," and "Landfill?" Why do individuals awaiting the return of friends or family from a nearby store insist on waiting in an idling car? Why does anybody leave his or her kid and/or dog inside a parked car on a sweltering afternoon?
The why is the trailhead.
The how: How do we weed out the kudzu-like spread of politics-as-usual and evolve into a democracy piloted by elected and inspirational public servants? How do we create a system that makes composting and recycling easier and more ubiquitous? How do we dissemble the barriers of behavioral and societal ignorance that lead to tragedy? How? That is the question.