June 4, 2025
Everyday Life in Middletown
I’m reflecting that If ever there was to be a perfect entry encapsulating my “Every Day Life in Middletown,” this might be the one. Or not.
For this day, of all days, arrived with little of consequence on my calendar – free of appointments, meetings at work, or even an opportunity to take a walk outside, which usually stirs my mind to express something. A review of the day’s banking transactions revealed nary a one, not even joining some friends for a beer or three. The productive part of my day was spent pitching a writing project to another blog later in the week, and mowing the lawn ahead of Thursday rain.
I’m a product of Midwestern farmers originally from the Southeast. Thus, I’ve inherited a work ethic of a day spent doing nothing is a day wasted. But is it really? I have friends who would emphatically argue either side: the glory and toil of (‘murican) labor, vs. the need to “pause, reflect, or be chill for awhile. Fortunately I’ve been corrupted with neither dogma, or at least today I’m not going to feel guilt for it.
Lest the day be lost to history, I probably spent much of it in thought. My “day job” is developing outreach programs to promote healthier lifestyles and awareness of one’s health conditions, and hopefully make things better for people around me. My other assignment is John Q. Public: Citizen and active participant in society. Today that meant some time in thought about the community around me. Since I think about this kind of thing most days, maybe this day’s EDLM is more of a true diary or journal.
There’s been a lot written in this blog and other journals about the state of the country and our neighbors since the last election. As I’ve written before, much of the social conflict doesn’t directly affect me, as I’m white, male, middle-class, employed. I don’t stand to lose a business to costs, regulations or taxes; I don’t live in fear of being “othered” or singled out for cruelty. It does affect friends of mine. Fears of job loss, canceled insurance, de-legitimized relationships, do bother them.
What upsets me, and what fills my thoughts when I read the news, specifically the commentariat sections I just can’t ignore, are how many people are not bothered, and occasionally downright gleeful over the sociopolitical climate in this country.
In April I did something I’d never previously done: Participate in a public protest. One of the many demonstrations organized nationwide, came to Muncie not on a town square or civic hall, but our twin intersections of commerce. While most of the responses were positive in nature, I was struck by how many of my fellow citizens would casually flip me the finger while I held a sign that countered their views, just a couple weeks before they would clasp those same hands in prayer on Easter Sunday.
I tell myself there are these types of people everywhere.. but what I’ve seen much of my life around Muncie are people who are poorly educated, proudly ignorant, and defiant to the point of hostility. They are a minority of course, but a vocal one which has been entrenched in city and county leadership for generations. While others who were able got what they could from Muncie and got out, this group stayed behind, by choice or not. They bring a lot of voices to the table, and we as a community suffer for it. When area universities, including Ball State, caved to the whims of the leadership party on inclusion and free expression, a lot of folks seemed to be delighted. Many are the same people who fill up social media with grotesque grammatical errors and misspellings, commenting on public education like they hated their teachers. I’ve been involved with alumni work at my own small college of late. While one wouldn’t call it affluent, as a private school it does have some power to resist its own state legislature’s political winds. It does not have the “eff you money” and resources of Harvard, but it recently reaffirmed its commitment to opportunities for all and inclusivity, and it filled me with great pride.
Some of these people along this divide I call my peers: I work alongside them or went to school with them. Many are good people at heart, with generosity for their friends and neighbors that represents the “good” of Muncie for me-compassion and understanding for those in need of it.
I also have friends with little or no connection to the area; they came here to work at the university or elsewhere. Some of them have adopted Muncie as I, a jaded townie, never could have. They’ve sung Muncie’s praises as I’ve been detached and sniffed, “yeah, just you wait.” This schism has noticeably affected them, a few are making plans to move on.
“America’s Hometown” isn’t theirs, it’s mine. It has worn them down over time, and that pains me today.