Before bed, we read about tyranny
Photograph by Vitaly Gariev via Unsplash
Rev. Dr. Justin Cox
My house is held together by rituals. These are practices that must be done in order for my family to complete the day. Some of these habits are necessary because of the season of life we find ourselves in.
There is always a load of laundry to do. There is always a load of dishes to wash. The floor in the living room must be vacuumed at least three times before the sun sets. The presence of children requires as much.
Other customs are individualistic.
For me, this means rising before anyone else, getting the coffee going, and getting our oldest off to school. Our mornings are synchronized better than Olympic swimmers.
Our evenings are no less predictable. They have been that way for a while.
Supper. Baths. Pajamas, teeth brushing, and bed. Rinse. Lather. Repeat.
If this order is followed, my spouse and I have done all we can do to ensure a less eventful night.
However, we have to tie the ribbon, put the cherry on the sundae, before we let the curtain drop on the day’s final act.
We have to read bedtime stories.
We started this early with our firstborn. Hearing a story in bed signals that the day is about to end. We ask the children to grab a book, and off they go into their room, where we catch the shuffling of options before finally hearing the pounding of returning footsteps.
Their selections are eclectic and have gone through stages. We have read “Paw Patrol” and “Daniel Tiger.” We have moved through classics such as “Going On A Goon Hunt.” We picked up the series “Barb the Last Berzerker” and devoured it. Lately, we have been on R.L. Stine’s “Goosebumps.” The latter makes my Halloween-loving heart happy.
Every now and then, I’m allowed to bring a selection to the table. I still read what they place in my hand, but let them know that I want us to read a few pages of something I think they should hear. Sometimes we read a quick story from the “Whirl: Kids’ Story Bible.” Currently, we are looking at something more complex, so we take it in small doses.
It’s an adapted graphic edition of Timothy Snyder’s work, “On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century.” I picked it up at a local bookstore over the summer. As I placed it on the counter, the cashier said, “This is wonderful. I actually read it to my kids at night.”
After paying, I tucked the book under my arm and placed his suggestion in the back of my mind.
Snyder’s work had been on my radar for over a year. Initially published in 2017, “On Tyranny” has since sold over 1 million copies. It saw a significant boost in sales after the January 6 insurrection. It made the New York Times bestseller list and is now in its 47th printing.
Snyder’s extensive scholarship in modern European history means I believe he has some inkling of what he’s talking about. A fair number of others do, including the Institute of Human Sciences in Vienna and the Dutch Auschwitz Committee. He’s been honored by both. Awards abound.
I wonder if the ritual of reading to my children is more for me or for them. I know that someday, one closing in all too soon, this ritual will shift, and I won't be granted the access to them that I take for granted now. This is a sobering reminder that the time we get with others is holy, fleeting, and should be meaningful.
The version that sits on my bedside table was released in 2021 and features the artistic talents of Nora Krug, who was awarded Illustrator of the Year in 2019 by the U.K.’s Victoria and Albert Museum. Krug is also a sitting associate professor at Parsons School of Design in New York City.
Flipping through the pages, it became apparent that Krug’s artwork is hard to define. I found that most art is. What I see is a combination of several techniques, blended beautifully, to create something hauntingly striking to the eye.
Turning page after page, I feel like I’m looking at something personally made for me, like a journal filled with clips of hand-drawn artwork mingled with scissor-cut images from random magazines and old, dusty encyclopedias. The whole thing has a collage-like feel that you can't quite put your finger on, but know it speaks to you.
For me, it feels a bit punk rock - a little anarchistic, brimming with emotion, and slightly dangerous.
My children just think some of the pages look cool.
The book is not so much chapter-based as point-focused. Twenty lessons, each offering well-researched, insightful perspectives, highlight where the modern authoritarian movement learned its tactics. Pulling examples from Polish workers forming a union in the early 1980s to the spread of Nazism throughout Europe, Snyder’s words and Krug’s images showcase a troubling cobblestone path that has led us to the front door of present-day fascism.
How much my children get from this is questionable. Perhaps seeds are being scattered, with some hopefully being planted in good soil. Certain sections are more accessible than others. Lesson Eight is entitled “Stand Out,” and opens with this thought,
“Someone has to. It is easy to follow along. It can feel strange to do or say something different. But without that unease, there is no freedom. Remember Rosa Parks. The moment you set the example, the spell of the status quo is broken, and others will follow.”[i]
My oldest recognizes the name Rosa Parks because of my spouse, myself, and her public-school education. We read the section together, and while not entirely unpacking everything, we chose to focus on how it’s okay to stand out and be assertive for oneself, even if it isn’t popular.
We are still working our way through the book. We go weeks without touching it, but when we do, it’s an experiment in exposure, not a class in indoctrination.
Each time we do, I wonder if the ritual of reading to my children is more for me or for them. I know that someday, one closing in all too soon, this ritual will shift, and I won’t be granted the access to them that I take for granted now. This is a sobering reminder that the time we get with others is holy, fleeting, and should be meaningful.
I intended to make the most of it and, by doing so, pass along this ritual to them to invoke for those they love in the future.
Rev. Dr. Justin Cox is the senior minister at Emerywood Baptist Church, High Point, North Carolina. He received his theological education from Campbell University, Wake Forest University School of Divinity, and McAfee School of Theology. Opinions and reflections are his own.
The views expressed are those of the author and not necessarily those of American Baptist Home Mission Societies.
[i] Snyder, Timothy. On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century. Graphic edition. Nora Krug, illustrator. New York: Ten Speed Press, 2021, p. 43.
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