My story? No, it's our story.

I tell my story 
because it’s not just my story.
 
It’s our story.

On Monday, I was working my volunteer gig at my church when this lovely Upworthy compilation came through my Facebook newsfeed. Any other week, I would probably have rolled my eyes with irritation and felt a mild sense of hopelessness and inevitability about the state of our infrastructure. Any other week, I would have pushed share, said something snarky, and moved on- it’s already been my problem, someone else needs to take it from here.

But this isn’t any other week.

On Saturday, my story - our story - is going to air on ABC for all the world to see. Just like in the video clip from John Oliver, In an Instant, is going to seem like a movie. In fact they are billing it as a "movie premiere event series." Occasionally I’ll show up on screen to remind viewers that it’s not a movie, that it was real life-- but where will it go from there?

I don’t know how many times over the last seven years I’ve heard the stories of others who were almost there... who had just driven over it... who drove it everyday except that one... who worried from a far about loved ones living in Minneapolis. Those stories matter, just as much as mine does- because it could have been anyone. My story could be your story. I wish it wasn’t so easy for me to say that in the present tense, but it’s as true today as it was then.

An insensitive guy from the National Transportation and Safety Board (NTSB) once chalked up the actual cause of the collapse to a butterfly flapping it’s wings in China. From his perspective, there was just no telling what caused its ultimate demise at 6:05pm on Aug. 1, 2007.

A design flaw was the official culprit. Which, in my world, is also known as a politically convenient excuse to do nothing. Even in our own state, just six months after our collective trust was shattered, the governor thought it was a good move to veto a gas tax increase that would pay for infrastructure improvements. Luckily, our legislature overrode his veto by a slim margin.

As I watched the John Oliver piece this week, it wasn’t mild frustration I felt. Nope, instead what I felt was a primal form of rage simmering just beneath the surface of my skin. I wanted to scream and get it out of my body- but my surroundings wouldn’t allow for that- so I took to twitter, sending notes to my senators and representatives urging them to watch the show on Saturday night and use it to make things right. To remind people that it's not a movie- that it was real life, and will be again if we don't act.

There are lots of other things I want to fight for - would rather fight for - but until this wrong has been righted, I will continue to fight this fight by telling my story. Because it is our story. Few things unite us, but bridges (both literally and figuratively) do just that. No one is exempt from the consequences of a crumbling infrastructure- no race, no creed, no class, no orientation.

There's no getting around it, my story is horrifying. No one should go through what I and others went through. So if you watch on Saturday night, funnel your horror into a letter to your members of Congress. Not sure who they are? Search for them here, then write them a letter, give them a call, or send them a tweet. Nothing will change unless you tell them to change it.