There's no "they" here

It's a common occurrence.  You drive or walk around your town and you notice changes.  Look at the new dress shop downtown.   Suzie's cafe has reopened.  We have a new photography gallery in the old hotel.  Someone is moving in or out of the old travel agency building, the one that was so cleverly painted as a giant suitcase, then sadly painted over, then vacated.

In most places, big places, where change just seems to happen, we always wonder what "they" are doing.  I wonder what they are doing to that building.  Why are they changing that sign?  When are they going to finish paving this street?

But here in GroveAtopia we usually know who "they" are so instead we say, Karen finally opened her dress shop, and Julie and Brinsley's photo gallery is open, and, well, Suzie - but we know this time it's her daughter - has reopened the cafe.  

We don't live under the cloud of uncertainty "they" can sometimes bring.  We know the people, and their stories, so our happenings make sense.   We have context, background and oftentimes personal or second-hand knowledge of the people who are behind the changes we see.

It would be easier if "they" were responsible for everything.  Then we could blame "them" for things we don't like.  But they aren't.  We are "they", as are our friends and neighbors, and their friends and neighbors, who are practically your friends and neighbors because they are theirs.

"They" don't live in GroveAtopia.  We do.  You and I, and those we know and those who know us.  We don't even know who "they" are.  All the "theys" here have names and stories.  That's why when things happen here, whether we agree or disagree, whether it makes us happy or sad, we nearly always understand, because we usually know exactly who "they" are.