Intramuralist, can we talk?
Absolutely. I’m not perfect at respectful dialogue. Never have been. I’ve screwed up multiple times and still do. But there is no conversation we can’t have. I really do believe we’re all in this together.
Thanks. I’m struggling this week with what’s happening in our world. It’s hard to find a way to put all I feel into words. It’s hard to find a wise angle in. I’m frustrated and flabbergasted and disappointed and sad and angry and sometimes even a little hopeless all at the same time. I really hated last week’s debate. I know, I know — it’s been this way for a long time, but it’s like all of a sudden, everyone realized it. I realized it. Before, I was able to tune most of the dysfunction out, not realizing the American political state is as awful as it actually is. I was able to find solace in one of the sides, aware that it wasn’t perfect, knowing they keep trying to divide us, but feeling like I wasn’t sacrificing anything significant. I no longer feel that way.
I watched a lot. Read a lot these past few days. And I found myself resonating maybe most with the words of Scottish historian Niall Ferguson who wrote this week about the “known” finally being known. “The president is senile. The former president is a blowhard. Both these truths have been obvious for years.”
Ferguson formats the painful resulting question as follows: “Why has the American political system provided voters with this terrible choice between two embarrassing old men for the post of president?”
Some will make their peace about our collective conundrum by concluding that one man’s flaws are decisively worse than the other. Usually that’s a statement about how only one stands for democracy; the other wants to destroy it. And then I remember how both parties actively worked to keep any unity ticket from being on this year’s ballot. I have trouble with each parties’ means of defining and defending democracy.
But after watching the shots heard ‘round the world last week, I know I’m far from alone in being confused with what is good and right and true. The enormously inconvenient truth — as hard as this is for many to accept — me, included — is that it’s not clear to me what good and right and true actually is.
Not being clear on that doesn’t make me wrong, misguided or delusional. It doesn’t make me anti-patriotic, undemocratic or outright stupid. It doesn’t make me evil either. It also doesn’t make the person on the other side of me more educated, more enlightened or smarter than me. It doesn’t make them more sophisticated either.
It means as they’ve processed what they’ve seen and prioritized, they’ve come to a place where they have peace about their choice. I hope they do. I want that for each of us. For me, I simply don’t have peace yet. And last week made it worse for me. What do I do?
I wish it was an easy answer. I wish I could just say, “Vote for – – – – – and feel good about it.” But I can’t. There are concerning factors about both people and parties.
And so I suggest a bit of a humble listening tour. Listen to a diverse set of voices. The other night after the debate, I did something unusual: I watched television news. I typically read my news so as to better filter out the biased and more sensational voices.
I circled through four stations Thursday night: CNN, FOX News, MSNBC, and NewsNation. It was fascinating, and it certainly helped with my processing. (For example, I perceived the perspective of David Axelrod, Van Jones, Dana Perino and Chris Wallace to be most honest and insightful.)
So be humble. Listen to other perspective. Ask more than speak — especially when you don’t understand. Ask instead of assess. Refrain from judgment of other people. And hard as it may be, remember we’re all in this together, even if many don’t want us to believe it is so.
Respectfully…
AR