intramuralist ™

Recently stated was that I don’t believe “‘this thing we keep calling 2020’ has inserted all sorts of newness and new perspective into our lives. Rather, I believe it’s revealed — more like ‘ripped the Band-Aid off’ — of what was already there.”

Perhaps our most significant gaping wound in which the bandage has been ripped off is our lack of allowance for another to be where they are. Many feel increasingly, gratuitously empowered to be the one who declares what’s acceptable, debatable, or even allowed to be uttered and discussed.

This past week I’ve read two fantastic pieces that seem to have uncovered more of this wound.

First, from Tim Alberta, the chief political correspondent for Politico Magazine…

Alberta began writing a poignant, year long series last January, attempting to connect ordinary Americans to one another, helping us see those who are alike — and those who are not. He wanted us to hear the voices of others, the voices of our “fellow citizens far removed from stations of influence and power, who actually hold in their hands the fate of this democratic experiment.”

“From the mountains of northeastern Pennsylvania to the desert wilderness of New Mexico, while sitting in the backseats of Uber vehicles and standing outside of voting precincts and touring shuttered restaurants,” Alberta aimed to help us “know what was on their minds and in their hearts.”

Alberta’s unscientific study is fascinating. In his final piece entitled “Letter to Washington: 20 Americans Who Explain the 2020 Election,” he shares from some most articulate individuals… persons of varied age, ethnicity, faith, gender, preference, etc… persons who voted for Biden and who voted for Trump… persons who were enthusiastic about their vote, “held their nose” during their vote, or were disappointed in the choice for whom to vote. This, my friends, is diversity.

In that cross-section, Alberta came to a final conclusion — and potentially the reason a wound can hurt so much…

“I detected one common feeling that binds together this deeply fractured nation: fear. Fear of violence. Fear for their livelihoods. Fear of far-left socialism or far-right authoritarianism. Fear that our best days are behind us. Fear that America is no longer capable of conquering its great challenges. Above all, fear that we are too alienated, too angry with each other, too fundamentally misunderstood by the other half of society to ever truly heal.”

How profound that what Alberta asserts we may most have in common is our fear. 

The second piece was an interview by the British Internet magazine Spiked of Chris Arnade, a liberal American photographer and the author of Dignity: Seeking Respect in Back Row America, in which he shares his experience, traveling across the country, speaking to people in poor and working-class communities. Arnade talks about the gap between us… 

“The gap is not about how you vote – it is about how you think about the world. The elites – what I call the front row – are not really defined by class, although there is overlap. They are more defined by education and a very materialistic worldview: they generally see themselves as mobile, global, secular and morally right. And they view the back row as being lesser, stuck in provincial and outdated views about the world and themselves.

The front row is detached and completely clueless about the people it rules. Its members run the political system and business and define our cultural and economic capital. Therefore, they have an obligation to understand the people they lord over…”

Both reads are both poignant and profound. Both show the divide and the common. Each also shows where the bandage is ripped off. But what if we could stop the bleeding?

Notes Alberta in regard to those he met: “They are not a statistically perfect sample of the electorate. They will not check every box or speak to every possible viewpoint of the roughly 160 million Americans who voted this year. What they will do, both individually and collectively, is provide a depth of perspective that cannot be captured in infographic maps or exit polls or social media posts. With half of this country bewildered by the motivations and rationales of the other half, these 20 citizens can help us understand this moment in America—and maybe, just maybe, understand each other.”

Ah, a depth of perspective… a way to understand each other… Maybe there’s a way to put the Band-Aid back on…

Respectfully…

AR

As oft advocated, the Intramuralist believes in an intentional, careful, news source selection. It’s not that we shouldn’t be subject to bias; however, we can’t claim to possess an accurate, objective perspective if we rely on a singular side, voice or source.

Hence, today’s post was originally set to share a short sampling of my recent reading — written by respectful authors who made me think… for example… 

From Richard Wolf in USA TODAY, in an editorial entitled “Donald Trump stood no chance in front of a conservative Supreme Court. Here’s why”:

“The Supreme Court’s refusal to help Donald Trump change the result of the 2020 election should come as no surprise for the very reason the president hoped to win the case: The court is conservative… ‘The hallmark of conservative jurisprudence is respect for established law. No one should be surprised that the justices, like the Trump-appointed lower court judges in all these election cases, followed the law.’”

From Aaron Tang, professor of law at UC Davis and a former law clerk to Justice Sonia Sotomayor, in the Los Angeles Times, in an editorial entitled “The new Supreme Court is sending surprisingly centrist signals”:

“How far will the Supreme Court’s new conservative supermajority go? …Surprisingly, comments in three major oral arguments held since Justice Amy Coney Barrett took her seat offer significant clues. Across these cases, several conservative justices asked questions revealing a desire to find compromises that, to some degree, could satisfy both sides of the partisan divide…”

From Jonathan Chait in NY Magazine, in an editorial entitled “How Michael Anton’s ‘Flight 93 Election’ Essay Defined the Trump Era”:

“That is the power of Anton’s chosen analogy, which urges his audience to overlook all of Trump’s complete unfitness to handle the job (‘You—or the leader of your party—may make it into the cockpit and not know how to fly or land the plane,’ he concedes) on the grounds that the alternative means imminent national death…”

From David French in The French Press, in an editorial entitled “The Case Against Xavier Becerra”:

“If I had to sum up my objection to Becerra in a single sentence, it would be this: He’s a punitive progressive culture warrior. I realize that Biden is pro-choice and will pick a pro-choice HHS secretary. But the man he picked has a pattern and practice of pushing progressive cultural causes beyond the constitutional red line…”

And then I found The Thread. Follow me here.

With 13 federal prisoners scheduled to be executed by the end of Pres. Trump’s term, debate on the death penalty has increased. I knew, therefore, I needed to find a source that’s better… better than CNN, FOX, or pretty much the Daily anything. There are legitimate arguments for and against its use. I don’t want anyone’s bias to be the basis for my thinking. 

Directed by AllSides, I found an article on The Thread entitled “Should We Resume Capital Punishment Federally?”

And fascinatingly, they didn’t try to talk me into anything. 

First, they state the context. They then ask, “Why does this question matter?” Next is a factual account of the differences between state and federal application. Trends were concisely shared. And then they actually wrote the words that the CNN’s, FOX’s, etal.’s rarely seem to utter: “What do you think?”

To quote Jim Carey in the iconic “Bruce Almighty,” “B-E-A-Utiful!!”

The Thread then took a respectful look at both sides.

With all the quieted, affirmed accounts of who was allowed to talk about what in the weeks leading up to the election, note the contrasting approach of TheThreadWeekly.com…

“Welcome to a fresh take on news built by researchers who were feeling frayed. We’re frayed from 24/7 sensational headlines, biased reporting, and an endless drone of opinions that either make you want to cry out in despair or punch someone. We call it, ‘living in the fray.’”

“The fray doesn’t feel good.” 

They’re right. And so The Thread boldly aims to “be the first thread of change” — “the go-to resource for factual and politically diverse commentary on some of the most important issues we face. We represent the independent thinkers and the politically exhausted. We believe that research and data empower us to face our most pressing challenges. That arming people with knowledge will help us to look beyond political silos and form our own opinions.”

Wow… one more word…

“Our goal is simple: We want to get factual information into the hands of thoughtful people, so that they can shape our future. It all starts with a thread.”

Oh, this is good, thoughtful people.

No, it’s not just good. It’s better.

Respectfully…

AR

Many days we’ve asserted the fact that people experience life differently. As written here before the pandemic ever began, for example…

“My Hispanic neighbors across the street are consistently engaged in managing their business and chasing after their adorable, young children.

My gay friends on the corner take some glorious, fantastic vacations.

The married professionals next door are gone a lot; we don’t talk as much as any of us would like.

And the single, black mom down the block has an incredibly full plate.

Each of us experience the world differently. And that’s just on my small street.”

Friends, my sense is we can say this until we’re rhetorically blue in the face. But I’m not sure we really believe it. We might agree we experience life differently. But I’m not sure we agree that the experience of another is equally valid.

We experience life differently.

We are affected by life differently.

Not every aspect of life affects all people the same way.

Let’s play with some continued, respectful, more challenging examples…

I know multiple people who unfortunately have Covid-19 right now. For some it is life-threatening. For others it’s just a cough.

I know multiple people significantly affected by the Affordable Care Act. For some it has provided a less expensive means to healthcare. For others it has cost them thousands.

I know multiple people who have been mistreated because of their gender. For some they were grossly abused. For others they have a history of prevarication.

I mean zero disrespect, friends. What I reject is the notion that we are this monolith culture — fueled by an identity embedded in the erroneous idea that all who share a circumstance, demographic, or distinguishing characteristic are affected in exactly the same way. And because we’ve concluded that we are affected the same way, we should also think, feel, and vote the same way.

When we are lured into such thinking, we are oft lured further into concluding that if another actually does not think like me, the way they experience life is less credible, viable or valid. To be clear…

credible | ˈkredəb(ə)l | adjective – able to be believed; convincing.

viable | ˈvīəb(ə)l | adjective – capable of working successfully; feasible.

valid | ˈvaləd | adjective – having a sound basis in logic or fact; reasonable.

So let’s ask the bigger question…

Why do we fall prey to the notion of a monolith way?

And — bigger still — what is the danger of such thinking?

No doubt B.Brown, Carnegie, Covey, etal. would each have far more substantiated answers than here, but let’s humbly attempt a simplistic stab…

Why do we fall prey? 

It’s easier. It’s easier to come to conclusions that fit in my already established, current world view. We are not fond of the outlier.

So what’s the danger of adhering to such?

When we forget that we experience life differently, we fail to honor the life that is different than our own.

We honor not because another is deemed deserving; we honor because it’s a wise way to live.

Respectfully…

AR

P.S. An added note… I’ve never known a person generous with their honor who lived with much regret… fascinating, indeed…

To be two-dimensional means to “appear to have length and breadth but no depth.” In other words, there only exists what we see from a singular stance, what’s on the surface — nothing behind the object, nothing backing it up.

To be three-dimensional adds the depth; there exists more than what we see. In fact, there may be far more than what we see. We know that. We recognize the existence of a third dimension; it’s not in question. We also accept and affirm our inability to see all dimensions from a singular stance. 

We live in a three-dimensional world.

As this year nears its hopefully auspicious end, I’ve been playing with how we collectively see the world. Note that I don’t believe “this thing we keep calling 2020” has inserted all sorts of newness and new perspective into our lives. Rather, I believe it’s revealed — more like “ripped the BandAid off” — of what was already there.

With all due respect, 2020 has made clear that we stink at handling conflict.

Consider what sage conflict resolution experts advocate…

From Steven Covey: “Seek first to understand, then to be understood.”

From Brené Brown: “I believe one of the most courageous things to say in an uncomfortable conversation is, ‘Tell me more.’”

From Dale Carnegie: “You need to understand the other side’s concerns and motivation.”

Hear the experts… understand another… tell me more… work at it… work some more.

But the ripping off of the figurative bandage has allowed us to fuel this faulty notion that we really don’t have to work to understand another; there’s no need to listen well… Why? Because we think we already, completely understand another. 100%… “What else could their reason be?” we ask. Note the said question is not evidence of curiosity; it’s instead justification of a minimal at best stab at discernment.

That’s what happens when we wrestle with conflict in a two-dimensional world.

A two-dimensional world encourages the fallacy that it’s me against you… us against them… black vs. white. If a person articulates an opinion, we think we completely get them — and get why they adhere to that perspective, because we’ve concluded there exists only two possible ways to think.

A two-dimensional world — a two-dimensional approach to conflict — ignores depth. Hence, it’s grossly incomplete.

Regardless of whether a person articulates a perspective via Twitter’s allowed 280 characters, Snapchat’s 250, or even the 2,200 allowed on Instagram — it’s not enough to substantiate another’s perceived all-knowing; it’s not enough to form a full perspective. That’s true in person, too. To understand another in the midst of conflict, especially when emotions may run high, it takes work… hard, ongoing work. It takes more than one, two, maybe even more than 17 conversations. The work is not for purposes of determining which so-called “side” another has adopted; the work is for purposes of actually understanding all the nuances that have shaped the way the other feels the way they do.

Name your topic… the election, choice of candidates, the vaccine, whether to get it or not, media bias, “Me Too,” inequality, immigration, healthcare, looting, critical race theory, the Supreme Court, the coming announcement of Time’s “Person of the Year”, “Hillbilly Elegy,” or even the great mask debate of 2020… there are far more than two dimensions shaping a person’s perspective.  

A two-dimensional approach is oversimplified. 

A two-dimensional approach ignores the reality of nuance.

A two-dimensional approach puts others in an unfair, inaccurate box.

“Pick a side, any side!” we’ve heard people say.

But in a three-dimensional world, that simply doesn’t make sense.

Respectfully…

AR

Lately I’ve been pondering the prudence of the Overton Window — not necessarily its existence, but rather, how the boundaries and framing are established. Follow me here.

The Overton Window is the span of public policy that is considered acceptable at any given moment in time. It was a model established by the late Joseph P. Overton, former senior VP of the Mackinac Center for Public Policy. Writes the Center:

“Ever wonder how politicians choose which policies they’ll support? Or have you ever noticed that a politician championing one policy idea can win an election in one country, but at the same time no politician in your country will support that same policy? The Overton Window of Political Possibility can help explain these phenomena…

The core concept is that politicians are limited in what policy ideas they can support — they generally only pursue policies that are widely accepted throughout society as legitimate policy options. These policies lie inside the Overton Window. Other policy ideas exist, but politicians risk losing popular support if they champion these ideas. These policies lie outside the Overton Window…

The Overton Window doesn’t describe everything about how politics works, but it does describe one key thing: Politicians will not support whatever policy they choose whenever they choose; rather, they will only espouse policies that they believe do not hurt their electoral chances. And the range of policy options available to a politician are shaped by ideas, social movements and shared norms and values within society.

All of this suggests that politicians are more followers than they are leaders — it’s the rest of us who ultimately determine the types of policies they’ll get behind. It also implies that our social institutions — families, workplaces, friends, media, churches, voluntary associations, think tanks, schools, charities, and many other phenomena that establish and reinforce societal norms — are more important to shaping our politics than we typically credit them for.”

It’s a fascinating concept — probably one the political science enthusiasts eat up. It explains why a concept perceived to be radical or ludicrous years ago can be boldly advocated for now, especially when those radical voices are very loud.

But I’ve landed here today more because of a phenomenon extracted from those voices that I can’t quite comprehend. And if I’m honest, I also don’t believe it’s wise, healthy, and good.

In multiple avenues and arenas, seemingly intelligent persons are attempting to determine the types of policies the politicians will get behind by encouraging the cutting off, rooting out, and extinction of relationship with anyone who thinks differently.

They are encouraging increased ideological isolation. And thus, increased intolerance.

Fast and furious, fueled by partisan news, we are witnessing the argument for intolerance, “cancel culture,” and how the Overton Window should be framed.

Writes Julie Mastrine, the Director of Marketing for Intramuralist fave, AllSides, in an editorial last week:

“The problem is that people are increasingly rationalizing targeting those they disagree with… Many fervently believe that the people who oppose them are on the side of evil, and they are on the side of good. This is the danger of not understanding the other side.”

So much of our intolerance (the cutting off, rooting out, and extinction of relationship based on disagreement) is based on a lack of working intently to understand another. It is radical and ludicrous to suggest, for example, that absolutely everyone who voted for one presidential candidate or the other is _________ (insert choice negative adjective here). That’s not evidence of logic nor good sense. That’s more evidence of intolerance.

Back to Mastrine… 

“Examining the other side’s views requires honestly examining our own, and admitting when we ourselves may be wrong. Most would rather not do this. The other side — those they seek to ‘hold accountable’ via extreme measures — might actually have some valid points, or a more complex worldview than is being presented by one-sided media outlets. But instead of conducting an honest inquiry into the other side, some in our modern society shun them, ‘name and shame’ them, fire them, or put them on lists for targeting when their party gets into power.”  

Examining the other side… honestly examining our own… admitting where we may wrong… acknowledging where we may be intolerant.

Now that sounds wise, healthy, and good… and a step toward respectful dialogue. 

Respectfully…

AR

Now that we’ve had some time to take a breath and reflect upon the month of November — arguably the climax of this thing we keep calling “2020” — come. Let’s reason together as to what we learned as a nation…

First… Near 150 million persons exercised their right to vote. How encouraging that so many persons cared about the election! The numbers are fascinating… former Vice Pres. Joe Biden won a record low 17% of the nation’s counties but still received more votes than any presidential candidate in history. Pres. Donald Trump significantly increased his share of votes from black and brown communities and received more votes than any incumbent in history, albeit still in an assumed losing effort. 

Second… Love him or hate him or somewhere in the very vast, murky middle, Pres. Trump is a polarizing figure. “Polarizing” equates to two sharply contrasting sides, sides which can be understandably passionate. No doubt sometimes that passion on each side has evolved into a license for dishonor. Dishonor is never virtuous nor attractive.

Next… I struggle with charges of an election not being free and fair. As always, feel free to disagree. But from where I sit (which determines where I stand), it’s 100% clear that my perspective is limited; in fact, I am actually incapable of having a perfected viewpoint. I am also certain, with all due respect, that no 9 p.m. cable opinion host will help me get there.

Were mistakes made? Probably. Were there irregularities? Certainly. Is that enough to overturn the results? Highly doubtful. And one more thing… I’ve noticed in recent years that our individual belief in regard to whether an election was free and fair typically depends on who won.

Next… The pre-election polling was wrong. Now I am no pollster or political scholar. I am merely a current events observer and only a semi-humble one at that. But the closeness of this election was no surprise, as it had become clear in recent years that if a Trump fan shared their adoration publicly, they were subject to shame. Such a backdrop provides minimal motive to be transparent with the inquiry of even a pollster.

Next… While this election seems a repudiation of Pres. Trump, it also seems not an embracement of Democrats. Most presidential victors prompt down ballot support, meaning accompanying their win is the simultaneous victory from persons of the same party in races of lesser prominence. But that didn’t happen this year. Democrats surprisingly lost multiple seats in the House, split the Senate, and no state legislative body changed parties. Opined Nichole Remmert, campaign manager for Emily Skopov, a Democratic hopeful from the Pittsburgh suburbs who lost, “There’s a significant difference between a referendum on a clown show, which is what we had at the top of the ticket, and embracing the values of the Democratic ticket. People bought into Joe Biden to stop the insanity in the White House. They did not suddenly become Democrats.” In other words, while this election was a rebuke of Pres. Trump, it was not a rebuke of Republicans nor evidence of a country wishing to become more politically progressive.

A few added thoughts… This election shed light on the “unholy alliance” — an aspect, in fact, we may soon discuss more in another post, as I’ve toyed with it often. There were radical groups and thinkers who aligned with one party or the other, of whom partisans seemed at least semi-silent because they liked the way they vote. These groups did not speak for either entire party… like anarchists, Marxists, neo-Nazis, socialists, racists, etc… like those who demand to “defund the police” or those who crave endless more years of a President Trump. Friends, tough but sincere question… how is each of our semi-silence supporting the radical? Remember: the middle is vast. The middle is murky. But those in the middle would be wise to quit fueling the fringe.

A word on unity… Two weeks ago we posted a piece entitled “How Do We Heal.” It was a conversation about moving forward, wisely and well together. I would have written that post no matter who won the election. But one observation from the election of 2020 is that many have much riding on who wins. Friends, let me not invalidate your thought. But I will say this… where my peace comes from, where my hope comes from, and how I treat my brother and sister has zero to do with who’s in the White House. I believe we were made for more.

I also think it’s key we remember that however one voted, assuming they voted for one or the other presidential candidate, 70-some million people voted differently. That’s not cause to be puffed up. That’s not validation to go out and now demand the other think like us. That’s more a call to strive harder to understand those 70-some.

Hence, lastly… Just like every year, we took time to pause and give thanks at the end of the month. There’s something sweet about that — something humbling, something that takes the focus off of self, and something that seeks out the greater good. This year, in this thing we keep calling “2020,” may Thanksgiving not be that only day of the year. Let us give thanks, as we continue to learn how to do life well together.

Respectfully…

AR

Several years ago, the New York Times published a rather creative vocabulary quiz — 25 questions, multiple choice, all about word usage and pronunciation. 

Among the questions:

“How do you pronounce the second syllable of pajamas?”

“Do you pronounce cot and caught the same?”

“What do you call the rubber-soled shoes worn in gym class or for athletic activities?”

Based on one’s answers to those 25 Q’s, the quiz projects the probability of where one is from, as different words and dialects are used in different parts of the country.

While certainly not indicative of any one geographical location, when we moved from Cincinnati to Orlando 3½ years ago, there was one word and phrase I found for some reason, far more used in the South…

Grateful…

I am grateful for you.

I found myself soon doing life with a group of wise people who consistently take time out to utter those exact words.

As we contemplate Thanksgiving this week — a day in which our country expresses gratitude for divine provision and protection — my simple desire is to focus on what being grateful actually entails. 

To be grateful means we are thankful. We are aware of our blessing and appreciate what another has done. It’s an affirmation of goodness.

In fact, one of the most beautiful, profound aspects of this virtue is when we are grateful, we can’t be something else… as it’s really hard to be grateful and bitter or bad-tempered or insolent or insulting or hostile or hateful or stingy or selfish or divisive or denigrating at the same time.

But the key with gratitude is that it’s only realized if it’s expressed.

As the influential Andy Stanley poignantly shares, “Unexpressed gratitude is experienced as ingratitude.”

The person on the receiving end of us can’t see our gratitude unless we say it, friends. 

In other words, if we don’t convey our gratitude, if we don’t actually speak it — or if for some reason we even intentionally withhold it, believing another is undeserving, unworthy or un-something — we are communicating ingratitude instead.

And ingratitude is hurtful, unattractive, and has never been confused with being any sort of virtue.

So as we pause during the pandemic for this special, national holiday — noting our feasts and family gatherings have been altered in this thing we keep calling “2020” — the reality is that not even 2020 has the ability to extinguish our gratitude. Gratitude is always an option. Hence…

Who are you grateful for?

Who have you yet to tell?

To whom do you owe a verbal affirmation?

This Thanksgiving, I pray we are each more humbly self aware. Let’s turn up gratitude. Let’s be ridiculously grateful…

… no matter where we are from… no matter the different words and dialects used…

Happy Thanksgiving, friends! I am grateful for you!

Joyfully…

AR

(P.S. The second syllable of pajamas rhymes with “jam,” cot and caught are not pronounced the same, and my rubber-soled shoes that I joyfully wear daily are indeed called “tennis shoes.” 🙂 )

Sometimes I’m the one who says the wrong thing.

Sometimes I’m the one who has refused to give generous grace.

Sometimes I’m the one who has ranted and raved.

Sometimes I’m the one who has ignored the political hypocrisy because I like how that person votes.

Sometimes I’m the one who has acted as if it was ok to shout the dissenter down.

Sometimes I’m the one who has muted or snoozed the other.

Sometimes I’m the one who has acted like I know all the facts and the other clearly does not.

Sometimes I’m the one who has hung up.

Sometimes I’m the one who has justified insult.

Sometimes I’m the one who has watched only CNN, FOX News, or MSNBC and believed myself to have a comprehensive, accurate perspective.

Sometimes I’m the one who has allowed my friends to chastise my other friends on social media.

Sometimes I’m the one who has looked down on another.

Sometimes I’m the one who has responded with a “gotcha/mic drop” retort, thereby essentially refusing to converse wisely.

Sometimes I’m the one who has made excuses for the unscrupulous extremes who have attached themselves to my preferred party.

Sometimes I’m the one who has been unknowingly fooled by the opinion disguised as news.

Sometimes I’m the one who has determined the other isn’t worth listening to.

Sometimes I’m the one who has forgotten that even a stopped clock is right twice a day.

Sometimes I’m the one who has been pompous and rude. 

Sometimes I’m the one who has rejected giving extended, ongoing thought to the other side.

Sometimes I’m the one who thinks another has way more to learn than me.

And thus…

Sometimes I’m also the one in need of forgiveness.

Sometimes I’m also the one who needs to say I’m sorry.

Sometimes I’m also the one who needs to recognize that loving my neighbor, brother, sister, etc. doesn’t allow for me to be selective.

Sometimes I’m also the one who needs to recognize that respectful dialogue doesn’t depend on the subject.

And sometimes — no, always — I’m also the one who has more to learn…

No doubt each of us are one.

Respectfully…

AR

Allow me to begin with a deeply personal, but profoundly relevant account…

19 years ago I gave birth to one of the most amazing human beings ever. To be clear, every human is amazing — each divinely wired in their own wonderful way. But part of what makes one very talented, young master Joshua amazing is because of what God taught me… what I learned was nothing short of amazing.

When giving birth to a child with a disability — and let me not speak for all parents, but for me — it was a bit of a reality sucker punch. Maybe some handle it better than I. I never planned to be the parent of a child with special needs, and I certainly didn’t pray for it. Something totally unwanted and unexpected, however, became my instant, jarring reality; there was nothing I could do. The situation was totally out of my control. And let’s face it; most of us don’t do very well when the facade that we could actually somehow be in control is completely burst. What in the world was I to do now?

I needed help.

I needed help and encouragement and certainly wise counsel.

I needed people to walk alongside me, encourage God’s best, help my family somehow navigate through this newly unplanned life in a positive way. I still somehow had to raise this kid — not to mention the two who went before him. I needed to be at least a semi-healthy, functioning adult. Hence, I needed wisdom. I needed community. I needed far more than me.

Since only, approximately 1 in every 700 babies in the U.S is born with Down syndrome — which equates to about 6,000 infants annually — suffice it to say that not many in my inner circle shared my specific circumstance.

Undoubtedly, there is something beautifully relational embedded within shared circumstance… for example…

… I can always immediately connect with boy moms… there exist jokes, dirty socks, and creative other foul-smelling aromas in our houses where minimal context is necessary in order for the other to understand…

… It’s always a joy to meet up with another Purdue grad… we are annually eager for March Madness, can relate to any dreary cold thanks to those windy winter days in West Lafayette, and we ached, too, when Drew Brees broke multiple ribs last weekend… we feel so much of the same…

… And I currently have a whole new heart for those who have moved away from home… there’s this “thing” we just know about each other, how you love to go back because you love the people you left, but sometimes it’s hard because you know you will disappoint them with less time available… fellow movers immediately get me…

No doubt shared circumstance is a gift. It provides context, similar emotion, and often, perceived close-to-immediate understanding. We thus don’t have to take the time to share any context, tap into varied emotion, or work to “get” another. Makes total sense.

However, I think the challenge in current day culture and why I believe this account to be profoundly relevant, is because we have been lured into believing not just that it takes more time if another does not share our specific circumstances. Rather, we have fallen prey to the fallacy that unless we share those circumstances, the other person is incapable of understanding us. That’s the fragility of finding our worth and forming our life philosophies based on the social groups we belong to. 

I do not dismiss that it can be hard. I also grant great grace and space, recognizing the valid, deep sensitivity necessary in various circumstances… what it’s like to be a single parent… what it’s like to lose a child… what’s it like to have been oppressed because of the color of my skin… or what it’s like to not know where my next meal is coming from.

But I refuse to believe that we are incapable of understanding. I refuse to dismiss that deep empathy can be built… if we are humble enough… patient enough… to invest that time and attention… to sincerely engage with those who are different… to quit drawing lines in the sand because the work is more and the effort is harder.

Friends, my sincere belief is we are too dismissive of too many people.

With the estimate that only approximately 220,000 living persons in this country have Down syndrome — meaning an infinitesimal 0.06% of the country — if young master Josh grows up believing only persons who share his specific circumstance are capable of relating to him, I’m not sure we will have raised a semi-healthy, functioning adult. He will need wisdom. He will need community. He will need such from far more than me.

Respectfully…

AR

Seriously. After all that — in the middle of an ongoing, uncertain pandemic — how do we heal?

This is not solely some sweet-sounding, gentle Intramuralist encouragement. It’s also not written simply because Nov. 3rd has passed. With Joe Biden looking to have secured the Presidency, Democrats losing significant seats in the House, and the Senate to be fairly evenly split, there is no party mandate; there is only a divided people living together in a nation in need of healing.

Note the recent, combined words of Biden, Bush, and Obama…

“Let’s give each other a chance… We must come together… Reach out beyond our comfort zone… listen to others… lower the temperature and find some common ground from which to move forward, all of us remembering that we are one nation, under God…”

Hence, we ask again: how do we heal? … even in continued uncertainty?

Allow me to respectfully submit it’s by becoming authentic conduits of humility.

(Note that I didn’t say it’s by (a) fighting harder, (b) convincing myself I see all rightly, (c) convincing myself there is nothing good in another person or party, nor (d) all of the above. Just want to be clear.)

So to become an authentic conduit of humility — first some definitions, albeit in reverse order:

humility | (h)yo͞oˈmilədē |  n. – a modest or low view of one’s own importance; humbleness.

Humility means we keep life in perspective. Better yet, we keep self in perspective. That means we never fall prey to an inflated sense of self — adopting the lie that we’ve got life, politics, or whatever all figured out and only another has something significant to learn. It means we don’t look down on other people… especially on the 75 million people who voted differently than we.

“What do I not understand? What can the person who thinks differently teach me?” … Humility means we care enough to assertively pursue those questions. And sit still with, soberly pondering the answers.

conduit | ˈkänˌd(y)o͞oət |  n. – a person or organization that acts as a channel for the transmission of something.

A conduit means something flows through us. To be clear, something is always flowing through us; we are active participants in this coming together or not. Will we come together for good? Give others a chance? Reach out to those who experience the world differently daily?

Know that everyone has opportunity to be a vessel through which virtue flows. Unfortunately, no less, many will choose to use their role to encourage vengeance, antipathy, or increased cancel culture. Let us be people through which all blessings flow. To be clear once more, vengeance, antipathy and cancel culture are never confused with any sort of blessing.

authentic | ôˈTHen(t)ik |  adj. – of undisputed origin; genuine.

What a wonderful word is “authenticity”! That means we are who we say we are and we do what we say we do. Our integrity is not in question.

Does “authentic” mean we are perfect? Of course not. Until one of us walks on water this side of eternity, I’d say we each contribute our fair share of error, encouraging disrespect and dishonor of someone. But our authenticity shows we are genuine in our efforts. We are committed to heal.

Humility heals.

What’s the opposite of to heal?

To worsen. Split open. Divide.

What’s the opposite of humility?

Pride.

“Pride divides, but humility heals.”

So how do we heal and not further divide?

By becoming authentic conduits of humility.

Let us each not allow any person, party, or someone who wants our money or our vote lure us imprudently otherwise.

Respectfully…

AR