Brave, Anyway

Tag: politics

  • Unpopular

    Unpopular

    I find myself biting my tongue, while screaming at the top of my lungs internally, all the time. It’s just too much right now. All of America, that is – on social media, in the grocery store, in the drop-off line at elementary schools, at school board meetings, everywhere in our government, and with media coverage of any and all things. It’s all just too much.

    Absolutely everything is polarized and political. People on all parts of the spectrum really need to consult a dictionary about the definitions of opinion and fact, and people on all parts of the spectrum just cannot seem to communicate anymore without some crazy drama.

    Maybe this is a side effect of covid and quarantine – we’ve spent so much time isolated and in our own heads that when confronted with people again we’re either an excited puppy who can’t calm down or a selfish human who’s found an audience. What has happened to social discourse? To letting the person who only has one item go in front of you in the checkout? To kindness and to humanity and to respecting others? Why can’t we admit that someone from our political party isn’t doing a good job, or behaved badly?

    And where are all the voices in the middle? The people who aren’t “black and white” absolutes on everything and who can see the validity of some points from both “sides?” The people who have feelings that are complicated because of their life experience. Maybe one of the casualties of quarantine is that the voices of the middle are silent, largely because they’re just exhausted.

    I keep a note in my phone where I sometimes write down things I want to say but hold back. I also have email drafts I’ll never hit send on. Sometimes it’s helpful to just get those thoughts out, to put them somewhere, so the moment can pass more quickly. Thoughts that are unpopular, and it just isn’t worth the energy (or I know the lady also shopping for apples doesn’t care what I think about her “facts” about why the shelves are empty).

    -I completely respect that you don’t want to wear a mask. But in order for us to peacefully coexist you need to not stand one foot behind me in line. You need to respect people’s personal space at all times, even if we’re not in a pandemic and whether or not they wear a mask. And if you see others wearing a mask the good-human thing to do is give them even more space, making the positive assumption that they or someone in their life is at risk in ways you do not understand.

    -Thank you for your feedback on how little we can actually trust doctors, but I cannot believe that the pediatricians and oncologists and surgeons and cardiologists who went to so much effort to save my daughter’s life would then be so awful as to recommend that she get a vaccine that they secretly know could kill her. Maybe you need to check yourself, and also please post a screenshot of your high school report card so we know with certainty how much of a genius we’re actually working with here.

    -Who cares about Tom Brady?! Every time I see him, I think of Ross Gellar and his glow-in-the-dark teeth.

    This is my opinion. I know nothing about football.

    -I believe that masks should be worn in schools right now, but I understand your concerns about how they might be impacting kids. I have a child who’s a cancer survivor, and I know I worry more about her than I probably should. That child is also in speech therapy and she and many others need to see faces. I can want kids to wear masks right now and at the same time believe that they aren’t great long-term. This does not make me a snowflake. I actually agree with some of what you are saying, which you’d know if you shut up for even three seconds.

    -More than any other reason, I want the pandemic to be over so my girls can live more care-freely and so they get to experience all the things. I want them to go to dances and games and plays and concerts. I want kids I don’t even know to show up at my house and want to play with the girls and stay up all night watching movies and goofing off. If your child isn’t wearing a mask and isn’t vaccinated, I do not want my children to sit next to yours. I love you and your kids and I respect your right to make choices, but you are a risk to people we love. All of these things can be my true feelings at the same time.

    -Cheers is not even close to being the greatest sitcom of all time. You could *maybe* make an argument for Frasier, but just stop it with that ridiculousness.

    -Some of you are so worked up about critical race theory and you want to ban books because you have no idea why you actually think what you do and/or you cannot have hard conversations with your kids. You have nothing to fear from kids being exposed to historical facts or other ideas if you have a leg to stand on with your own beliefs or arguments. I will sit down with my girls any day of the week and talk to them about abortion, slavery, tenets of other religions, or gun control. They might one day think differently than me and that is not something to be afraid of. We should be raising children to think critically, not to be mini-mes – and they can’t do that if they are not exposed to the good the bad and the ugly of all things.

    -Every legislator and voter needs to spend one week sitting and watching in a pharmacy as parents and the elderly and people from all age groups and walks of life hear the cost of their medicine and then have to make a decision about whether or not to purchase that prescription.

    -Youngkin’s implementation of an email address where people can report teachers for talking about race or divisive topics reminds me of text written about the Gestapo. “Some citizens passed on information about their neighbors, family, and friends…The information passed on by informants typically accused someone of breaking the law or of being a criminal in some way. The information provided was not always based on fact and could often be rumor or suspicion…Informers had various motives including antisemitism, racism, a strong belief in Nazi ideology and governance, fear, personal gain, professional gain, and personal disagreements (e.g. informing the Gestapo that someone was a communist in response to a personal dislike or argument with that person). Most informers were aware of the consequences of their actions.” What are we afraid of parents? Is it that our children will see ugliness, or more so that they will see ugliness in us?

    Every news outlet and pundit tells us that the issue, whatever it is, is clear and it’s very black and white. But that’s a lie. There is so much gray in the world, and it’s in the middle. It’s in the people with complicated and even conflicting emotions and stances. It’s in millions of people who have processed information and life experiences into much more than the simplicity of black and white. It’s unpopular, but I think the genius is in the gray and the empathy is in the gray and the humanity is in the gray and the love is in the gray. The truth is in the gray.

    “Middle gray” is the center tone between absolute back and absolute white.

  • America the Great

    America the Great

    In the last week I have watched two documentary series about 9/11, and the thing that sticks in my mind above all else is how much we’re capable of coming together. Of helping people, while not even thinking about differences. We can just be good humans and good neighbors.

    If we could just figure out how to do that outside of a tragedy or a war, we might truly be great.

  • It’s All Of Us, Too

    It’s All Of Us, Too

    It’s complicated.

    How I feel about Biden and Afghanistan and the world is complicated.

    Biden really screwed up.

    Why are we still even in a country that we invaded because we wanted Bin Laden? We got him a decade ago. No answer anyone gives me will suffice because the truth is – outside of heated moments just after 9/11 when I really wanted retribution – I have always kind-of been an isolationist, against our country’s crusade-ish tendencies and angered by the thought that young men and women go off to fight in wars that aren’t ever about what politicians say they are about. I support our troops 100 percent. The people who get to send them out to do their bidding? Not so much.

    Every president in my lifetime, maybe every president ever, has blood on their hands. The blood of 13 soldiers and hundreds of Afghans this week, the blood in Beirut in the 1980s, and the blood of the people living under the Shah we put back in power in the 1960s, and the blood of Kansans during their own civil war in the 1850s, and even the blood of a half a million U.S. citizens who’ve died from a virus we lied about and didn’t protect people from.

    It’s easy to play Monday morning quarterback. I don’t have all the information and I’ve never had to make decisions of such magnitude, but it just seems like we could have done some things differently. I don’t think we could have pulled such a large number of people out of any turmoil-filled country without casualties, but that doesn’t make what happened this week feel like less of a fail. Colin Powell quoted No battle plan survives contact with the enemy and perhaps that’s why we’re here today – failure to accurately predict and plan for all possible outcomes.

    It’s heartbreaking, learning the stories of these soldiers – kids really – who were in a land very far away, helping to save the lives of strangers and trying to protect themselves and their comrades. It was all the more poignant for me this week because we were traveling around DC seeing federal buildings and museums, monuments and memorials. I was in my element – a history buff talking about the accomplishments or inventions of great Americans, some well-known and some unknown, in ways that I hoped would be interesting at 16 and 10. But as I looked down the wall of names etched in granite at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, it struck me that those were the names of my Dad’s comrades. And that he was a young soldier once, in a land very far away.

    “All of these people died?” Ella said. Yes, tens of thousands of people. It was a long war and it was the first televised war, where the American people had a small glimpse into what happens when they send their sons off to war. There was a lot of conflict about whether or not we should stay the course but one of the lessons I hope we learned is that it doesn’t matter whether or not we agree with the decisions of our leaders, we must always always always support the young people they send out into the world – who dedicate years of their lives to serving our country and our people, and who are committed to freedom for people everywhere.

    The girls at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.

    Just like everyone else on social media, I know pretty much nothing about what really happened this week and all the factors that led us to this point. And yet still I can’t shake the feeling that we could have done better. Maybe I’m all up in my feelings, but Biden really screwed up this exit. I won’t defend someone I voted for simply because I don’t want to admit that my candidate isn’t perfect or I was wrong. Our votes are complicated, or at least mine sometimes are. The truth is I’d vote for Biden again, given the same choices – my vote was for health care and against a man who abuses women. But I don’t feel good about it today.

    As I stood at the wall staring at tens of thousands of names, I said a quick prayer for all the people who loved them. Their lives were forever changed – because of the decisions of politicians, because of evil in the world, and even because of the ballots cast by voters. I believe all of us will one day be accountable for our votes (or lack of participation in that regard), and I feel that responsibility today. It’s not just presidents who have blood on their hands – it’s all of us, too.

    Help us, O God, to remember that we are Americans, united not by race, or religion, or blood, but to our commitment to freedom and justice for all. When we focus on ourselves, when we fight each other, when we forget you: Forgive us. When we presume that our greatness and our prosperity is ours alone: Forgive us. When we fail to treat our fellow human beings and all the earth with the respect that they deserve: Forgive us. And as we face these difficult days ahead, may we have a new birth of clarity in our aims, responsibility in our actions, humility in our approaches, and civility in our attitudes, even when we differ. Help us to share, to serve, and to seek the common good of all. May all people of goodwill today join together to work for a more just, a more healthy, and a more prosperous nation and a peaceful planet. And may we never forget that one day all nations, and all people, will stand accountable before you. ~ Rick Warren, 2009

  • Ugly Truths

    I’m so tired of left and right finger-pointing. I’m tired of “but you guys” did this or that. Or statements that include the words “both sides.” I’m done with this week’s responses like “criticizing the Capitol participants is hypocritical of you.” Or “you didn’t condemn the violence at Black Lives Matters protests last summer.” Actually I did. Lots of people did. And the other truth is that those BLM events were largely peaceful. And you know what else? The two things are not equivalent and cannot be compared.

    BLM is protesting the actions of people and a society in which many, many people will not admit that some of their actions or the actions of others have been wrong and racist. We don’t promote, punish, show grace, forgive, pay, support, offer trust, or treat all people the same way. Everyone who is white who reads this is guilty of some sort of bias. Our job as good humans is to call ourselves and others out when those biases come up. But we largely don’t do that, either because we benefit from the bias, we don’t want to make waves, or because we want to protect people we love or work with. One of the main purposes of BLM is to simply get people to see the inequities in our society so that we can do something about them.

    What happened at the Capitol was some people showed up to protest and some people showed up for an insurrection, to disrupt the will of the majority of voters in this country and our election process. That event was the result of 3 things: (1) people falling for blatant and easily disproven lies, (2) people blindly following a lying leader, and (3) a group of people who truly and very honestly admit they are white supremacists, and proud of it, and want the world to be led by people who are not any color but white and not any faith but Christian (although they clearly haven’t read the whole Bible).

    Supporting BLM is not a Republican or Democrat thing. It is not an act of the left or of socialists or liberals. It’s an act of humanity. It’s a realization that some people and processes and things need to be fixed. And it should be a movement that all people can get behind, especially Christians.

    For God so loved the world.

    We were all knitted together in our mother’s wombs.

    There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for we are all one in Christ Jesus.

    Christ is in all.

    As he has loved us we are called to love one another.

    We shall love our neighbor as ourselves.

    God sees our hearts, not their skin-covering. It’s our job to see how we’re behaving as it relates to skin and our sin as it relates to skin, and then to do better.

    A powerful reminder, from the Facebook page of my very smart friend Michelle.

    My heart is heavy for my country. My heart is heavy for the family of the officer that was brutally dragged into a crowd at the Capitol and then beaten with clubs and flagpoles and crutches. My heart is heavy for the blood we all have our hands because we refuse to acknowledge, let alone try to fix, the corrupt and racist systems we have in place. My heart is heavy as I listen to the pain in the voices of people of color who are tired of a lifetime of judgment and explaining and unease. My heart is heavy that we elected this four years ago, and that it will take lifetimes to repair the damage of that choice.

    We can’t just undo policy with the next administration and think things will get better. Because people can’t just un-know the support of such evil. And the reality is that lots of folks separate their vote from the crazies who did that at the Capitol and the one day when things got out of hand. How do you get people to see that a vote empowered racism, especially when no one wants to admit that while they may believe they aren’t prejudiced or biased or a racist, they are?

    Ideas all of us have about how people not like us will behave and whether or not we can trust them and about intentions, beliefs, intelligence, faith, and on and on are deeply rooted in all of us. Maybe the first step in healing is just getting us all to admit that. To speak and realize the truth in these awful words: I am a sometimes prejudiced. I am sometimes biased. I have supported racist people and behaviors. They are very ugly truths, but anything less than those statements is a lie.

  • Lingering Disappointment

    Lingering Disappointment

    You should never ever tell me how you voted. This is the conclusion I’ve come to. In order for us to coexist peacefully or for me to not be disappointed in you, I cannot know that you voted for a candidate who would not support my daughter. I cannot know that you voted against my daughter.

    I logically know that no one voted against Audrey. In fact, I’m one hundred percent positive that she never crossed your mind as you voted. And yet, she’s one of the two most important people in my life, so I cannot do anything – especially vote – without her at the forefront of my mind.

    As a cancer survivor, it’s incredibly important that Audrey always have health care. I’m a believer that health care is important and necessary for all people, but it’s truly critical that those among us who have battled or who are battling serious diseases or conditions receive care from childhood into adulthood. That means the parents of the most vulnerable need access to affordable health care and coverage, and that those kids who are the most vulnerable have access to affordable care and coverage as they move into adulthood.

    Maybe Audrey will be waiting tables when she’s 26, trying to finish grad school or medical school or law school. Maybe she’ll be an artist or a missionary or fixing cars. Whatever she wants to do, whatever she’s called to do, she will need access to health care. Which means she likely needs to be a cube dweller (and maybe not focusing on her calling), working in a job that doesn’t need advanced education, or she needs some form of the ACA to be in place.

    I want my child to have the same access to health care as anyone else’s child. Not only is she deserving of that as a human being, she fought very hard for life.

    So we can disagree on things like the second amendment, climate change measures, and taxes – but we cannot disagree on health care without me harboring a grudge against you and wondering if you really care about Audrey. Because no matter why you cast a vote for a candidate, I see your vote against Audrey.

    And maybe that’s not fair and maybe it’s mean. But it’s how I feel, and it feels good to give it a voice. I am longing for the day that America is a country where health care is not a partisan issue. Because sometimes I feel like West Virginia in the 1860s.

    How It Started and How It’s Going