I absolutely hate political ads. They are usually nasty, formulaic, contradictory. Each will point out that candidate X is a lying, untrustworthy person who will destroy the very fabric of society. Candidate Y, however, will fix everything, if only I cast my vote their way. Switch candidates and repeat, repeat, repeat. Eventually they are recognizable by the tone of voice. My husband and I race for the remote to mute them, even when we agree with them.
We cast our ballots and awaited the outcomes with bated breath – with some cheers, some groans. Now, after days of counting, we have a new president. But the honest truth is that we are going to remain heavily divided.
Elections do not mute political animosity. We, the people, save our democracy when we reconnect at the personal level. Some people we see the most often may be the most at odds with us – neighbors, fellow worshipers, soccer parents, our own family.
How do I reach out to someone whose beliefs are diametrically opposed to my own? How do I retain my convictions while connecting?
Some want discussion to stop so life can return to normal. Normal means status quo. It means, “let me have my life back the way it was before.” If your life is one of generational wealth, privilege, economic opportunity, relatively good health, and all the freedoms and happiness those imply, that might be fine for you and others just like you.
The concept of democracy is based on the promise of freedom, rights and justice for all. We know that is absolutely not the case for everyone in the United States. Many are denied justice, generational wealth, quality education, medical care, housing and freedom. They are not afforded these due to skin color, place of birth, gender, gender identity, physical or mental condition. Simply returning to normal means abandoning them. And that is not acceptable.
Most of my life, I’ve been surrounded by the Appalachian Mountains. They are a fixed part of my horizon. They represent strength and stability, born of the Earth’s crust, pushed and shaped by circumstances beyond their control. They stand the test of time, largely immutable. I envision my convictions as mountains. Here are my places of strength from which I reach out to others.
My mountains are antiracism, affordable healthcare and justice for all. My beliefs are based on the notion that when any of us is marginalized, we all are. These concepts bolster what I do, what I study, how I spend my money and how I cast my votes. It is essential to me to entice others to those mountains if I want to see those changes.
This requires moving out of my comfort zone to find others equally willing to act in good faith. Trust and respect allow us to hear one another. Otherwise, our words bounce off the walls between us. A level of transparency can give us authentic points of connection. Difficult conversations ensue as we as ask people to talk about their mountains and why they chose those mountains. We then truly listen to their answers, trying to understand. And we, ourselves, participate in moments of true reflection to talk about our own mountains.
Some people are simply tourists, wandering the terrain of their own lives not having chosen to stand on any mountains. A few have been enticed into a course of action that they may not actually want, but are unsure of their options. And others are perfectly content with their mountains, but are at least willing to discuss them.
Some groups of people have been speaking for decades, and we have not been listening at all. We can uncenter ourselves and pay attention to what they are saying. We are responsible to educate ourselves, reaching out only as we are better informed and cause no further harm.
In reaching out, I can plant seeds of understanding which perhaps are brought to fruition by others. Some may never come to a place of compassion or comprehension. There are more people out there who want to make this democracy work than those who do not. They just might be a bit overwhelmed at the moment and swept along in the current, trying to find a firm footing once again.
We, the people, cast our votes. And now we must take ownership of our democracy.
I absolutely hate political ads. They are usually nasty, formulaic, contradictory. Each will point out that candidate X is a lying, untrustworthy person who will destroy the very fabric of society. Candidate Y, however, will fix everything, if only I cast my vote their way. Switch candidates and repeat, repeat, repeat. Eventually they are recognizable by the tone of voice. My husband and I race for the remote to mute them, even when we agree with them.
We cast our ballots and awaited the outcomes with bated breath – with some cheers, some groans. Now, after days of counting, we have a new president. But the honest truth is that we are going to remain heavily divided.
Elections do not mute political animosity. We, the people, save our democracy when we reconnect at the personal level. Some people we see the most often may be the most at odds with us – neighbors, fellow worshipers, soccer parents, our own family.
How do I reach out to someone whose beliefs are diametrically opposed to my own? How do I retain my convictions while connecting?
Some want discussion to stop so life can return to normal. Normal means status quo. It means, “let me have my life back the way it was before.” If your life is one of generational wealth, privilege, economic opportunity, relatively good health, and all the freedoms and happiness those imply, that might be fine for you and others just like you.
The concept of democracy is based on the promise of freedom, rights and justice for all. We know that is absolutely not the case for everyone in the United States. Many are denied justice, generational wealth, quality education, medical care, housing and freedom. They are not afforded these due to skin color, place of birth, gender, gender identity, physical or mental condition. Simply returning to normal means abandoning them. And that is not acceptable.
Most of my life, I’ve been surrounded by the Appalachian Mountains. They are a fixed part of my horizon. They represent strength and stability, born of the Earth’s crust, pushed and shaped by circumstances beyond their control. They stand the test of time, largely immutable. I envision my convictions as mountains. Here are my places of strength from which I reach out to others.
My mountains are antiracism, affordable healthcare and justice for all. My beliefs are based on the notion that when any of us is marginalized, we all are. These concepts bolster what I do, what I study, how I spend my money and how I cast my votes. It is essential to me to entice others to those mountains if I want to see those changes.
This requires moving out of my comfort zone to find others equally willing to act in good faith. Trust and respect allow us to hear one another. Otherwise, our words bounce off the walls between us. A level of transparency can give us authentic points of connection. Difficult conversations ensue as we as ask people to talk about their mountains and why they chose those mountains. We then truly listen to their answers, trying to understand. And we, ourselves, participate in moments of true reflection to talk about our own mountains.
Some people are simply tourists, wandering the terrain of their own lives not having chosen to stand on any mountains. A few have been enticed into a course of action that they may not actually want, but are unsure of their options. And others are perfectly content with their mountains, but are at least willing to discuss them.
Some groups of people have been speaking for decades, and we have not been listening at all. We can uncenter ourselves and pay attention to what they are saying. We are responsible to educate ourselves, reaching out only as we are better informed and cause no further harm.
In reaching out, I can plant seeds of understanding which perhaps are brought to fruition by others. Some may never come to a place of compassion or comprehension. There are more people out there who want to make this democracy work than those who do not. They just might be a bit overwhelmed at the moment and swept along in the current, trying to find a firm footing once again.
We, the people, cast our votes. And now we must take ownership of our democracy.
Susan Bro works as an advocate for positive social change through the Heather Heyer Foundation and hate crime legislation