A Reminder
A reminder: more than one thing can be true, I am not perfect, and neither were my idols.
In the midst of our culture war, it can be quite seductive to draw lines in the proverbial sand, to shore up the foundation of one’s principals with faith and belief in one’s absolute righteousness, to drape oneself in a flag of a certain color, to designate an enemy, to identify the us so we can be against them.
An example: I keep my business open in defiance of public health orders to feed my family, and I believe that to be good. You want to shut me down because you think I am abetting the spread of Covid-19, so I believe you to be bad. I wear a mask to keep my respiratory droplets in check, so I think I am therefore good. You do not wear a mask, though you are not at a mathematically realistic proximity to be transmissible, but I cannot tell that because I’m looking at a two dimensional photograph of a three dimensional space which you happen to be in the middle of, so you are bad. The lines tend to become blurry as we get more information.
In furtherance of these stances we take, we download information into ourselves that fits our positions and worldview. We pick and choose which scientifically valid - or otherwise - studies that we believe. We curate our news feeds and bristle at certain networks. We abandon common sense and accuse those we disagree with of doing the same. We label, we insult, we ignore, and we vilify. We become willfully ignorant of the points of view we even slightly disagree with. We close ourselves off to the possibility of learning something new, of changing our minds, of finding out that our so-called “truths” just might have been factually incorrect.
Why do we do this? Because it’s easier. Because, frankly, empathy is often difficult. Placing oneself in the shoes of another - be that person a frightened police officer who has been told since day one of the academy that people from all walks of life will try to kill him, or person of color who has been told since memories took hold that police officers will try to kill them - can necessitate travel so far outside the realm of personal comfort that it can make one sick.
An example based on my recent reading of Man’s Search for Meaning: the death camp you miraculously survived being murdered at is liberated by an armed, organized group of violent killers who allied together to defeat another armed, organized group of violent killers. You make your way back to your hometown wherein the populace seemingly abetted, or simply chose to be willfully ignorant of, the killing of scores of people you personally knew, their neighbors. Eventually, you go back to your old job. You continue to speak in the language of your would-be murderers, a language that is yours as well. How do you reckon with that?
It seems to me that there’s only two options. You either choose to hate everyone who did not personally experience the barbaric trauma that you endured or are forced to reckon with the daunting task of forgiveness, of not blaming an entire group for the sins of individuals, despite the fact that they might have been numerous, despite how despicable you find them to be, despite how physically ill it makes you to find empathy for them.
Or you can hate. The hate will come easily because the anger is already there. You hate and rage and dream of revenge, until it becomes a prison of your own making, until it consumes you.
One of the great gifts of my job has been having my work product, my reports, my cases and sometimes my traumas, the ones that still trigger post-traumatic symptoms, picked apart by attorneys in court. Uncomfortable as the experience can be, it has taught me how much gray area exists in life. Things that seemed cut-and-dry to me can, especially to a trained juris doctor, be made much more nuanced and complicated when seen from a different point of view.
More than one thing can be true. Your hero might also have been a bit of a bastard. People you find to be vile can have accomplished great things. Great people could have been real shitheads at one point and changed for the better. The world, humans in particular, are more complicated and nuanced than our current polarity would have you believe. Those that have done abhorrent things can be capable of recidivism and also are not blanketly incapable of redemption.
I believe in right and wrong and I have a strong moral code. You probably do as well. It does not necessarily invalidate yours when we disagree. And we should be able to disagree about many things without doing harm to those we disagree with. I am not perfect, and neither are you.
Stating, Black Lives Matter, is not invalidating of other skin colors. Policing methods can both need vast improvement in parts of this nation and also the profession can still be very necessary. The preventative measures we’ve taken to stop the spread of Covid-19 can be in need of improvement when seen through the magical lenses of hindsight and still be largely necessary to repeat again. Those who protest against things we have contrarian opinions about might just have valid points, and it might benefit us all to attempt to understand them, be they protests against the abhorrent legacy of racism in this country or the economically disastrous results of curtailing the pandemic.
A few years ago, I made an effort to say and instead of but. I try to take in information that could provoke me to a contrarian emotional reaction in a constructive manner (don’t do this before coffee or after alcohol). I try to put myself in the headspace of people I don’t agree with. Frankly, it can be difficult. I am, definitely, not always successful. I get angry and it embarrasses me, AND if someone succeeds in provoking me to anger, I am complicit because I can choose not to be injured by their words.
Today and every day thereafter I’m going to try to remember to listen more than I talk. I am going to remind myself when a pundit is yelling on the television or storming on Twitter in all caps that: most ideas are not mutually exclusive. The gray area is often the largest. None of us are perfect. And the best way forward, through any crisis, is together.
To quote the great warrior poet Curtis Mayfield, “If there’s a hell below, we’re all gonna go.”
