Of Politics and Feeling

There were a lot of reasons why I hurt when first coming to the U.K. for my graduate schooling. Beyond issues of relationships and family, I had purposefully distanced myself from the world and its politics. I no longer had the youthful drive and stamina to stand up for issues I felt strongly about and "fight the good fight." In an effort to assuage my strong feelings, I tried to convince myself that people couldn't be as bad as I had made them out to be when I was young. Everyone thinks that they're right, and thus issues are difficult to solve if no one wants to budge. In my mind and, until the U.S. election, in my heart, I kept that as a truth. I let go of a lot of issues and tried not to get worked up over the news. It helped. The things that used to tear me apart no longer did. I no longer hated the people I used to hate, and I tried my best not to fault them for the decisions they felt were in their best interest.

That's a lot harder to do these days. It seems hate has more of a foothold than any dividing issue.

What I see on the internet is astounding. I don't recognize my own country. Perhaps it is the media, and that in itself is a complicated issue. I won't deny we all suffer from the echo chamber of news. But when Trump decided to make the media his enemy, he had no idea what kind of force he was dealing with. We are hounded night and day with article after article about what Trump did, or his administration, or what the world thinks of Trump. As a country, we can no longer turn a blind eye to literally anything that this man does or says. This is equally true of those groups loud and/or violent enough to grab attention. Some of these protests are peaceful (albeit angry), but too many others have not remained so. I can only imagine what it's like to be in the U.S. instead of across the ocean.

Perhaps this was inevitable. Our politics have been growing more and more divisive since the Twin Towers fell. Fear has ruled us more since then if it hadn't before. Even though I was too young to understand the scope of the tragedy, I remember how drastically 9/11 changed my hometown. You had to prove your patriotism; our school curriculum changed to teach children what it meant to be American, and if you weren't OK with everything that the U.S. was doing then you were automatically with the terrorists. When small children are using a vernacular, you understand how prevalent it is.

It seems that our country is destined to make the same mistakes over and over in the name of fear. Every time we have engaged in a war over the fear of what could be, our country has suffered for it. We were afraid of the communists, we were afraid of the Japanese, we were afraid of the terrorists. In the end, we lost wars, incarcerated innocent American citizens, and have grown more hateful and fearful of our own neighbors. We are doomed to repeat mistakes if we do not learn from them. It is not just this administration who invoke these feelings and thoughts. The people we come across in everyday life are showing this fear and hatred, and it is growing.

I hurt when I think about this. Maybe I lived in a bubble where I didn't fully understand the depths of hatred, racism, and misogyny of the world. Perhaps I never fully formed that thick outer shell to protect myself, so now that the stones are being thrown I am as bruised and battered as you'd expect. But when I want to ask calmly these people who hate me why they hate me, I don't get reasons. I get accusations: "you are...", "you do...", "you think..."

And I understand this sentiment. Young and ignorant as I was, when I first began to learn about political and social issues, I understood I was supposed to hate Republicans on principle. I understood the issues I was supposed to be for and against, and anyone who thought differently was an idiot or did it for religious reasons (which I was supposed to hate instinctively). I hated Republicans because, well, they were Republican. I hated the religious because they were religious. I hated pro-lifers, and anti-LGBTQ, and racists, and conservatives because they were exactly who they were. This is what I was taught. Not by anyone telling me explicitly to hate, but purely by example. "Look at what the Republicans are doing," or "How dumb can he be?" or any number of comments all pointing a hateful finger.

This, my dear reader, is no different an attitude than the other side.

It is difficult to set aside feelings when it comes to politics. We call them "political beliefs" because these issues so often and so closely rely on our own beliefs. To change those beliefs changes who we are, what we stand for. Moreover, we are told to never back down about who we are and what we believe in. We are divided because we have been taught to hate those who do not share our beliefs, and that perpetuation of hatred includes those who hold high the flag of love and freedom. This is not love and freedom. This is hatred spray painted over to look like something else.

This sentiment is not new. I did not come up with some radical new line of thinking that will change the world for the better. What I did was take that thought and point it to myself. What am I saying that so enrages the other side? How do I think of those people who are not like me? Why do I feel so angry and so hateful?

I'm not asking everyone to stop being angry. Anger has fueled some amazing revolutions in our time. I am angry. What I am asking is to direct that anger toward being heard and NOT at a people or group. If we do, we are no better than those that hate us, and in fact cause them to hate us more. As Martin Luther King Jr. said in his famous "I Have A Dream" speech:

"We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone."

I cannot fix the world. I am one person amidst a growing seven-billion people on this earth. I am one voice. I am one heart. I can fix me, heal my soul which is torn apart again, and pass on a message of true compassion to those I know. My hope is that I have reached you, dear reader, in some way. The escalation of domestic hatred and violence will forever continue so long as both sides wish to, and so long as our country's leaders do not set a better example.