Taking a long look at myself

 

Tonight I jumped into a discussion of why writers blog, confessing that I don’t blog about the craft of writing much but more about whatever crosses my mind. Someone responded saying that’s what blogging started out to be—a sharing of thoughts. And so I’m sharing some thoughts that have been on my mind.

Mostly, I try to save political thoughts for Facebook and keep them off the blog. Maybe it’s because at least one person dear to me is on the opposite side of politics, maybe it’s because I fear I’ll sound shrill. It is not because I fear losing readers for my books. I figure the people who disagree with me probably wouldn’t read my books anyway, and I’m not going to bend to their prejudices.

But I have given thought lately to my voice on social media. If you know me at all, you know that I’m a yellow dog Democrat. I have a friend who is, if it’s possible, even more of an activist than I, and she told me once that she also posts about her garden and her beloved grandsons so that folks will know there is a warm, fuzzy side to her. I thought that some of the best advice I’d ever heard.

Today, a good friend referred to me, not in a critical way, as “Biden happy.” I thought about that a long time. I do defend Biden, especially in this Afghanistan tragedy. And I admit I think of him as a basic, honest, decent guy who has devoted his life to this country and who wants desperately to do what is best for America. He’s also knowledgeable about our history, our government, and our international relationships. I also see him as almost a tragic figure, beset by overwhelming problems not of his making about which he can do little but his best. And he’s trying.

But that doesn’t mean that, like trump followers, I’m a cultist. It’s not that I’m Biden-happy, but the truth is that I believe in morality and the truth. My fervent defense of Biden would be given to anyone in his position. I am outraged by the lies and distortions of the truth, the armchair military experts who are quick to claim he’s done it all wrong. Come on, folks, he’s safely evacuated over 100,000 people in less than a month—the biggest humanitarian evacuation in history.

When Barack Obama was president, I was quick to defend him. In retrospect, I see some things I wish he had done and didn’t, including pulling out of Afghanistan once Osama bin Laden was out of the picture. All along I thought he treated his opponents with kid gloves when he should have had an iron fist, but that’s the kind of guy he is—restrained and classy, not a bully. Will I feel the same way about Biden in future years? Maybe so. Maybe I’ll look back and see things he could have done better. But who am I to judge a man of his expertise and dedication?

There are several distinctions among those who criticize Biden. Some are knowledgeable about the Middle East, have perhaps served in Afghanistan and made friends, and see a better path to victory. Among their number are the many who grieve, as we all do, the deaths of Americans (and Afghans, who died in much greater numbers) outside the Kabul airport yesterday. I too grieve for the lost military men (I don’t think there were any women) and their families. But I would point out I also grieve for the 901 people who died of covid today in Florida under the watch of Ron DeSantis.

Then there are those who oppose Biden and look for any excuse to blame everything on him because they are either all-Democrats-are-evil Republicans or the remnants of trump’s followers, may their numbers decrease. Their opposition is irrational, and they will not listen to reason (though I keep hitting my head against that brick wall). They are the people who insist the withdrawal could have been done better, but when you ask them how, they have no answer. Include Kevin McCarthy in that number, as he whines about 5,000 Taliban prisoners released and overlooks that it was trump that negotiated that release. They are probably also the people who are taking ivermectin.

And finally there are the people who just have to criticize. It doesn’t matter to them who’s in power, because they are automatically against that person, sure that we are being cheated, scammed, lied to, robbed of our rights—you get the picture. I am reminded of the unvaccinated man who, dying of Covid, said, “I don’t like being told what to do.” American freedom and individualism have long been traditional values, but these people take that idea too far. If you told them the sky was blue, they’d have an argument.

This is getting way too long but let me close with a thought of what each of us can do: look at yourself, examine your beliefs, and then become part of the solution, not the problem. What is within your capabilities to do? Write your congressperson with support, not a complaint; volunteer to help those who need it, including welcoming Afghan immigrants. Look around—you’ll find an opportunity.

And do try to avoid being shrill. That’s my resolution.

Sugar, not vinegar

My mother was fond of aphorisms, and one of her favorites was, “You catch more flies with a teaspoon of sugar than you do with a cup of vinegar.” I’ve tried to live my life with that in mind, though I admit sometimes I’ve failed abysmally. Still, I think it’s a terrific guiding principle, and I am pleased my children seem to have gotten that message.

One of the things I’ve tried to teach my grandchildren—all seven of them, I’m proud to say—is to eliminate the word “hate” from their vocabularies. It’s a pretty strong, vulgar word, and I don’t see any need for them to say it ever. One smart sophist amongst them asked me if it wasn’t all right to say, “I hate it when my collar is too tight.” He knew full well and good I wanted him to eliminate the word in reference to people—and probably all living beings, even creepy crawlers.

I am disturbed at the level of hate in this country. Perhaps the white supremacists are the most outstanding public example, but I am particularly disturbed by the vitriol on Facebook about the Clintons and the Obamas. There’s also a swelling chorus aimed at 45, though it hasn’t reached choir proportions yet.

One friend posed the question of why, whenever something negative is posted about 45, someone chimes in with an accusation about Hillary or Obama. Why indeed? That has nothing to do with the subject at hand. If you are talking about 45’s behavior or decisions or tweets, accusing Obama of something is totally irrelevant. But such is the level of blind, unthinking hatred.

I shared a classy picture of Michelle Obama with a line that reminded that she is the most educated First Lady ever, with two degrees from Harvard and Princeton. Immediately someone responded, “Why is she so stupid?” Requests from me and several others to explain why the sender though Michelle was stupid went unanswered, leading us to believe the person didn’t really exist or was a troll or a bot (whatever the heck that is). But it all indicates a level of hate that I can’t imagine.

The people who hate—those who claim that Hillary is a criminal and should be locked up, that Obama was the worst president ever and ruined the country, the man who sees 45 as the Lord’s warrior (really?)—have no substance to back up their arguments. They just throw these statements into the mix and then accuse me of being a blind liberal. I have learned the hard way that it is senseless to argue with them, because facts mean nothing in their world. But it worries me that there are many in this country who harbor, even nurture, such emotions.

As for the level of hate on our streets, that too scares me. I remember the fear I knew as a child on the South Side of Chicago, and today I keep thinking how I’d feel if I were a black woman, watching my son, eighteen or twenty-eight, go out the front door at night and wondering if he’d come home alive. Will he be shot by an over-zealous law enforcement officer? Will he be the target of racial violence? As a female and a mother, I can understand fear a lot more than I can hate.

I don’t want to live in a country, a world where hate has such a strong presence, but I have no idea how to combat it. Hate is blind, unreasoning, the last weapon of the underdog. I pray for our country.