Dinner and Dissent
Remember the childhood civics lessons when we learned the importance of casting our vote? We learned of other countries who were not given the right to vote and we were soberly reminded of our responsibilities as citizens to stay informed.
My mother took this all very seriously. She would bring articles to the dinner table and we would debate the issues over creamed carrots and meat loaf. Unlike some of my siblings, I relished the opportunity to express my opinions. The Watergate break-in-was Nixon involved? Do you think he should he resign?
Remember the “generation gap”-what about these kids today-long sideburns, smoking grass, slouchy postures (my mother was very concerned about posture). Never trust anyone over 30-yes or no? And what about Edward Muskie crying? Whaddya think about that one?
I loved listening to my parents wax philosophical about the pressing contemporary issues. Similarly, when I would sit in high school history class, I had such fun sparring with the classmates who shared the rush of a new idea or a strongly held conviction. Kind of makes me wonder if I annoyed the bejeezums out of the more reticent, harmonious types.
As I watch the conventions, I realize I am not having fun anymore. Is it more divisive now? Or, do the issues feel more urgent now that we are grownups? Or, are we acutely aware of the harm we cause when we make an enemy out of anyone who thinks differently than us? Perhaps all three. I rarely talk to someone who says, “I love politics-those folks sure are honest.”
I am struck by the political opportunism from both parties. Speakers, pundits and folks on the street cut and paste snippets of the truth and present them in a carefully crafted statement that supports the preferred point of view.
The same division happens in religious circles. Religious fundamentalism abounds. My way or the highway. Philosopher Sam Keen writes, “Charity begins at home. If a belief system doesn’t encourage us to strengthen our bonds with family and friends and to seek a wider community, it is a form of paranoia, not good faith.” How many political fights and wars are rooted in a deep distrust, fear and judgment of those with differing religious backgrounds?
As a kid, did you ever wonder about the incongruence of wars between religions that were supposedly rooted in universal compassionate service, solidarity with all of life, nonviolence, and moral capacity? Religious wars should be an oxymoron.
So how do we discern between gullible belief and responsible belief, and between creative and destructive commitment? How do we engage in constructive dissent?
It always comes back to, “Know thyself.” Recognize when you are projecting your fears or your own power or aggression onto someone else. I have noticed that when I am annoyed with my kids, I am more annoyed with the politicos who don’t share my views. Or, when I am feeling fearful or overwhelmed, I have this knee jerk reaction that we must DO something. All notions of thoughtful reflection go out the door.
Be wary of charismatic leaders who captivate and fascinate you because then, you are a signing onto an ideology that may be more about them than about you. I have learned this one the hard way-I now tend to trust the ones who admit they don’t have all the answers and who can admit to making a mistake. My former Pollyannish stance has been replaced by an increasingly fine tuned political and spiritual b.s. detector.
Become a detached observer and notice when decisiveness becomes obstinacy and narrow mindedness. Or notice when dialogue and listening to all points of view become moral ambiguity and an inability to make a decision.
Be aware of those who abuse power in the name of the cause, the religion or the country. Are challenges, differing opinions, and discussion encouraged or ridiculed? Is the door open when truth comes knocking? Or, do those in power demonize the dissenters and polarize the community in order to maintain their position?
Notice when idols are made out of a doctrine, a book, an ideology, a leader or a country. Admiration and inspiration are one thing-blind devotion that becomes fanaticism is quite another.
In my family of five, we cover the range of the political spectrum. Conversation becomes heated and personality styles display themselves in living Technicolor. We have questioners, peacemakers and idealists. We are learning not to take ourselves too seriously because if we can’t laugh at our own absurdity, we are in big trouble. There will always be time for ridiculous stories and senseless horseplay.
If you have one of those “What will I remember on my deathbed?” ways of looking at the world, you probably know that it is not your political persuasion that will shine on the screen as your life flashes before you.
But we aren’t dead yet, and a head in the sand approach is dangerous at best. Sam Keen writes, “As you make your way through the hazardous paradigm wars of this era, through the chaos of competing myths and belief systems, keep your sense of humor intact, your heart open and your wits about you.” I’ll raise a glass milk to that one. And hold the brussel sprouts.