(This post is dedicated to the lovely Helen and Hugh Davis, who, years ago, taught me that political differences can be discussed in a civil way—as a vehicle to learning, not to winning an argument.)
Our next Presidential election is 34 days from now. Do you know how you’re voting? Have you convinced everyone to vote like you because you, and only you, know the answer to the woes of the world?
Seems like everyone is a political genius these days, doesn’t it?
As a rule, I don’t like to get into political discussions. For one thing, no one really wants to hear my opinion. (Yours, either, dear sir or madam...unless they agree with you. People want to spout their own opinions AND convince you they should be yours as well, don’t ya know?)
Another reason I steer clear of talking ‘tics: I’m far from well-versed on all the issues. I take our political system seriously enough that I want to be sure what I share is true. And that’s no small task any time, but especially these days.
But the main reason I tread cautiously on talking politics? My big fat mouth almost cost me a dear friendship years ago. I made a snide remark about a newly elected President that wasn’t appreciated. The clincher? The clever remark wasn’t even one I originated. It was one I heard from some pundit who makes a living spinning sound bites for the rest of us to repeat when we’re sharing personal views and want to sound particularly pithy. And don’t kid yourself. These pundits come in all flavors—conservative, progressive, and plenty of places in between.
Back in the day, I was taught not to discuss sex, religion, or politics. Seriously. Imagine my surprise as a newlywed, when Rice and I befriended Hugh and Helen Davis, a couple who loved nothing more than discussing politics. They each belonged to different parties, but they shared their views respectfully. Our discussions didn’t always change my mind, but they certainly broadened my thinking.
Now days, it’s way more common to discuss politics. Sex and religion, too. But political discussions are no longer about sharing ideas and learning. They’re about beating down and winning. Let me share an example.
A FaceBook “friend” posted personal observations following the Democratic National Convention in August. I took offense, not because I didn’t agree, but because I found his comments incredibly rude in tone. He always seemed like such a nice guy, so I commented on his wall: “I get that you’re not a fan of Biden or Obama or Harris, but this is just mean-spirited. I’m disappointed.”
Yes, go ahead and cringe at my naivety. I suppose I deserve that in this political climate.
Anyway, “friend” responded to tell me that personally he found rioting and the media mean-spirited. But, he pointed out, he never used that word; only whiners did.
Okay, if you didn’t already cringe at this whiner's gullibility, here’s your second chance. Because, yes, I replied to him. Again. I asked him to reconsider not what he thought, but how he shared it. “Our children and grandchildren are listening,” I said. “They deserve better.”
Immediately, a “friend-of-this-friend” responded, posting to tell me that I support the party of HATE and intolerance...lies upon lies...and by the way, do I share the Democratic platform of murdering babies with my grandchildren?
Wow. And a big fat shame-on-me because, yes, I responded again. Two more times. Once to suggest we stop with the labeling and chastising. Then again to say I had hoped to generate thoughtful dialogue but would leave his page so he and his friends could enjoy their sharp monologues while I kept us all in my prayers.
(Before I continue, please know I don’t think all conservatives are mean-spirited--dare use that word?--like some of the ones on this “friend’s” page. I also believe that talking smack happens on both sides of the political aisle, and I try to call it out when I see it, regardless which side it’s coming from. I’m also trying extra hard to stop doing it myself.)
What I share below is a sampling of additional comments I received from my “friend” and his followers...all in response to my suggestion that we work toward improving our civil discourse:
Jan, you have not presented anything to think about.
Jan , your party talks about being inclusive...and in fact is the most racist and exclusive of parties.
Jan, would you feel safe walking your grandchildren through liberal run cities? Wake up.
Jan, your party is ACTIVELY supporting abortion on demand!
Jan, your party founded the KKK.
Jan, at this point in time, the Conservative party is the party of truth.
Jan, the Democrat party has become the party of elite libs that do not know history and cannot put together a sentence.
Jan, the Democrat party [is made up of] self-serving vipers that have been in bed with China for decades.
Jan, my party and friends are turned off by the bitching, moaning, and rioting; that is what the libs have to offer.
Jan, here’s another fine democrat for you: “Bill Clinton Receives Neck Massage....”
Jan, suck it up, cupcake. Life is mean-spirited.
Did I open a can of whoop-ass or what? Oh, before I forget, here’s one more, possibly my favorite:
Jan, go to a liberal democrat state and pray for those children being exposed to pedophilia and drag queens. Pray for the civilized people in those same places that must walk themselves and their children around syringes and feces on the public streets! You should actually watch and read real information about your party of filth and fakery before saying “friend” and his friends including myself are mean-spirited. Honey, you look like you should be old enough to know better than to have swallowed the bong water.
These days, I don’t shy away from sharing which candidates I support. But I don’t try to convince others they should agree with my politics, and I appreciate the same courtesy in return.
Rice and I have a rule that politics should be left at the door when entering our home for extended family gatherings. Our kids’ and their spouses don’t all share our views, let alone each others'. That’s how we roll. That’s how our country rolls.
So, yes, I have a Biden-Harris sign for my yard. And yes, my eight-year-old grandson has seen it.
I realized this when he approached me, respectful and a little shy, to say, “JJ, 11-Alive News says Biden’s doing some things that aren’t good.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“They’re saying he wants to close down the hospitals.”
“That’s not true!” I exclaimed.
He looked back at me, embarrassed. I felt ashamed for jumping all over him for stating something he thought he heard. He was testing his understanding in what should be a safe place.
“I’m sorry I over-reacted,” I said. “I want you to feel comfortable to raise questions and voice concerns, about politics or anything else. It’s probably better if you talk about these things with your parents. But please know the hospitals are not being shut down no matter who wins the election.”
He back-pedaled a little and said he wasn’t sure he heard the ad correctly. I told him that’s okay. A lot of us have trouble hearing the truth through all the noise. (If I had to guess, perhaps he heard an ad about how defunding the police could cause five-day delays for a 9-1-1 response. Those ads are intended to scare. And what an effective job they've done. They scared an eight-year-old little boy.)
When I talked to my daughter, she was surprised her son had seen the ad and commented about it. I wasn’t. Kids are sponges. His mom and dad say they “aren’t very political.” I beg to differ. Everyone’s political. Everything is politics, whether we like it or not.
Here's what I was trying to say to my FaceBook “friend”: Let’s teach our kids and grandkids to think critically. Let’s set an example for them to express their opinions and concerns with care. Let’s encourage them to leave the name-calling on the elementary school playground. Or better yet, to stop it altogether.
After all, they are listening. Don’t they deserve better role models? Ones who can talk politics like civil adults?
