On Nov. 9th, When We’re Still Us
Unleash the Better Angels
“We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.”
It’s hard to believe that this time next week, we’re all going to be exactly the same people that we are right now (128 hours older is all). After this whole election, after all the escalators and the emails and impending end-times that both candidates are sure to usher in, Wednesday morning is still going to be a Wednesday morning.
I don’t want to naively close the door on this potentially, in one way or another (though hopefully not literally), going nuclear. I’m not saying it’s going to be “just another day.” No matter what the outcome, it almost certainly will not be just another day. There will be huge headlines. We’ll be nervous and on edge. Just about half of us will breath a sigh of relief, and the other half will groan, and Google “moving to Canada,” and then exit that window. And then after Wednesday, there will be Thursday. And after many, many Wednesdays have passed, days on which we drank coffee and went to work and loved our families and lived our lives, maybe this particular Wednesday might even feel uneventful.
The miracle that will make this possible? We are not Them.
We are not all white. We are not 69.5 years old. We are not from New York. We are neither millionaires or billionaires. We do not care that much about Iowa, or Ohio, or Florida. We do not have foundations. We do not worry about “hot mics” or “private servers.” We don’t buy television ads or sell $5,000 plates to fundraising dinners.
Honestly, it seems pretty likely that They don’t even know Us. If it’s in any way as hard for Them to relate to Us as it is for me to relate to Them, then I know They don’t know Us. They don’t understand Us, and They refuse to understand each other, which is fine for Them, I guess. We, on the other hand, don’t have that luxury. True, vicious, bitter hatred is simply not practical for Us.
And just like We’ve done for hundreds of years, next Wednesday, We’ll figure out how to live together, because We have to. And you know what, We’re damn good at it. They wouldn’t understand. While We’ve been down here, having neighbors and friends and jobs and family members that are unique and smart and experienced and, most importantly, different from us, We’ve gotten the chance to streamline what’s important. We’ve found out that when you have less moral baggage, you bump into a lot fewer people, and you get in a lot fewer fights. Pointing fingers, making threats, hurling insults, and inciting violence doesn’t work out for Us. We have jobs to keep, communities to build, and families to raise. For Us, compromises are a currency, one much more valuable than blind strength. We use them to buy friendship, love, peace, and prosperity — in short, to secure our futures.
This makes Us resilient. It makes Us more than the sum of the people who want to represent Us.
Next Tuesday, millions and millions of individual choices will add up to something. And next Wednesday, We’ll move on with our lives. And We’ll look at our neighbors who disagreed with us and we’ll remember that among the “Us”s and “Them”s of the world, they are Us.
If you really want to stick it to Them next Tuesday, show someone you disagree with that the grotesqueness of this election can’t stop you from seeing your countrymen as your own.
And when in doubt, seek perspective…
Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed this, click on the green heart below. Then, a letter about endurance. @sarah_k_mock
