To those calling for unity
Since the “map show” of last week—all those blues and reds signifying, well, everything and nothing—we’ve been hearing calls for unity. I get it. I really do. I crave more steady common ground rather than the shifting tectonic plates we’ve all been surfing unsteadily these last four years. I want a news network called Truth that everyone, regardless of political party, actually trusts. Let’s spend some time disagreeing about our values and how to get things done, not the facts, for a change. Let’s log off of social media where our most base emotional wiring is being profoundly manipulated. At this point, I’d rather our commander-in-chief communicated via interpretive dance than twitter.
But as much as I honor our collective desire for kindness, this is not the time for congeniality. This is the time for a fiercer form of moral leadership. Our foundational values need to show up in public—calm, sure, if that feels authentic, but more importantly, uncompromising on questions of basic humanity. We have developed some powerful new muscles the year for tolerating uncertainty, for unvarnished truthtelling, for outraged solidarity; now is not the time to get back to compartmentalization and quiet desperation, violent death and violent denial.
It’s not unity we need. It’s a basic agreement that racism, sexism, ableism, etc. will not be tolerated. There are not two sides on this. There are a million shades of gray on how we live and lead, but there are not and should never be two sides on dehumanization.
And, yes, that means that my work is not to dehumanize those who didn’t vote as I did. My work is to get ever more curious about them, about our current ecosystem of information and the way it has distorted all of our perceptions of truth and trust. My work is to disagree with them out loud, on the page, wherever I need to, whenever I need to—boldly and respectfully.
I am especially invested in doing this with White women right now, having seen that half of those with a similar racial and economic status as my own supported Trump; I am baffled and profoundly sad about this. My job now is to transform that bafflement, that disappointment, into fuel. I am tired of looking at the demographic data the day after an election and being ashamed of the way “my people” voted. But I won’t reject those people. I will pick my chin up and get after organizing with them—figuring out what my gifts are and how I can bring them to bear on this conundrum (the conundrum being that even the dehumanized vote for the dehumanizer).
I see that as work of those who have had the privilege of not watching their humanity be debated. I am not going to ask my Black or immigrant or disabled friends to spend their precious energy empathizing with someone who doesn’t believe they are as worthy as I am. If that’s someone’s spiritual practice, so be it, but to publicly call for all Americans to unify is to ask those who have been systematically and interpersonally dehumanized by racists and xenophobes to invest in them. That’s not just insensitive, it’s emotionally violent—particularly within the context of 400 years of this shit. That’s not their sacred duty. It’s ours.
To those calling for unity, here is my ask: Stop requesting self-annihilation from anyone. Yes, we need to combat the reductive thinking that is only further entrenched by the “map show.” No, we don’t need to capitulate, compromise, or God forbid, normalize the hatred that has always been part of this country, but was surfaced so painfully this year.
And while we’re at it, stop painting fierce moral leadership as wokeism (looking at you, David Brooks). It’s patronizing and inaccurate. Sure, there is a faction of the progressive movement that is more performance than substance. That’s true of any movement at any time. But there are a huge number of people who put a tremendous amount of effort into taking a stand for basic humanity this year; we even risked our own health, the health of our families, to show up at protests and work the polls. We donated money at a time when money was already tight. We talked to our children, however clumsily, about the brokenness of the world. We didn’t do it for woke brownie points. We did it because something intrinsic to our very souls resists the dehumanization of others.
We must not parody that, or call for its politeness. We must nurture and grow and honor that. We must push progressive White America to look at the places where hypocrisy and neglect live in our own lives, not just point the finger at Trump voters. We’re coming to the close of a year of painful unearthing; don’t dishonor that with pavement of politeness.
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If you are a White person on this journey to figure out how to organize with other White people, check out my bud Garrett Bucks’ new Barnraisers Project, Showing Up for Racial Justice, and/or Integrated Schools.
Your post resonated with me very much a white woman who is trying to understand what is behind the complacency of SO many white women that would drive them to not only vote for Trump once -- but TWICE. Last weekend, many of the white female "lifestyle influencers" I follow on Instagram, sadly, did not even *acknowledge* the presidential election or its implications for racial justice (and so many other critical social issues) and the rejection of Trump and all of his attempts to tear our country apart. Not to mention its historic significance for women -- especially women of color. Many of these same white female-led Insta accounts (~150K+ followers) were posting BLM content the summer, sharing graphics about peace/unity and urging followers to support Black-owned businesses. But on the historic day when a the world learned Biden had won the election... silence. (Ok, a few were regurgitating the same pitch to join their "community" of Doterra essential oil users).
Other than unfollow them, what can be done to hold them accountable for their silence? I got blocked by a couple of prominent blogger moms, both based in Utah, for questioning their silence in the most non-confrontational way possible via DM. But I was clear: I was disappointed that they were not acknowledging this very consequential real life event and that white privilege keeps us from even addressing what this election means for those who are relentlessly marginalized in society. The clap-back was swift and confused (e.g. What do you mean by privilege?? You are a closed minded and ignorant and part of the problem of hate in this world. Spread love not lies."). But where is the lie? IDFK. White complacency and fragility were on full display. The stakes were simply not as high from them, personally, so it was a choice to say nothing. In my opinion, in 2020 its completely tone-deaf to remain apolitical no matter how big of an audience you have. And definitely not so you can keep your followers happy so they continue to swipe up. (S/O to the handful of white women-led Insta accounts that DID recognize the significance of the day!)
I respect your opinion very much and would love to hear any insights on this dilemma. I understand that the bigger impact can be made by having these hard conversations with people in our own families and friends, but I also feel these social media influencers can't ignore the elephant (or donkey?) in the room when it comes to politics.... Thanks for listening to this rant!
I really appreciate what you shared here Courtney. I too have difficulty trying to figure out how to talk with the other half of white women in the U.S.
And in My Grandmother's Hands by Resmaa Menekam, and Valarie Kaurs See No Stranger, and in a certain way Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer--The underlying work of healing is non verbal. Nonverbal in terms of nonthinking-through doing things together-like humming, prayer, honoring, drumming, dancing, singing, laughing, breathing. Taking a break from trying to hear each others thoughts, beliefs and stories and simply being together in simple ways...I wonder a lot about this and what would shift over time...