thoughts on conflict and communion

hiking and talking with strangers, for the cause

hey, everyone! welcome to week two.

this last week, and the week before, i’ve been trying to adjust to a new life. a life where i’m a little more aware of just how vulnerable i am, just how fleeting a happy life might be, and hoping to grasp little opportunities to make my world, and the world of those around me, brighter, more peaceful, and more stable.

i am filled with a sense of renewed purpose, but this did not come about on its own.

---

on november 5th, my country empowered a movement which frightens me.

and, as a result, i’ve spent the last two weeks struggling to feel peace, fearing for myself and my loved ones.

but, mostly, i’m frustrated by how isolated we all seem to be. i hate how it feels like we’re each floating islands... occasionally we see each other at sea, hoping to grab onto the other, only to feel so much worse when the tethers we hope to exist, fail us. it makes me so angry.

i feel enraged and bitter. it feels unjust to be re-shackled by bonds i’ve worked so hard to break. i’ve worked on deconstructing societal expectations… how i perceive value in my fellow human beings… forming, strengthening, and educating myself on consent and liberation... to have worked on all of these things so diligently, just to have them discounted… i just can’t swallow it. i understand that internal and societal work that i do may not be important to others, but to have my values be resoundingly rejected by an enormous swath of society… that stings.

i am frustrated, i am sad, and i am scared. but i am not giving up hope on my neighbors, my friends, my family, and the propensity of humans to do good.

my greatest struggle in coming to terms with all of this, is: how can i commune with my fellow human beings, in ways that allows us each to show up earnestly and kindly, with compassionate ears?

---

before the elections results poured in from across the country, i had a variety of ways that i contributed to the race.

as always, i encouraged people to vote. i desire for people to feel comfortable and empowered to speak what they want, to power.

so, i reached out to my friends to make sure everyone who wanted to vote, knew how to cast their ballots. i signed up to be an election worker, took the necessary training, and worked on election day. and the weekend before election day, i tried my hand at canvassing.

and yet, despite all the noise and commotion leading up to the election, i’ve mostly just been caught up in how alienated we have become from each other.

i’m not really sure how it used to be before i was an adult, but i think somewhere, sometime, it may have been true that people in the united states could talk civilly with each other about politics. maybe that’s not the case. maybe that’s just a rosy idea somewhere in the back of my mind, where i try to comfort myself and make sense of what i see, and what disturbs me. but i’m hopeful that it’s possible.

---

when i was canvassing (which was a mixture of inspiring, unpleasant, and terrifying), i found myself hiking up and down the mountainous region outside my city. i was given a list of people to talk to, and then i rolled up to their neighborhood with my flashy car and my bag of water and trail mix. with my phone, i would check my list of names, walk up to a perfect stranger’s door, and hope to talk with them about voting.

i felt like a fraud.

firstly, i felt like a fraud ‘cause, in all honesty, i had no interest in telling anyone what to do. my work partner sure did, though. i was informed about how to apply social pressure, and in what way i should advocate for their vote. it was distasteful, in my opinion. but i continued on, obstinately refusing to sway peoples’ votes, but instead striving to be a kind stranger, advocating for people letting their voices be heard. i handed out non-partisan leaflets, lots of them.

i trekked from home to home, ultimately hiking 9 miles in the merciless sun, and later, when the sun started to peek back behind the mountains, the cold. i wrapped myself in my sweatshirt, still damp from perspiration, and hoped i wouldn’t get sick.

this place was not my home. but it was the home of many others. i wondered at the beautiful views, each enshrined over the next hillside. i gasped and gawked at them. i huffed and puffed when i went from one neighborhood to the next. i wondered if i’d ever get to use the toilet again (i hadn’t been to the bathroom since 9 in the morning). i looked out over a sea of mostly barren trees, waiting to greet a coming winter.

but, this was not my home.

who was i, to navigate this landscape, walk up someone’s driveway, clutch the railing that lined their front steps? what gall did i have, believing that i had a place here, that i was safe here? that i was wanted. that i was welcome.

well, it turns out, i was not welcome. at least according to one lady. rightly so, too.

this poor lady had been hounded, over and over again, by people that wanted her to go vote. she told me that she was getting incessant calls, and now they’re showing up at her house! “they,” of course, meaning me. i was at her house. i was the one hounding her now.

it didn’t matter that i came up to the door with a wave and a smile. it didn’t matter that she didn’t didn’t hear a word i said beyond “voting.” it did not matter that i had never interacted with her before in my life. whatever nice thing i might be able to say about myself, it did not matter. she was tired. and she was tired of people badgering her.

she called the cops.

i idly wandered off, dazed and delirious. it was high noon, at this point. i was tired. i didn’t have any place to sit down. i’d been at this for hours, and my extra water was back at my car, who knows how many miles behind me. i was the one who was exacerbated now. and i was being eerily watched by a man who was territorially pacing around his lawn, staring menacingly at me. i was scared, and ultimately found myself standing behind a bush, worried, and not wanting to be in anyone’s sightline. i just wanted to disappear.

after what felt like a fever dream and some encouragement over the phone, i decided to stick out the day. i knew when i came into this canvassing work that it might not be for me (in particular because i don’t like telling people what they should do), but i did want to see through my end of the bargain, which was completing the workday.

thankfully, my work partner who was loosely assigned to similar neighborhoods as i was, talked with the cop. for whatever reason, the cop found him before they caught up with me. probably because i was hiding behind a bush. anyway, they had a little chitchat about protected political speech, and came to an understanding why people might not like us being here, and that was that. we were permitted to carry on with our work.

---

i don’t have a clever end to this story. unfortunately, i was not able to make things right with the lady who called the cops. thankfully, the men (yes, there was more than just the one) that stared me down didn’t do anything more than frighten me.

but i did learn just how important it is to treat people with dignity and respect. i thought i knew that before, but something about feeling stranded without water in a town that mostly doesn’t want you around, reinforced the importance of dignity to me.

i was a stranger, yes. but, i was also a kind ear. i did my best to be a friendly person.

i was a neutral party for folks that expressed their fear, frustration, and uncertainty. i was a welcoming smile for folks that proudly expressed their opinions. i was a gracious canvasser that understood why people would not want to spend their valuable time talking with me.

i felt, and still feel, that there is so much opportunity for us to know each other, and to be kind to each other. kindness takes work, is emotionally expensive, but is fulfilling. i can look back and feel good about myself, while acknowledging the ways that i came up short, having learned ways that i can do better next time.

it seems to me that there’s so much screaming in the political discourse of the united states. pundits seem so sure about what is right and what is wrong. it almost seems like everyone’s in a yelling match, to see who can generate the most volume, to drown out opposing voices. it’s exhausting, and it’s stressful. it may also be unproductive and unhelpful. it might even be counterintuitive, not aligned with who we really are, as people.

are we really incapable of listening to each other?

it seems unlikely to me. i look around me, and i see people who are interested in safety. people interested in going to bed at night, and waking the next day. people who want to reach their goals. people who would like to minimize impediments to their success. people who don’t want their beliefs to be persecuted. people who want the means to live peacefully. people who are generally kind.

of all the people i interacted with while canvassing, the only one who was explicitly rude to me, was the lady who called the police. but, she was at the end of her rope. and although i was rattled, i was able to understand her frustration and walk away from the event with perspective, not malice.

surely, if i can go to a neighborhood where i stick out like a sore thumb, where i’m generally not welcome, and the worst that happens is a tiff with an old lady who just wants some peace and quiet… surely, there’s a way for us to start talking with each other again.

---

in the two weeks since the election, i have made some attempts to try to heal the wounds that separate us. i’ve reached out to loved ones, although i admit that most of them are roughly as concerned about the election results as i am. but… i have taken the first step to interact with my family members who are opposed, politically.

in this frustrating time, where it seems like everyone exists in a personalized echo chamber, and we never hear conflicting views outside the distorted lens of our idols, i believe that we must take steps to create some harmony. i believe that… if i can have a meal with someone, smile with them, share good memories with them… there must be some common ground, even in the political sphere. it must be possible, if we hope to collaborate in any type of future. lest we drown each other out completely, learn nothing from one another, and sew chaos.

i challenge myself to try to talk politics, and to show up kindly and compassionately, with those with opposing views. and i offer a challenge to you… to consider doing the same.

---

thanks for reading, and i hope y’all have a great week. peace out! ✌️🌸💕