An Incomplete Analogy: The Road to Authenticity

    As I’ve been “stuck” with my own thoughts these past weeks, just “chillaxing” with not much else to do save watch the tide roll in, my ruminations have turned philosophical. The passage of time and the inevitability of mortality (COVID serves as a constant reminder) have also contributed to my retrospection, although I haven’t just been looking backward. An optimist (a realistic optimist, I think, but an optimist nonetheless), I firmly believe there’s a road ahead that stretches farther than I can see. But….

Here’s the secret (and it’s not really a secret because certainly I’m not the first to reach this conclusion). There is no road – at least no single road. And it’s also no secret that your road won’t look much, if anything, like mine. Some roads are narrow with clearly defined borders, while others are broad and expansive, like the Amazon River, constantly changing its channels, requiring endless updates for its pilots. I doubt that we share some predetermined and recognizable destination. At least that is my (non-conformist) hope.

Some paths appear smooth, well paved with a clear beginning and end, others filled with obstacles, potholes, hidden traps. Be warned, however; both may be illusory. Your perception of another’s road can often be, probably is, deceiving. That smooth road may be far more daunting than you can realize and that hardscrabble path an inspiration to its traveler. There is no manual, no road map; only with work and introspection can we discover our own road, the only road we can truly hope to know. And even that hard-earned knowledge, like the best of our highways, needs constant maintenance as we adapt to our lives.

Here’s another sort of secret. You don’t have complete control of your road and almost zero control of anyone else’s. Multiple factors, when, where, how, and to whom you are born place you on your road, provide you with your starting point. None of those factors, however, define your road’s final destination. In fact, few of us will ever quite reach the end of our road of self-discovery, of authenticity. It may become clearer in the distance, but, if we’re doing it right, our road will always be in flux, because there will be events on that road that force us to concentrate on moving from Point A to Point B without distraction. Those events may even require us, like a maps app, to “recalculate.” 

None of that changes our ultimate goal, however, if that goal is unearthing our authentic selves, living our authentic lives, true to our values and beliefs.

You might ask: What about those who travel with us, share our journey? I confess the analogy sort of breaks down a bit here. But those loved ones, while perhaps even sharing the same mode of transportation, have their own awareness of the road ahead. My wife and I have discovered we perceive colors very differently (just one reason I pretty much let her decide on my wardrobe components), but if we are both/all on the road to authenticity, we’ll notice different landmarks in different ways and be impacted differently. Not that that’s a bad thing. Sharing those differing perceptions makes the journey richer, more joyous, in fact, for all the travelers.

I offer this because I have been, and imagine always will be, in some way, a teacher, a teacher who needs to share life lessons, with the full knowledge that my audience may not be interested or ready to learn, and that’s okay, because if that describes you, then you have your own road to travel and you’re free to ignore the billboards, no matter how valuable and enlightening, along the route.

I may no longer have a classroom (and under current circumstances I guess I’m kind of happy about that), nor even a playing field, from which to disseminate my random thoughts. So, in today’s world I choose to use social media to share my journey, my path, sometimes forcing personal reveals because I believe that the only way we can truly achieve authenticity is openly and honestly, prepared to accept that others may not understand, may not agree, may not even accept. And all that’s okay, because, in the end, I’m the only one who needs to fully see, and accept, what my authenticity really looks like, although having a travel partner who accepts my journey is definitely a plus.

I’m thankful that, after fits and starts based on fears that were more imaginary than real, I’m truly beginning to see, not the finish line, of course, because that’s a moving target, but a clearer, if still kind of uncharted, path to that destination. My hope is that by sharing these and other thoughts you can start on your path sooner than I.*

Best wishes to all on your respective journeys. May you find as much of the same peace as I have, although ideally with an earlier start!

* If you don’t know where you’re going, you'll end up someplace else. – Yogi Berra

Hollow Victory — No Joy in Mudville

I suppose I should feel better about the 2020 presidential election outcome than I do. I really wish I could. After all, it was Trump who struck out (probably primarily because of his tendency to lash out).

As the process unfolded, I had one, and really only one, overriding concern – defeat the incumbent, a man so despicable that I’m repulsed to be lumped in the same gender category as him. 

He was, from my perspective, the worst president of my lifetime – 72 years, so, since Truman, although I obviously don’t have any real memories of HST other than his post-presidency, but I do read and know, have even taught, our nation’s history. In my view, no previous modern occupant of the White House comes even close.

While I think Trump was a bad president (again, the worst in my lifetime), he was a worse person, one who brought out the worst instincts in both his supporters and opponents, who enabled and encouraged white supremacists, who made even our friends abroad ask, “What the hell, America?” It will take a long time to rehabilitate our reputation abroad, to restore the trust and leadership that once was ours, to, pardon the expression, Make America Great Again. You can discount the opinions of your enemies, your rivals, but when friends and allies roll their eyes (Hello, Lincoln Project), you might want to rethink your choice. 

Donald.Trump.Is.A.Bad.Man.

Being anti-abortion doesn’t change that; he stands behind cruelty. Not that his supporters will likely believe them, but the revelations that will flow from the toxic waste dump that was his administration will probably surprise even me. To be clear, I don’t want to see him charged with any crimes (there’s little doubt in my mind that there are multiple legitimate possibilities). But then I also supported President Ford’s pardon of Richard Nixon. Because Ford put healing the country ahead of politics, he may have cost himself the election of 1976. I hope President-elect Biden pushes all the tempting revenge scenarios to the bottom of his (necessarily lengthy, thanks to his predecessor) agenda, and encourages states’ attorneys general and governors to do the same.

Nor does the failure of the mythical “Blue Wave” to materialize discourage me, although I would have welcomed it. And I have little hope that Mitch McConnell will be anything other than what he’s been for the past 10 years, a Machiavellian politician with a private agenda to recreate a 1950s America (which was probably pretty good for a straight, middle class, white male, considerably less so for most everyone else). So I am resigned to a miserable stretch of at least two years, maybe longer if the 2022 elections follow recent patterns,  but I’ve managed to survive charting new depths of despair for the past four years....

So what disturbs me most about this election? The one thing it absolutely proves is that 2016 wasn’t an aberration. I had hoped, a false hope it is now obvious, that 2016 was a visceral reaction to frustration with the state of the country, to feeling ignored and invisible, to feeling like a pawn to be sacrificed. I conjured up various explanations, based on my own observations, based on what I thought I knew about those who voted for him. You know, “fine people on both sides.” I worked to understand why some of those people, people I knew to be decent and honorable, voted for Despicable He. I excused, rationalized, tried to defend their decision. Most of the people I knew weren’t 5th Avenue Trumpists; they may have been fooled once, or were so antagonistic toward his opponent that they voted AGAINST her, but these were good people who would come to their senses after witnessing the bullying, lying, and aggressive ignorance that consistently characterized our 45th president.

2020 has made it obvious that, once again, I’m a hopeless optimist not grounded in reality. 2016 is who we are, because in 2020, HALF of the American voters wanted to return this not very bright, incompetent, vulgarian bully to the White House. The most (and, quite frankly, only) charitable explanation that I can come up with (but recognizing my own blinders) is partisan blindness, a belief that only one political party cares about the future (and only their vision of that future) of the country. Trump’s rejection by a majority of the voters is a small relief, but that so many wanted the opposite, that so many continue to defend him, does not make me hopeful in the slightest about the future USA in which my daughter and granddaughter will live.

What can I do? My first action: abandon any hope that maintaining even FB relationships with those outside my belief system might open their minds. That was a fruitless and frustrating 4-year endeavor. So I will leave them to their hyper-partisan echo chambers, their Fox News, PJ Media, Daily Caller, Daily Wire, Breitbart, InfoWars, etc., etc. If that’s where they choose to live, so be it, but I don’t have to visit or even walk past their house, because my presence clearly changes nothing except to make me feel worse. 2020 has been bad enough – I don’t need to get burned by adding fuel to a dumpster fire.

Even if I think I know, I will not ask about your vote. I am not actively looking to shed connections, but if you insist of posting stupid, insulting, political memes, repeating absurd conspiracy theories, or echoing Doomsday/End of the World prophecies, sheepling (bleating) the words of others instead of your own, well, I have better ways to waste my time and fill up my feed. Bye, Felicia.

Collusion Confusion & The Partisan Divide

President Trump repeatedly tweets and claims that he is not guilty of collusion. It may come as a surprise that I absolutely concur, although it’s neither a compliment nor an endorsement; Donald J. Trump is not capable of collusion (as far as I know, it is not even one of the many words he has misspelled).

Collusion requires listening skills; collusion requires the ability to work with others; collusion requires discretion and self-discipline; collusion requires loyalty and commitment to a common goal; collusion requires consistency. None of those attributes are hallmarks of the current president. His minions, of course, are, perhaps, another story.

Beyond that, I don’t think the Russians really cared who won the 2016 election. (If you think HRC was in their pocket but Trump is independent, or vice versa, your “stink test” detector might need a new battery.) There were advantages and disadvantages for Vladimir Putin to both candidates. No, what Putin wanted was exactly what he got, a divided nation with citizens so busy fighting amongst ourselves that Russian objectives, prime among them restoring Russia to global player and superpower status, could be achieved with a minimum of American interference. Russian trolls continue working to perpetuate those divisions.

“We have met the enemy and he is us,” said Pogo, so far back in the day that few of you reading this even get the reference.

Getting it, however, is less important than its truth. Are you part of the problem that is our toxic, tribal political atmosphere? If you’re posting or even sharing partisan memes, my answer is, “Yes.” If you’re railing and ranting against either liberals or conservatives, as if one group has a monopoly on truth or virtue, my answer is, “Yes.” If you’re pointing fingers (not just the middle one) or shaking fists at one group or another, religious or political or racial, if you’re generalizing and stereotyping, my answer is, “Yes.” If you believe that your team is good or that the “other” team is evil, my answer is, “Yes.” Political beliefs do not qualify their adherents as either saintly or ungodly.

Rabid partisans, almost by definition, are not prone to self-examination. Asking yourself, “What if I’m wrong?” before jumping in or sharing vitriol at least has the potential of mitigating some of the anger so prevalent on social media, the anger that continues to drive that wedge between us even deeper into our national soul. Of course, that means we have to admit such a possibility. But I’m guessing if you won’t, or can’t, admit that maybe, just maybe, you could be wrong (and that an opposing point of view might have value), you probably never started reading this in the first place.   

Build the Bleepin' Boondoggle

Let me be clear. The proposed border wall* is a monumental waste of money and will do little if anything to stop illegal immigration. (According to some sources, at least 25-30% of illegal immigrants come in by plane and then overstay their visas; no wall will change that, although cheaper solutions for that problem actually do exist.) Instead it will be a monument to a narcissist's ego, so it does have that going for it.

You think I’m being sarcastic. Well, it is my nature, but in this case that’s only a small part of the picture.

Our government wastes money by the barrel, although you and I may disagree on what actually constitutes some of that waste. In the big scheme of things, a $25 billion wall is a relatively small output for what I expect we would get in return.

Wait, what? I just said it’s a monumental waste of money and won’t work. No, that’s not a Trumpian Truth (convenient shift of position). Because there are, in fact, benefits to building the stupid thing, just not its intended one. Incidentally, the money won’t be spent either up front or all at once, so it is quite possible the waste will actually be less than that. The wall will take years to build and construction probably won’t begin until 2019 at the earliest. Assuming we elect someone competent in 2020, such a project can stop faster than it started.

Much of the expenditure for this vanity project will go to pay workers (at least some of whom, I’m willing to bet, will be immigrants, dreamers, and even undocumented aliens). So that money feeds the local economy.

Political pressure will almost certainly require the actual wall components, unlike most other Trump brand merchandise, to be made in this country, using domestic materials and suppliers, again fueling our economy.

Again, I’m not in any way suggesting the wall is the most, or even a, critical infrastructure need, but from a “trickle down” perspective it will serve the same purpose, creating jobs.

I’m a pragmatist. I do not think our immigration “problem” is the most pressing thing on our plate, certainly not in my neck of the woods. Its costs and alleged dangers are overblown and exaggerated, using isolated anecdotes, rather than research, to make things seem far worse than they are. But perception trumps reality, and this seems to be a front and center issue for the president and the trumpet section, one that is getting in the way of finding solutions to real (more important, IMO) problems, including a shortage of workers in jobs filled by immigrants on temporary work visas (that Americans will not take).

“….If we don’t truly secure our borders, you can say goodbye to our country.

[Senator Schumer] needs to understand that this isn’t just my demand. These are the non-negotiable demands of the American people!” (victory.donaldtrump.com)

Now I don’t trust either President Trump or Senator McConnell to actually KEEP their promises (both have demonstrated a complete lack of trustworthiness), but if the stupid wall is TRULY the obstacle to solving that mythical problem, it’s time to call the bluff, move on, and take this stupid idea off the table. Sometimes, as all parents know (to our chagrin), you give the toddler the damn piece of candy so you can get him in the carseat and move on down the road.**

* You might read The House of the Scorpion (2004) for an interesting take on a dystopian future prominently featuring a wall between Mexico and the U.S.

** Yes, I am aware of the dangers of such a strategy when the toddler is already a spoiled tantrum-throwing brat, that you are reinforcing that kind of behavior, but I’m pretty sure that ship has already sailed in this case.

The Power of a Word

Despite the recommendations of so many people I respect, I’ve never spent much time listening to NPR, at least in part because its content is often a little highbrow for me. The other problem: every time I tune it in, (and the only place I really listen to the radio is in the car) the somnambulant voices of most of the hosts make driving even more hazardous for me (and others) than usual.

But the hyper-agitating Rush Limbaugh carries its own dangers, because I reflexively start slapping the radio presets when I hear him ranting, desperate for any other station, so there’s no telling what comes over the speakers. That’s what happened a couple days ago as an NPR conversation filled the car on my way to my (almost) monthly friendship-maintenance luncheon with Norm Berkowtiz. The interview caught my attention to the point that I sat in the parking lot of the restaurant (I was early) to hear the end of it.

Thus it was that NPR was still on as I started my return trip home and why my perception of something I had taught for decades changed forever — slavery.

What caught me, and what I hope catches you, is how a simple change in terminology can alter your whole perception of something that you’ve “known,” at least interllectually, since grade school or earlier. The artist being interviewed talked about how she is working to alter her language, exchanging “enslaved person” for the word “slave.” It shocked me how much difference such a simple substitution made in the way I viewed slavery. Using the term “slave” not only sanitizes the term, but also at least discounts, if not completely erases, the humanity of the person in bondage.

I found myself wishing I had had heard this while I was still teaching; but I find it so profound I feel the need to share it now. And why I’m tagging those connected to the teachng of American history.

Language matters.