Elitism, Precariousness, and Resisting Hate

Hi Friends,

Once again, I am likely one of many messages you’re reading about the election last week and the multitude of feelings we’re grappling with as we understand how this could have happened. Like many in my own news feed, I am not interested in hot takes or blame games or anything else that feels petty and unrooted and surface-level. So, I have been seeking depth and humanity and compassion.

This is not to say that I’m not worried or fearful or angry or numb. However, because I know that our ability to survive hardship, whether it is social upheaval or natural disasters, is strongest when we are part of a connected community, that is my focus. I am most concerned about our ability to connect with each other, our ability to work together, and our tendencies to cancel each other when we disagree, that I am exploring a path of connection and love.

I am gaining a greater understanding of the ways in which our political systems are not serving a majority of Americans and how experiences of being dismissed, tokenized, and/or ignored can lead to dangerous political choices. I am seeing more clearly how elitism in American politics by both major political parties has alienated so many people AND continues to divide us from working with each other and seeing each others’ humanity.

We are being intentionally divided from each other, and our individual tendencies to sever relationships over voting choices is playing into these efforts. We are being encouraged to hate each other, to see each other as less than human, for our voting choices, for our lived experiences, for our desires to belong and to be included and valued and heard. Overcoming this division is the way we survive whatever is coming.

This is likely skimming the surface, but what Karen Tumulty shared in The Washington Post resonated with me:

“But I think the main thing that happened Tuesday was an expression of frustration and impatience with a political system so wrapped up in itself that it no longer hears the concerns of ordinary Americans, much less addresses them. For too long, Democrats have been in thrall to their educated, affluent elite. They denied that there was chaos at the border, until the impact began to be felt in blue cities. They told less fortunate people that they were imagining the economic stresses in their lives; the statistics, after all, said otherwise. They kept businesses and schools under lockdown during the pandemic, taking a toll on the working class and their children that will not be overcome for years, maybe decades. They refused to see past group identity — race, gender, sexual orientation — to individual circumstance.”

It is worth noting that while the US economy has improved in drastic ways by many measures, these improvements were not felt by a significant portion of Americans. Lyz Lenz called this out in her blog last May, “But it’s more than just the price of groceries and the financial hole we are all crawling out of. It’s that everything is so precarious. We are like spiders floating over the edge of a cliff. One small gust of wind and we are gone. One medical tragedy, one unexpected pregnancy or hospitalization, one bad diagnosis, one car accident, and the detente between us and our finances goes out the window.”

She goes on to say that “The economy is doing well for people who can afford to put money in the stock market, who can buy homes, who don’t have to check over their receipts at the grocery store or the gas station, who are lucky enough to hold the kinds of jobs that help pay for health care (and allow time off to access it). For everyone else, ‘Actually, the key economic indicators show you are wrong’ is not a convincing argument or a helpful one.”

Chris Walker’s article in Truthout points out that “The stock market, of course, is not a proper indicator of how well the economy is doing, especially for the half of all households in the U.S. whose members do not own any stock, including 401K retirement plans, and are therefore not impacted by positive performances on Wall Street the same way the ultra-rich are.”

The economic disparities in our country are having impacts across our lives, including in the ways we vote, in the ways we want to be valued, and in the compromises we are tired of making for little actual progress. We cannot discount the lived experiences of so many Americans and the validity of their concerns and desires, even as we know that the incoming administration threatens so many of us.

Alberto Toscano’s thoughts in In These Times are relevant as well: “In a deeply unequal society in which most peoples’ everyday life is wracked by precariousness, anxiety, debt or inflation, the forces of authoritarian populism always have an advantage. Making the vulnerable responsible for the hardships of the many or stigmatizing some elites to enshrine ever greater inequality is an old game.”

The biggest question in my head right now is how to build solidarity and connection in my community. How do I reach out with love in my heart to understand my neighbors and learn about what they worry about most and work together to address those concerns?

Garrett Bucks from Barnraisers shared a thought-provoking scenario — “What if the most caring members of your community all knew each other?” Can you identify any of these people in your community? Do they know each other? Are you the person who can connect them?

Bucks continues: “When I imagine the networks we have to build in every single American community at this moment in time, I don’t just want to re-create the same activist clubhouses over and over again. I do, in fact, want to look for the helpers, because that advice isn’t just a Mister Rogers cliche. ‘The helpers’ don’t exist merely as abstract reminders of human kindness; they’re the actual people who we need to connect together if we have any hope of digging out of this cursed political moment.”

If we believe that, as Bucks says, “We have everybody that we need already. We just need to find each other,” what role can you play in making those connections? Please revisit the Social Change Map if you’re unsure about your strengths and where you are most needed. Reach out to me if you want to explore the ways you want to show up in this movement.

I am encouraged by Valarie Kaur’s message about “The Long Labor” — “We need to hold fast to each other in the dark, now more than ever.” She continues, “And in our hardest moments we will remember: In every turn through the cycle of human history, people have been thrown in the darkness. And they have a choice — we have a choice: Do I succumb to my despair, or dare lift my gaze and sing a song of love? Do I free only myself, or do I refuse to leave anyone behind?” Building and maintaining relationships with each other is hard, even when we love each other. Fortify yourself with your connections, rest when you need it, plan for the long road ahead.

Please remember the important role of grief and mourning as we move towards action. As Nicole at Reimagined shared, using grief and mourning can be resistance: “The process of acknowledging and processing grief has the capacity to change much about who we are, and what we know about ourselves. And that’s true on a collective level, too. Many of the moments that have shaped policy, shifted institutions, and reshaped communities were sparked by loss — the deaths of everyday people and political figures, the heartbreaks in mass shootings, the turmoil of elections lost. Without giving them space to be seen, felt and acknowledged, we couldn’t transform today to tomorrow.”

Take care of yourselves, breathe and push, pause before severing a relationship that has been meaningful to you in the past, resist hate, and find your role in your community. You are needed.

Emily

Listen. Amplify. Follow. In Solidarity.