I’ve been having a bit of a dark time lately. Not in regards to my writing, which is progressing just fine, or my life with Ron, or my part-time work at the Department of Natural Resources. Unfortunately, this dark time is in regards to my work with dialogue. I hope that writing about it will help me to better understand it. Forgive me if it brings you down.
In the past year, my dialogue work has brought me many highs. I’ve often felt like, as Eileen Bruskewitz said, I’m doing God’s work. I’ve realized more and more that I’ve always wanted to be a peacemaker, that I’ve found one of my callings.
I’ve learned more than I thought was possible to learn in just one year, both about politics and about myself. And I’ve basked in praise from friends, family, liberals, conservatives, media personalities, and politicians. It has often been so uplifting.
But there’s been criticism, too. And it’s been getting to me.
Like many people, I have a hard time not focusing on negatives. I can spend a whole evening witnessing great dialogue between citizens at our forums, then go home and fret for hours about the one person who was unwilling to cooperate. We at Reach Out Wisconsin get myriad accolades on our Facebook page, but we also get very occasional barbs, and they haunt me.
Once, someone said he was disappointed in us for not being able to persuade speakers from both sides of an issue to come, something over which we have little control.
Another person attacked me publicly on our home page simply because I was a liberal.
Obviously, I need to develop a thicker skin if I’m going to stay in the public eye. I’m not used to being attacked, especially by people who don’t know me. It stings. I often wonder if I’m built for all this.
And the thing is, I don’t particularly want to develop a thick skin. I like my own vulnerability and niceness. I value open-heartedness. It’s hard to imagine being able to keep my heart open to most people if I dismiss a few people altogether.
Doesn’t an open heart mean open to all? Doesn’t it have to mean that, whenever someone directs their anger at me, I strive to still feel compassion for them, because without that compassion my heart will close?
This work has shown me people at their best and at their worst. I’ve seen numerous people reaching out to others, listening, and opening their minds. But I’ve also seen ugly behavior from all sides of the spectrum. There is anger brewing in this country, and working on political dialogue has exposed me to it.
Sometimes, the anger is from liberal friends directed at conservatives, and I’m disturbed to see people I identify with closing their minds. Sometimes, the anger is from conservatives directed at me and other liberals, and I’m taken aback at being directly challenged in ways that I find quite rude.
Much of the time, I sense that our national anger at each other is also often anger we feel towards ourselves. I haven’t worked out why that would be true, but it feels somehow true.
Whether or not the anger and ugliness is directed at me, though, whenever I encounter it, it shakes me.
Before Reach Out Wisconsin and being in the spotlight, I went about my business largely ignoring politics and the worlds that existed outside my own comfort zone here in Madison. That was easy and pleasant. Stepping outside of this comfort zone has offered me many rewards, but it has also taken its toll.
In my darkest times, like the last week or two, I find myself becoming a more defensive person than I was a year ago. Paradoxically, voicing my opinion more than I ever did before has made me more afraid to voice my opinion, for fear of being attacked.
I worry about all this. I don’t want to become afraid—but I’m also tired of conflict.
Gandhi has been my hero all my life, and never more so than now. He dealt with conflict much more heated than ours. He grew up in India, and through his nonviolent movement, he helped that country to independence from Britain in 1948.
The biggest question about independence was whether India would be a Hindu country or a combined Hindu and Muslim country, since a large minority was Muslim. Against Gandhi’s wishes, it was decided that British India would be partitioned into two countries: Hindu India and Muslim Pakistan, which then also included Bangladesh. This decision led to the exodus of millions of people: Indian Muslims fled to Pakistan and Hindus left Pakistan for India, all of them fearing religious violence. Thousands of Hindus and Muslims were killing each other in the streets.
Gandhi was Hindu, but he worked fervently with Muslim and Hindu communities to foster peace. It was this work that killed him: some people didn’t care for his peacemaking. Gandhi was assassinated by a fellow Hindu who resented his working with Muslims. He didn’t live to see India achieve independence.
In my much smaller peacemaking role, I pray for a touch of Gandhi’s strength. I see now how difficult it is to be a peacemaker.
It’s not only difficult because you have to overcome your own internal conflicts, or because of the burdens of leadership. Those are challenges—but also, it’s difficult because peacemakers tend to be kind people, people who believe in respect and gentleness, people who are sensitive and empathetic. It’s jarring when peacemaking thrusts us into the center of conflict.
All of this has been bringing me down lately. I’m tired. I hope that, in the coming months, I can find a way to move forward as the still-gentle me.
I hope you hang in there, but only if it’s right for you. I understand your feelings though, and while I have not questioned my choosing to get involved with politics and political battles over the last year, I too don’t care much for the personalization of our differences. Civility has largely been lost to trite and tired labels, slogans, and rhetoric. I am more convinced than ever that there will in fact be a civil war in this country, in my lifetime. It is sad, and I am not advocating it, but I see it as a very real possibility. We never had a true civil war here, but I see people and groups on both, or 4 to be more exact, sides preparing for what is perceived to be the inevitable. I sure hope that I am wrong about this, but there exists a strong division of ideologies in this country. Not simply politics or religion, something deeper and even more ingrained in people’s brains than that. Truly people who so lack understanding and acceptance of others that they may not be able to live peacefully side by side. It is hard to see these times as anything other than quite troubling, and I somewhat envy those that are able to ignore it and pretend it is not happening. On the other hand, there are people like you and I. Our differences are vast, but we find common ground and friendship. Through the turmoil of the last year I have met many a friend and foe alike, and I am grateful for this. Had the events of the last year not happened, I would not likely have met Scott, Carol, Ron, David, or you. Nor would I have met really great friends in the Tea Party. So in my mind it is and continues to be worth it, the friendships and trying to understand each other is worth the sometimes frustrating and maddening interactions we must go through to do so. In some small way what we are doing, both of us, is playing peacemaker before a war breaks out. I would never compare myself to Ghandi, but there is surely a little bit of him in each one of us that is willing to try to understand the other side, even if we fail more often than we succeed.
The outcome is unwritten of course, but let it never be said that none of us tried to heal the division before the downfall.
I, for one, appreciate being reminded by a sweet person that those on the “other side” have brains and beliefs that are worth hearing out. I tend to be a less kind, less patient person than necessary for a good back-and-forth debate, but I have learned a huge amount through such debates. I’m not the type that would attack another personally for stating their opinion, and it’s sad that people like that are out there, on both sides – but perhaps there are some that no one can get through to. I am glad that there are people out there that can stay kind when talking with people of opposite political leanings, and I wish the attackers would recognize the harm they do. Here’s to hoping you stay strong, Katie. Just so you know, you do have a positive impact – at least on me.
Thanks for this thoughtful reply, Todd. It has been extremely rewarding to get to know you, Scott, Carol, and the many others I’ve met who are great people who happen to differ from me in terms of political belief. I think you’re right that there is something truly fundamental in our differences—sometimes, things you or others say strike me as totally alien from myself, which I find endlessly fascinating! I think and hope you’re wrong, though, about a civil war. For one thing, if there was a battle, Dems and libs like me would lose because y’all have all the guns! 😉 Thus we’d be very unlikely to engage in such a battle. I’m curious to hear more about this interesting (though disturbing) prediction of yours…though I don’t want to tempt fate by asking you to paint too vivid a picture of what you think might happen, so I’ll leave it up to you. I do hope that the country is headed for some kind of reckoning, as long as that reckoning isn’t a violent one. We’re headed in the wrong direction. I say that not because of new laws like those in Wisconsin that I disagree with, but because of our newfound inability to compromise and listen. We have to relearn that somehow!
Thanks so much, Kate! It always boosts my motivation when I hear positive feedback! 🙂