A couple of days ago, a participant from the "other side of the aisle" posted in a - let's call it "split level" instead of "bi-partisan" - online discussion group. I asked permission to use it here, but have not heard back from him. Therefore, I will paraphrase, and interject a few of my replies. He is in bold. I am in italics.
His main thrust, if I interpret this correctly, was that he was "exasperated" with the negativity, even hate, that he and others had indulged in over the course of this year's election. That our purpose there was not discussion but, essentially, "screwing with" each other. That the toxicity was something in which he, along with the rest of us, was complicit.
I got a little weary of those of us from opposite spectrums "screwing with" each other. I think I mentioned in a post not long past that I would actually rather "spit and argue" with more of those on "my side of the aisle." (seem to be writing in quotation marks this morning) For the most part, the "screwing with" tended to obscure more interesting differences. It tended to push us all further to one side or another. I am a left(ish)y. When the barricades go down, I know which side I'm on and who I'm probably shooting at. Probably you. Nothing personal.
He then went on to say that, while his political opinions hadn't changed, that he had changed his opinion of a couple of his adversaries. That he now saw them as other human beings. He also recognized that those of us on "the other side of the aisle" also care about our country.
That being said, I don't always agree with those on "my side." I don't have much of an outrage gene. I tend to have nuanced views on almost everything. And as one of my heroes, Saul Alinsky once wrote, "One of the most important things in life is what Judge Learned Hand described as 'that ever gnawing inner doubt as to whether you're right.'" There were statements made by everyone on "my side" that I sometimes wanted to argue with, but didn't because the conversation seemed to be entirely in the polarized realm of right and left, and I thought the only response I would get would be from Bill inviting me to the dark side.
Finally, he addressed the more outspoken women in the group, me and one other specifically, countering the charge made during the campaign that his disagreement is not based on hatred of women or the need to dominate them, and hoping that we can, in turn, realize that not all people, not even all women, feel as we do.
I remember being taken somewhat aback when, as a member of the newly formed chapter of the National Organization for Women in Door County, Wisconsin, a farming/shipbuilding/tourist community, by the hostility of many of the local women to the entire idea. It taught me something about change. About how it's so easy for some of us to talk about change as a good in itself, not realizing that to others it represents a threat we don't see. I started thinking about how I, personally, felt about change - change that might be seen as being imposed from the outside. Someone showing up at my door telling me that things in my life were going to change, and I decided I didn't like that idea. I would resist it. Just because. Hey, I didn't like being forced to wear a seat belt. I resisted that one, too, until I got a ticket. And now I'm completely for the seat-belt thing. Wouldn't leave home without one. Now I see the light about seatbelts, and it's not about the ticket anymore. Now I really see the value of them, but it took a while. Because at first, it was just someone telling me I had to do something I didn't want to do.
For some of these Door County women, however, it was a far deeper challenge than seat belts. I started to understand that some of what the women's movement was telling them - what they were hearing, at any rate - was that their lives had been worthless. That being wives and mothers meant nothing. That their chosen profession was something somehow forced upon them, not chosen by them as a valuable thing. And that was the message that many, but not all, in the women's movement was sending. That movement was driven by women for whom traditional roles were not enough. And it was hard for the "new women" to see my farm women. Who, in turn, could not see them. It was a disconnect that still exists, but I don't think the gulf is as big as it once was. I hope not, anyway.
I am, at this point, disappointed that I have not seen a reply - or, indeed, another post - from this person. Or a reaction to the post I wrote in reply from anyone in that group. I was hoping for a little more nuanced discussion. Not one in which I was assumed to hold all the views of my compadres or seen as one who thoughtlessly dismissed arguments from across the abyss. But the tone of the discussion did not make room for nuance. Nor was I sufficiently up to the task of providing it.