It’s been a horrific four weeks for anyone paying attention. Watching the assault on the status quo, not to improve the country, but to dismantle its traditions, language, institutions, norms, and resources, all to feed the sole vision of a narcissistic old man is a tragedy. There’s plenty to read and listen to about the nature of what is happening and I’m not about to write more.
Instead, I’ve been spending most of my time buried in direct action. Fraught administrative communication and planning. Care work for those around me in crisis. Solidarity with my community. And when I can, some rest. It’s no way to live, but it has felt like the only option.
But there has been something nagging at me. While surviving is good, there’s something about putting all of my attention on it that makes me feel incomplete. After all, there are worlds to build together. Dreams to realize. A United States not yet built, not yet realized. I’m not ready to give up that project, especially not for daily survival, while I watch much of what we built together crumble.
Unfortunately, building is a collective project. Neither the right or the left or any other flavor of American politics can do it alone. That is not what a democracy is, and even if our democracy is in slow motion collapse, that is not the kind of country we’re going to rebuild together. The fantasy that one side would be able to get all the power, and build the world to match their own dreams and no one else’s, is called autocracy. That is something that no one will tolerate, as much as the orange man might want it.
The question, then, is how we start building together. That’s been a hard question to answer of late. I think that’s partly because the divisions in the U.S. have no shared language. The left has become the party of “equity” and “justice”; I use those words because they use to have precise meaning to me, but those meanings have eroded, as the right now uses them to mean “identity over merit.” The right has become the party of “personal responsibility” and “plain talk”; my family on the right uses those words because of their sincerity and pride, but their meaning is now eroded on the left to mean “racist, sexist, individualism.” And so we stand across a field, yelling words at each other that do not mean what we think they mean, loudly talking past each other.
I don’t have the ego to think that a rambling blog post is going to fix any of this. But I do feel like have visibility into both of these sides, through friends, family, colleagues, and culture, across the political spectrum. Enough that I feel like I can guess at what problems we might have in common. The question is how to talk about those problems, without getting distracted by the minefield of weaponized words, to start rebuilding some common ground.
So I’m going to try something a bit unconventional for my writing: using plain language. There’s something promising about simple words, simple sentences that I feel might cut through the division, to get the heart of our questions about our social contract. I don’t think that capturing these problems is going to do anything to create contexts for working together on them — too much trust has been lost for that to begin so easily—but I do want to start thinking about these problems in a different way than my progressive circles tend to. I might as well do it publicly, in case they resonate, or you have other ideas.
With that, here are some plain language descriptions of American problems on my mind. Be kind to them; they are but fragile linguistic seedlings, looking for a place to be planted.
Can’t get to work
Some of us ride bikes. I do; I like nature, the exercise, the wind on my face. I like the freedom of getting on, going, parking, and not waiting. It’s cheap; I spent a few hundred dollars a year. I’m lucky to live near a trail that goes straight to work. I worry that if I move, and keep riding, I’ll get hit by a car. My wife worries too. But driving would be slower, and costly. I would be less healthy.
Some of us drive cars. We like the freedom, the comfort. Maybe even the status. But there’s not enough parking. Gas is expensive. Electric is expensive. Insurance is expensive. Traffic is bad. But some of us want to live outside a city, so there’s no other option.
We all want to get to work. We want to get there differently. Can we can find ways that work for all of us? Building cities, suburbs, and rural towns that we can all get around in, without going broke or dying? Other countries have done it. Why can’t we?
Can’t afford housing
There’s not enough housing. Prices keep going up. All our friends have the same problem; most have left the city. The country keeps growing, Regulations make things expensive, slow. We need more places to live, everywhere. But we’re building hardly anything. It’s too slow, too hard, too expensive.
Can we be a country that builds again? We need a lot of people who want to do hard labor for low pay. But quick, and no cutting corners. Is that us? Or should we have others come here to do it?
Can’t afford food
We all eat. Some of us like foods from all over. I like Thai, Vietnamese, Italian, Mexican. People in my city are from everywhere, so I get flavors from everywhere. But food in the city is getting expensive. $20 for lunch, $100 for a night out with my wife. We’re having to get creative at home. But our grocery bill is higher than ever. Food is cheaper in rural towns, but still rising. Even though its growing all around us, we don’t eat it. It’s exported, and we get whatever comes in on the truck. The meals we used to eat are out of reach.
We all need food. And we all need people to help us grow and prepare it. Can we find ways to support farmers, labor? To keep chickens healthy, so we have eggs? Maybe we go back to working in the fields. Or we let others in to the country to do that work for us.
Can’t make friends
A lot of us are lonely. I sure am. I was never great at making friends. Coming out as trans made that harder. But I know others are lonely too. We’re far from each other. Our schedules are busy. There are fewer places to meet that don’t charge to gather. Instead, it’s all group chats and screens. Or home alone streaming.
If we came together, what would we make? The community center? A town square? Or something new? What could we create to make and keep friends? To laugh together, in public, and stumble upon each other’s ideas?
Not safe at school
Some of our kids are bullied for being different. Some of our kids learn things, about sex, race, history that parents don’t want them to know or believe. Other times, kids bring guns, and some use them. We want our kids to be safe. Not dead, not indoctrinated, not lied to. We don’t all agree on what that means.
The thing is, we haven’t tried. Most of us are yelling, and not listening. Maybe if we listened, we’d hear. We want our kids loved. We want them smart. We want them hopeful. We want them alive. If we talk, maybe we can give that to all of them.
Can’t see a doctor
We all get sick. Some of us have insurance, so we can afford the doctor. Others don’t, so they go to the ER. Some of us need care, but it’s banned, because of religion. Others are busy at work, and stay sick. Many of us die. But none of us like this. Even the best care is expensive, slow. We all like choice, but do we even have that now?
I think we all want to be well. And when we’re not, we all want help getting better. Will we deny ourselves that, just so others don’t get help? Or will we find a way to keep each other healthy?
Can’t know what’s true
There was a time when we could trust the news. Now, though, it’s about ad dollars. Social media’s no better. Worse, maybe; it’s all rumors, opinion. We have more choice than ever, but no better sense of truth. And so we read different things, use different words, think different things. We make our own realities. We spend all of our time yelling about them, instead of listening and learning. Maybe we’re both missing something.
Do we want common ground? Do we still believe in facts? If we do, what could we make that we might trust? Or at least read and debate? Maybe these are places of listening instead of speaking.
Can’t speak freely
We all want the freedom to speak. The good ideas, the bad. I think, though, we don’t want the consequences. If I hurt someone, I want to take it back. Others use words to hurt, and then feel good. Some lie to get power, and we reward them. Some police words and tone, but we all just end up feeling worse and silenced. None of this is easy. We all need to speak, but are going to get it wrong sometimes.
I think we all like free speech. And most of us dislike hurting people, or being lied to. Maybe there’s a middle ground. Where there’s a right to speak, but accountability for our words. We all might be better off if we chose them more carefully anyway.
Can’t be ourselves
Most of us want to be ourselves. Sometimes that means yelling and jumping and hitting. Sometimes it’s quietly reading. Sometimes, it’s talking fast and loud with friends. Sometimes it means change our gender. We all have ways we want to be that aren’t allowed. We scold, humiliate, and shame. Some of us even kill to stop us. I walk unfamiliar streets with the fear of being seen as me.
I think that we might all want this freedom to be. But we’re scared to have it. If others are free to be, then we might have to face ourselves. Even love ourselves. But being loved requires vulnerability. Can we build a country with enough love for everyone? Or will we keep hating each other, to avoid hating ourselves?
Can’t control my body
We’ve all been two. Free to roam, to make a mess. Our bodies a vehicle for chaos. That first time an adult picked us up, to halt the mayhem, we all cried. We were doing something. What right does anyone else have to stop us? Well, it depends on what we were doing. Picking our nose? Don’t stain the carpet. Singing a song? I’m trying to focus. Hitting your brother? No violence in this house. It’s hard to say when things we do hurt others, and who should step in to stop us.
Sometimes, though, things we do hurt no one. I take estrogen; it makes me feel more me, and hurts no one. But states want to ban it, because it takes power from their faith. Other women take morning after pills, ejecting a few cells. This helps them avoid poverty, death. States are banning that too, because they believe those cells are a person. Some kids take puberty blockers, because their parents don’t believe kids can be trans, and want more time. States are banning parent’s choice.
When should our government step in? And if we disagree, should we default to freedom, or to tyranny? In a country founded on freedom, what other choice is there?
Can’t change laws
Our country is a bunch of rules. Rules we supposedly make ourselves. But that hasn’t been true for a while. Most of us have a few Senators and Representatives who represents millions. Some of us have no one to represent us. We can’t talk to them, share our opinions, know they’re listening. And even when we do, they go back and do nothing. Instead, it’s all about the next election, or money. Not about fixing anything above. And so democracy is broken.
What kind of democracy do we want? To speak to our reps? To have them listen? To get money out of elections? To show results? We probably all want to win. But if there’s only living together, and only compromise, what rules get us each a bit of what we want? Certainly not the rules we have.
