Shattering the Mold: A Call to the Bold

I attended the infamous Trump rally in Butler on July 13th.
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While there's no denying the historic, geo-political and social significance of the event as it unfolded right before my eyes - with many layers yet to be uncovered - it came with an unexpected personal fallout, and it wasn't because I'd just witnessed the first presidential assassination attempt since Ronald Reagan.

Let's set aside for a second that Gene and I almost didn't go, and when we did, it was mostly to show up with some of our 9/11 Truth gear in a crowd that would be at least semi-receptive. At an event whose star - the presidential candidate - has pointed to the importance of investigating 9/11 and promised to open the files should he be reelected. I honestly didn't hold out much hope, but Gene did, often reminding people that no other candidate had made such a promise. For what it was worth, Trump appeared to be our best shot.

Regardless, I was there.

Having marked myself "safe" on social media since many knew I was in Pittsburgh, what I wasn't prepared for was the slew of messages from friends and family who were stunned that I, of all people, had been at a Trump rally in the first place. Had I lost my mind? Was it an anti-Trump rally at least? Had they completely "lost" me to the other side? 

One message after the other. Somehow, they couldn't compute it.

To be fair, I'd aligned with the left most of my life. The principles of inclusion, the greater good, safety nets for those who need it, non-discrimination and equal rights all resonated strongly. I'd attended peace marches in my younger years, advocated for the legalization of cannabis, supported bodily autonomy and people's sexual orientations. I had no issues with paying taxes, because they contributed to necessary social services. Some of us would need the recourse more, others less, but overall, this was a good thing to me even if it meant that childless couples had to pay school taxes and some, like myself, would never need unemployment insurance. We all had a responsibility to look out for and take care of each other on a higher level. 

I was staunchly anti-right, which I viewed as stuffy, discriminatory and waaaay too conservative. Of course I was all for freedom and rights, but I couldn't get past my disdain for its pro-gun culture, deeming their love of guns as bat shit crazy and their supporters as a bunch of red-neck hooligans. And don't get me started on the death penalty, which I considered utterly barbaric and completely hypocritical to boot. Here they were, chanting in unison about the foetus' divine right to life while exhibiting questionable schadenfreude at the idea of death as a punishment. Life is either sacred, or it's not. You can't have it both ways.

Plus, the environment. Climate change wasn't much of a subject until my later years, and I've seen every prediction - from impending ice age to global warming - in my short life span alone, so I never gave it much credence. But I deeply cared for the planet, and have always acted mindfully while recycling, reusing, composting, repairing rather than buying, and bending over backwards not to waste anything.

And then religion, something I'd already rejected at the ripe old age of five. I considered myself to be spiritual - if anything, aligning with nature-based beliefs rooted in paganism - but religion, to me, was dogma. Indoctrination.  An old means of controlling the populace and keeping people in check much more easily than with laws and regulations. I'd been raised Catholic and made to attend church every Sunday - albeit kicking and screaming - but dropped out as soon as I got the chance and never looked back.

So if anyone had told me that I would one day come around on even just some of those things, I would have asked you what drugs you were on.

The pendulum began to shift when I got deeply involved with 9/11 Truth, which was also around the same time I started becoming more active on social media. Say 2012. Ish. And it's not because 9/11 was an issue that resonated particularly with the right, but because it was - and remains, to this day - very much bipartisan. Bound by our quest for Truth, we shared contempt for the abuses, lies and manipulations of those in power. Some were left, some were right, others not affiliated with any particular side, and the best part was that you could be friends with someone for the longest time and not even know where they fell on the political spectrum. We had a common goal, one that unified us. Everything else was details.

So I became exposed to other viewpoints, and began to understand different perspectives and had to re-evaluate where I came down on certain issues.

The second amendment was probably the biggest one. Witnessing, over years of activism, what we were up against, I couldn't deny that a "well-armed militia" may well be the only thing standing between the complete control of those in power and the semblance of us plebs having a say. If they removed the right to bear arms, there was no telling what further tools of control this would usher in. I didn't particularly like that there was a need for a second amendment in the first place, but I couldn't disagree with the need for one.

I also came to understand that the greater good couldn't exist without first securing individual rights and freedoms, the building block to a wider circle, and eventually society as a whole. As with any situation - particularly life or death ones - you can't help the vulnerable if you're dead or metaphorically handcuffed, so you have to make sure you're solid first, otherwise everyone goes down with the ship. This way, at least, there's a chance.

I also gained greater insight into, even empathizing with, the right's aversion to taxes. Not because taxes were inherently bad, but because sooo much of our tax money was being wasted and funneled towards initiatives that the population, overall, didn't support (foreign wars, anyone?). Because we ultimately don't control how our hard-earned money is spent. And we probably don't even know the half of it.

I even went from not being able to stomach Trump and his narcissistic, first-grade level, flip-flopping mouth to actually being able to give him credit for certain things. Not a lot. But some. He definitely didn't do worse than any of his predecessors.

It didn't help - or I guess it very much helped, depending on how you look at it - that the left I had known all my life had started to morph into this creature that bore less and less resemblance to its old self. What WAS that?? It had gone from accepting people's sexual orientations to hyping up gender dysphoria and encouraging teenagers to inflict permanent damage to their bodies. From being a proponent of women's rights to allowing males into sports. From peaceful sit-ins as a form of protest to violent antifa-sponsored riots. From being immigrant-friendly to allowing ten thousand undocumented aliens to cross over per day, no questions asked. From being the party of peace to the party of war. From supporting people's freedoms to express themselves to installing litter boxes in classrooms for those who identify as cats. From looking out for the vulnerable, to enabling their fragility. From being environment-friendly to saving the planet with paper straws. 

More and more, I felt myself becoming a political orphan. The left was gone. The right was not my place either. Libertarianism, in some ways, resonated the most, but it lacked the human quality of interconnectedness that was so critical to me.

And yes, I know - the divide is manufactured, the media complicit. Those in power absolutely benefit from the infighting as they plot from behind the scenes while everyone is at each other's throats. 

BUT.

But we've let them. We've allowed them to manipulate our emotions and push our buttons. To have us buy into the distorted view of those across the aisle. Make us take sides and vilify the other.

For that, we are fully and utterly responsible. We've ceded our power and let the proverbial fox guard the chicken coop. We have brainlessly, and gutlessly, bought into the choices presented to us, as if we didn't know that most people, at their core, are much more moderate and don't necessarily endorse their party's public persona. It doesn't help that people refuse to publicly call out their own party, or cede points to the other. Take any - literally any - initiative, accusation,  faux-pas, and you'll find people unforgiving if it involves a candidate from the other side, while full of excuses if it's their own. It matters not what is said or done, what matters is who is doing the saying or doing. 

The upside of my being a political orphan is that I have little in terms of subjective bias. I'm very detached from the parties and the candidates. I can give credit where I feel credit is due, and be critical where I see failings. For many things, I'm simply clueless anyway, because who knows what really goes on behind the scenes. I'm certainly not privy to that information.

The downside is that I now hear it from both sides. I've been called a Trumper and a Libtard, all depending on the point I criticise or support.

Is there no room for compromise? Are people really that beholden to the propaganda they are subjected to? Would it not change the world if we were all able to say "I see why such-and-such is important to you" or "Yes, I agree, that is in fact concerning", followed by "See, I look at it this way..." and then just explain, without attacking, deriding, or trying to convince?

I'm still somewhat radical and unrelenting on certain issues. Civil liberties, rights, and freedoms. Abolishing the death penalty. Medicare for all, and I don't give a hoot what percentage of my taxes goes towards making it possible. Peace, no matter how much work, effort or compromise.

But I'm not buying into the divide anymore, or trying to fit into some prefabricated system. I'm comfortable saying that I dislike guns but support the 2nd amendment. That I'm legally pro-choice but personally anti-abortion. That I'd much rather pay taxes if I could choose from a list of services they would specifically support (now that would be truly democratic!). That I'm fine with anyone wanting a sex change as long as there is a serious vetting process and the candidate is a legal adult. That I fully understand people who need religion for solace or as a moral compass, but that it's a private issue that needs to be kept outside of the school system and definitely separate from politics. That I support the idea of small communities but categorically reject the concept of 15-minute cities. That I continue to care for the planet and its resources without buying into Operation Climate Change. That people can knock themselves out with junk food til the cows come home, but that healthy food should be made more available, and cheaper. That we should help the truly disadvantaged of this country - the homeless, the handicapped, war vets, victims of violence and abuse - before we funnel so many badly needed resources outside of it. (Continued below)

The independent, personalized grey zone is not for sissies, and it's definitely not the same as standing in the middle of the road. Those who take sides can at least count on half the population for support, and probably more because like attracts like and few people truly venture outside of their coloured lines, so random encounters with opposite-minded folks are, for the most part, limited to the occasional social media post or the clash with that one uncle at Thanksgiving. ​

The equal-opportunity critics, on the other hand, get hit from both sides. And if that weren't enough, they need to practice what they preach by not knee-jerk reacting lest they be accused of creating division themselves. Oh, the irony.

I know I'm not the only one who is disenfranchised with the political and social divide. I hear murmurs here and there from other folks, hinting they feel the same way but not quite ready to venture into the battlefield and get double-whammied.

But we need to normalize the idea of discussing subjects for what they are, independent of affiliation. Truly think for ourselves. Without fear of being labeled or ostracized. Surely, our egos are not so fragile that we can't even engage in a discussion that challenges our beliefs. You can even do it quietly on your own and ask yourself - would you still support an idea if it was promoted by the other party? Would you have voted for Trump had he run as a democrat, something that was very much on the table originally? Do you truly have no issues of any kind with your own party?

If sincerely engaged in, the worst that can happen is finding out we may not be as right as we thought - and I promise there are people who have survived that trauma and lived to tell the tale.

The best that can happen is gaining a better understanding of others and oneself, which leads to more empathy and kinder ways of dealing with the world.

Because the day will come when we will need to band together for our own survival, and it will matter little whether you proudly coloured your flag red or blue.

Let's raise the bar. Humanity is at stake. ​