The BDN Opinion section operates independently and does not set news policies or contribute to reporting or editing articles elsewhere in the newspaper or on bangordailynews.com
Suzanne Carver is a novelist and blogger who lives with her family in Hampden. Her work can be found at thetrueYOUblog.net.
Remember the pandemic toilet paper shortage? The empty shelves? The unsettling realization that our necessities were not guaranteed? Though the pandemic split our country philosophically and politically, we all agreed on one thing: No one wanted to run out of toilet paper.
One day, I came upon a newly stocked shelf and snatched two mega packages. But on the way home, my victory soured to guilt. What if my panic-buying meant someone else got none? Considering your needs along with the needs of others is the foundation of community. We don’t want to run out, but we don’t want others to run out, either.
In 2012, gay marriage was on the ballot in our state. It’s a humbling, demeaning experience having your civil rights voted on by the populace. There are not enough gay people to form a majority. Several anti-discrimination and gay marriage bills had failed in prior elections as a result. For this bill to pass, we needed those not directly impacted — namely, straight people — to support our cause. Thankfully they did.
Our nation is experiencing a crisis of community. The us versus them mentality is entrenched and growing. It’s a dangerous divide that will remain long after the ballots are counted. Both sides are guilty of righteousness and judgment.
Last week, I walked by a house I’ve always admired and suddenly liked the owners when I saw their new political sign was of a candidate I support. This prejudice is problematic.
Recently, I had a meeting with a consultant I’ve worked with for eight years. Days before the meeting, I was disheartened to see an opposing political sign in her yard. I considered ending our business relationship and finding someone more aligned with my values. But wouldn’t I just be creating more division? Afterall, she had always done good work for me, and our different politics had never interfered in our relationship. So I made a different choice. I had a conversation with her about her views and found out that, though we vastly disagree about policy, we care about a lot of the same things.
Our humanity is our singular common ground. On each side of the political divide are people, not just votes. People with hearts, opinions, experiences, dreams, fears and things they love. We are all just looking out for what we need. But democracy asks more from us. It reminds us of our shared fate, that we are all in this together, in this nation, on this planet. If the U.S. is a country for all Americans, not just some Americans, we must balance our needs with the needs of the whole.
Consider using the power of your vote to support your neighbors. If your healthcare needs are met, think of someone whose are compromised. If you are safe because of the color of your skin, think of those whose skin color puts them in danger. If you trust the police to help you, think of someone rightfully scared of police. If you have agency over your body, consider the risk to those that don’t. This is how we create bridges back to each other, how we replace animosity and othering with community. Looking out for each other across the political divide is the only way to heal our fractured society.
For all that divides us, our core values unite us. We all want our civil rights, our freedom and autonomy. We all want toilet paper. How do we all win in this election? By voting for our shared humanity.
