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Disagreement without hatred

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Reconciliation has a variety of meanings to different individuals and groups. Many think of it as something “that takes place quickly and then everyone moves on. It is basically a ‘kiss and make up’ event.” Yet this shallow approach seldom succeeds. Others see reconciliation as being the same as forgiveness, but that creates a different set of problems. True reconciliation takes a long time and must be constantly nurtured to last.

War—a failure of politics—can be seen as one of the most disastrous of disagreements. Reconciliation, on the other hand, “is the maturity of politics.”

“That is the heart of the dilemma over reconciliation. It is treated as unattainable, not least because it is so misunderstood. Like many virtues, reconciliation and peace are idealized in imagination, politically unexamined in applied theory, and ignored in practice.”

Reconciliation is not easy, even for people who write entire books on the subject. Such as the Archbishop of Canterbury, who resigned last week in the wake of an independent report that he had taken insufficient action in response to a longtime sexual abuse scandal in the church. The news broke just as I was finishing the Archbishop’s challenging book examining paths to bringing people together in ways that promote peace, sustainability, and agreeable disagreements. The news confirmed, in many ways, how difficult reconciliation can be in a world where institutions and power are often prioritized over spiritual and humanitarian concerns. It also confirmed that the Archbishop is human.

The Power of Reconciliation (2022) by Justin Welby was published for the 2022 Lambeth Conference, when bishops from around the world assembled in Canterbury. As Archbishop, Welby was the spiritual leader of a diverse worldwide communion of 85 million Anglicans who share a common faith but have sharp disagreements. The book largely draws from his experience as Co-Director of the International Centre for Reconciliation at Coventry Cathedral and addresses the issues of peacemaking for facilitators of community and societal, rather than religious, issues. It is challenging in its message and, at times, in its applicability to issues more relatable to the common reader. However, in tackling an issue that is front-and-center in today’s fractured world, it is also vitally important and useful.

Welby approaches this topic in three parts. First, he examines the nature of reconciliation and the barriers to its realization. His definition is right up front: “Reconciliation is disagreeing well.” Shallow agreements, resignation to the universal nature of conflict, pride, unrestrained power grabs, and a lack of moral imagination are among the barriers to reconciliation. This isn’t about papering over differences. Peace, Welby notes, “is not found by avoiding conflict but by disagreeing well.”

The second section is the one I found most challenging when considering issues I see at home. Welby draws on his international experience to work through a process or pattern for facilitators that he helpfully organizes around six words that being with the letter R: researching, relating, relieving need, risking, reconciling over the long journey, and resourcing for that timeframe. There are helpful and thoughtful examples and suggestions throughout, sprinkled with enough humorous asides to remind you this isn’t a textbook.

Finally, part III looks at the practical by asking the question, “What can I do about it?” The principles here, as in the rest of the book, can be applied to a wide range of conflicts.

It is easy for one to say that reconciliation in this world is impossible and that we should just accept conflict. But one example Welby provides—the building of a 75-year peaceful coexistence between France and Germany beginning in 1945 after a century dominated by three disastrous wars on a continent that was reeling—reminds us that the difficult is not impossible. But in our current authoritarian uprising at home and across the globe, we are also reminded that nothing, including peace across Europe that has led to a strong economy and much greater security, can last forever.

We have in The Power of Reconciliation a challenging message about an intractable subject delivered by a flawed man. Why consider it? Because, as Welby and others note, we have no viable alternative.

More to come . . .

DJB

Photo by Nsey Benajah on Unsplash

History doesn’t repeat, but it does rhyme

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Stockholm’s most visited museum houses the Vasa—a wooden war ship which sank on her maiden voyage in 1628 and was raised in 1961. Inside the museum is the conserved and restored ship, along with incredible exhibits about the men and women of Vasa and the 1600s during the Golden Age in Sweden. 

We visited in 2014 and—as I wrote at the time—this is a history museum like none other.

Vasa Top Deck March 2014

“History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes,” as Mark Twain is reputed (probably incorrectly) to have said. That line came to mind last week as Andrew and I were talking about the Vasa’s story, which seems to be playing out today in America.

“The loss of the magnificent Vasa after barely a kilometre’s sailing was a catastrophe on a grand scale, in full view of Stockholm’s population and foreign agents from all over northern Europe. Before his clothes were even dry, Captain Söfring Hansson was imprisoned and interrogated by the Council of State . . . On 12 August, the Council sent their first report to [King] Gustav II Adolf, who was with the army in Prussia, busy with the war against Poland-Lithuania. One can still read his fury in the reply, which insisted on an inquiry into what lay behind the catastrophe, and that the guilty should be punished.”

As described on the museum’s website, an inquest was held. But in the end, no one was officially blamed or punished, and all of those questioned were eventually promoted.

Why?

Because the main reason for the ship’s failure would have placed the blame on the king himself. King Gustav II Adolf personally approved the design, and he also had the builders load up the ship with excessive and heavy symbols of Sweden’s might and glory.

“The commission now faced an unpleasant dilemma: blame must be assigned, but without blackening the king’s name, and without removing anyone whose competence was necessary for the [ongoing] war effort. To a certain degree, the proceedings were really a piece of political theatre, to demonstrate what we would now call ‘due diligence.’ Everyone involved had had a month to get their stories straight, and Hein Jacobsson had effectively laid the blame on the perfect scapegoat. [The ship’s designer] Master Henrik could not defend himself [because he had died a year earlier] and did not need to be punished; the navy could get on with the job of managing the war.”

As the ship was being designed and built, no one dared tell the king “No.” A catastrophe followed and the country suffered greatly. Recent travels in Scandinavia and the Baltic Sea reminded me of the constant nature of conflict and the regularity of the rise and fall of empires. We think we’re exceptional here in America, but we are not. The Swedes were among those who prospered in the past—until they didn’t.

We are in a time in America when one political party is bending over backwards not to upset the attempts at disruption of the incoming president. No one wants to say “No.”

Timothy Snyder, a historian of authoritarianism, has written about Trump’s appointments and how each are part of a larger picture that he calls a decapitation strike. Presidential historian Lindsay Chervinsky has described why cabinet appointments are so important to the American way of life.

So what should we do when the past helps us see a potentially dangerous course ahead?

“We need to be clear-eyed but not deterred. Realistic but not pessimists. Most importantly, we need to be committed to fighting hard and not giving up hope. There will be dark days and times we feel like all is lost. Hopelessness is the tool of the aspiring dictator . . . We need to keep focused on hardening democracy.”

Mark Elias, Democracy Docket

When no one will push back and say “No” in today’s world, the ship of state will topple as quickly as the Vasa. And we will only have ourselves to blame.

More to come . . .

DJB

Painting of the Sinking of the Vasa credit Vasa Museum; photo of ship by DJB

Down the rabbit hole

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UPDATE: Scroll to the bottom of the post to see some photos from the weekend’s events.

One way to break out of the anxiety that comes from a politics driven by hate and fear is to get out and hear some live music. With real people playing and singing. And real people around you—some of whom may disagree with your political values. In these times we risk losing even more of our community, our touch with humanity, and our sense of wonder at the beauty of art. Don’t let that happen.

This weekend, I’m immersing myself in live music. A WIDE variety of live music, I might add.

Later this morning we’ll be in downtown Silver Spring for the annual Thanksgiving parade. There are always several high school and college bands, including one or two from area HBCUs. The local School of Rock generally has a float. Every bit of live music, plus the exuberant costumes and holiday joy, will remind us of why we love living in a diverse and continually fascinating urban community.

Molly Tuttle and Golden Highway (credit: MollyTuttlemusic.com)

Tonight, we’ll take in our first visit to The Fillmore, Silver Spring’s downtown concert venue, to hear Molly Tuttle and Golden Highway on their Down the Rabbit Hole tour. Tuttle—an exceptionally gifted guitarist, musician, songwriter, and band leader who pushes the boundaries of roots and acoustic music—is someone I’ve written about several times (see here, here, and here) but have never seen live. I bought the tickets for tonight after my friend Marty—who has attended dozens of bluegrass concerts—said her recent show at Wolf Trap was the best he’s ever seen.

Enjoy Next Rodeo from her City of Gold Album (no actual cowboys were hurt in the filming of this video) . . .

. . . and Dooley’s Farm, with dobro great Jerry Douglas.

Sunday morning I’ll scratch my communal singing itch at St. Alban’s parish. Music director Matthew Steynor always has something familiar among the hymn selections where those of us in the congregation can close our eyes and be washed over by the music and love. Something like Oh God Our Help in Ages Past.

Sunday evening we’re attending choral evensong at Christ Church, Georgetown, where Andrew’s a member of the professional choir.

Christ Church, Georgetown (credit: Wikimedia)

Every first, third, and fifth Sundays, Christ Church has a beautiful service of this most moving of ways to close a day. You can hear the Christ Church choir in their recent offering of the Requiem Mass sung on November 1st, the eve of All Souls’ Day.

Balm for the soul in troubled times. Go out and hear some live music.

UPDATES

Congressman Jamie Raskin, fresh off an election victory, works the crowd at the 2024 Silver Spring Thanksgiving Parade
What’s a parade without jugglers, clowns, and people on stilts?!
The overriding theme of the 2024 Silver Spring Thanksgiving Parade: “All are welcome!”
Molly Tuttle and Golden Highway go old school—around a single mic—for a portion of their barnburner of a show at the Fillmore, Silver Spring on Saturday evening, November 16th

Finally, at the beautiful service of evensong at Christ Church, Georgetown on Sunday evening, the final hymn we sung was one of my top three favorite hymns in the Episcopal Hymnal: King of Glory, King of Peace sung to the wonderful tune General Seminary. I’ve uploaded a video of the Beverley Hills All Saints Episcopal Church choir singing the tune. Note that they have the tenors sing the descant on the third verse (as they should) so that the song ends with the entire choir finding their way to one moving, unison note. It is so lovely.

Have a wonderful week.

More to come . . .

DJB

Photo of Molly Tuttle and Golden Highway via MollyTuttleMusic.com

Step away from the exhausting digital chatter

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The more I talk with people about the state we find ourselves in, the more I sense a thirst to break from the digital madness that has infected our country, our politics, and our brains.

At the risk of sounding like a hopelessly antediluvian curmudgeon, let me suggest a more analog approach. *

In an essay entitled After You Vote: Unplug, Cal Newport— the author of Slow Productivity, A World Without Email, Digital Minimalism, and Deep Work, among other books—makes a suggestion that could be helpful no matter who you voted for on November 5th.

“(U)se the stress of this election to be the final push needed to step away from the exhausting digital chatter that’s been dominating your brain. Take a break from social media. Stop listening to news podcasts. Unsubscribe, at least for a while, from those political newsletters clogging your inbox with their hot takes and tired in-fighting.”

It is easy to see why this move might be necessary. It can also be good for you and for the country. Many wise people take a further step and suggest that we be intentional about how we direct “our newly liberated attention” even if our decision is to live in a more unstructured fashion.

I’m not suggesting we give up or give in. The fight for justice and democracy is never-ending and it requires our participation. But obsessing over social media is not the way forward.

Reconnecting with nature is an almost universal prescription for restoring our wholeness as a people. In Washington, we are blessed with an abundant tree canopy which encloses 37% of the city. The nation’s capital is fourth among U.S. communities with the most tree coverage per capita. While our drought has dimmed the full exuberance of color as seen in recent years, this fall we’ve nonetheless had many examples of trees ablaze with magnificent color.

The analog world is quite beautiful. Yet I’ve noticed a tendency among too many residents to hurry past this amazing display.

Even Rock Creek Park, a veritable cathedral of nature, is not immune to our mental disappearance. Drivers rush through, barely noticing their surroundings. Elsewhere heads are buried in smartphones in the midst of some of the area’s most stunning displays, like the blanket the ginkgo tree lays upon the ground in the fall.

Fall in downtown Silver Spring
A view from an earlier fall morning in downtown Silver Spring

Essayist Maria Popova reminds us that “to live wonder-smitten with reality is the gladdest way to live.” But we have to take the time to recognize the wonder, the joyful, the fulfilling that sparks awe in humans.

We find wonder not just in nature but in leisurely lunches and conversations at a sidewalk cafe, in talks with a child as they explore the world around them, in deep reading of books, in simply finding a bench on which to sit and think. However, too few of us choose to order our hours and days this way. The ability to live wonder-smitten lives is often crushed by a culture that demands that we always hustle, striving to achieve more. It is the race that never ends.

The difficulty of finding the proper balance in a fast-paced world is an oft-heard complaint. In times of great stress it is even more important to step back. To think. Watch. Heal.

We can still stay connected to the world, but in different ways.

“I suggest you switch to a slower pace of media consumption,” [writes Newport]. “Don’t laugh at this suggestion, because I’m actually serious: consider picking up the occasional old-fashioned printed newspaper (free from algorithmic optimization and click-bait curation) at your local coffee shop or library to check in, all at once, on anything major going on in the world.”

We have discovered modernity and, unfortunately, latched on to the parts that are unfulfilling for too many of us. We can fly, but at what cost? E.B. White once wrote, “The curse of flight is speed. Or, rather, the curse of flight is that no opportunity exists for dawdling.”

In place of the rat race and the digital clutter, focus on what sociologist Hartmut Rosa calls “moments of resonance.” When things really touch us, they resonate within us. We’ve all had these moments, but we have to be present in the experience.

Slow down and you might find yourself not only more productive but also exhibiting the type of love that is far more than an emotion, but is, instead, something of great activity. Newport suggests we aim our newfound time “toward real community, with real people who actually live near you, to retrain your brain to stop thinking of the world as hopelessly fractured into vicious tribes.”

(Credit: Mar from Pixabay)

Finally, consider reading books again. “There’s a pleasure in the conquest of deep ideas that’s been lost as we thrashed in a digital sea of churning distraction.”

But don’t over plan this new approach.

“The good life has more aimless wandering, less frantic racing, more spontaneity, less scurrying,” asserts Brian Klaas. “It gives us the space to do one of the most important things a human can do: to notice and relish the joyful, the fulfilling, or even the merely pleasant bits of life.”

One of the things [Uncle Alex] found objectionable about human beings was that they so rarely noticed it when they were happy. He himself did his best to acknowledge it when times were sweet. We could be drinking lemonade in the shade of an apple tree in the summertime, and Uncle Alex would interrupt the conversation to say, “If this isn’t nice, what is?”

So I hope that you will do the same for the rest of your lives. When things are going sweetly and peacefully, please pause a moment, and then say out loud, “If this isn’t nice, what is?”

Kurt Vonnegut

Take your head out of your smartphone. Avoid the doomscrolling. Look around. Embrace the liminality in life. Remember that “we are here to keep watch, not to keep.” Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.

And bash into some joy along the way.

More to come . . .

DJB

*Yes, I understand the irony of the fact that the essays that Cal Newport and I posted are online.

Photo of Rock Creek Park (credit NPS)

Leadership that brings people together

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At a time when poor examples of leadership abound, I want to showcase the work of two servant leaders.

In the past I’ve written about servant leaders I’ve known, at the local, national, and international level. Robert K. Greenleaf’s 1977 book Servant Leadership: A Journey into the Nature of Legitimate Power and Greatness defines the servant-leader as “servant first.” These individuals begin with the natural feeling that they want to serve.

Leadership comes in many forms. We all know of the alpha male, Type A personalities. These are the “born leaders”—or so they say.

But there is another type of leadership that is—to my mind—much more effective. It generally comes from people who learn to be leaders, rather than assume they know it all from birth. I put more stock in these types of leaders in part because I am reminded of the tale of a group of tourists visiting a picturesque village. They walked by an old man sitting beside a fence and in a rather patronizing way, one tourist asked, “Were any great men or women born in this village?” “Nope” the old man replied. “Only babies.”

This other type of leadership is—to paraphrase Jim Rohn—resolute, but not rude. Humble, but not timid. Proud, but not arrogant. Humorous, but without folly.

Elizabeth Kostelny

When Elizabeth Kostelny retired at the end of October after 34 years at Preservation Virginia, including several decades as the CEO, I was honored to be asked to add a few thoughts to a celebratory video produced for her retirement dinner. The video begins with Elizabeth stating a core belief: that historic places matter.

“They are dynamic forums for dialogue about the people and events of the past and how the legacies of those moments continue to shape our present and our future.”

I’ve long admired Elizabeth for her courage in taking on difficult issues—such as Confederate statues in the capitol of the Confederacy—in a way that was thoughtful, inclusive, and respectful of various perspectives. With that approach, she has been able to bring distinct and often overlooked voices to the table for rich conversations that produced results.

I also used this opportunity to recognize her servant leadership.

“I think of Elizabeth as one of those quiet but effective servant leaders, where it is not about her being the person out front, but it’s really about how do we bring everyone together . . . I think of that quiet, effective leadership and I know it is going to be missed, but I know it is going to leave a long legacy.”

Several years ago, I wrote about the leadership skills of my dear friend and colleague Catherine Leonard, Secretary General of the International National Trusts Organisation (INTO). Catherine will use the phrase “Not just consuming, but contributing,” which comes from her crafting of values which she seeks to internalize in work and life. We all take up space on this earth, and she was reminding me when she articulated that value that what we do with our time and talent will be weighed against what we take away as consumers of limited resources.

Catherine Leonard

Over the past decade-and-a-half, Catherine has been busy contributing to the work of creating, building, and strengthening National Trusts—and a new set of heritage conservation leaders—all around the world. INTO just released this short video prepared out of one such gathering of Island Trusts.

Catherine sets the stage for what we are about to see:

“So we’ve brought together national trusts from Fiji to Bermuda, from Saint Helena to Jersey, from all across the globe who share many of the same values and aspirations for nature, for the built environment, for communities and people.”

But she then turns the spotlight on these leaders—young and not-so-young, newcomers and veterans—to let them tell their stories about the important work they are doing in their homelands. As she notes, it’s fascinating for these participants to come together and “learn that actually what we do is the same wherever we are in the world and we share many of the same values and aspirations, but also challenges.”

Servant leaders bring people together and help them find their way. As Max DePree, the long-time CEO of the furniture and design pacesetter Herman Miller wrote in a small but influential book Leadership is an Art, “The first responsibility of a leader is to define reality. The last is to say thank you. In between, the leader is a servant.”

With thanks for my friends and colleagues Elizabeth and Catherine, along with many others who have found a way to serve first.

More to come . . .

DJB

Photo of the Cape Henry Lighthouse, a historic site of Preservation Virginia.

Continue to do the good work

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It is Saturday, and that means it is time for music on MORE TO COME. While music “will play a vital role over the next handful of years,” notes BGS’s Justin Hiltner, “music, the arts, and creativity won’t be enough to save us.” This moment calls for much more. But music has always been a way to process grief and point a way forward in times of turmoil and social injustice.

So we sing, play, and listen to music that helps us understand the moment and inspires us to continue to do the good work we should be doing.

Mercy Now

As Venice (not Venus) Williams wrote, “You are awakening to the same country you fell asleep to. The very same country.” Only now we know the truth about the country we live in.

“How do we get through the next four years?” Some of my Ancestors dealt with at least 400 years of this under worse conditions.

Continue to do the good work. Continue to build bridges not walls. Continue to lead with compassion . . .”

The world has changed too fast for too many people, and I suspect we will find that they voted from a place of fear. This is a place and time where mercy is needed. And in Mary Gauthier‘s Mercy Now, the message “of mercy applied broadly, universally, and without qualification, is more than timely. It’s evergreen.” As Gauthier sings near the end, “Every single one of us could use some mercy now.”

Reconciliation

A friend and retired Episcopal priest put it this way in a post he shared that was written immediately after the 2016 election.

“The long period of speculation is past.  The die is cast. Capital ‘T’ truth about our nation is right before our eyes.  We now must get on with the business of being a nation. A primary task is obviously reconciliation. If we did not learn anything else in the past twenty-four hours, we all must know that we live among deep and painful divisions. The primary ministry objective must be reconciliation which is an ancient and basic function of the Christian Community.”

Reconciliation is not easy. Justin Welby, the Archbishop of Canterbury, notes that in secular thinking, “reconciliation is an event that takes place quickly and then everyone moves on. It is basically a ‘kiss and make up’ event.” But true reconciliation takes time. A lifetime and then some. It must be “lived out and grown into.”

Reconciliation, writes Welby, “involves the transformation of fear and exclusion of others into abundant joy in relishing difference. It is “the transformation of destructive forms of conflict and disagreement into the capacity to disagree well.”

This was never going to be a short journey.

There will be many who say we should be an “every man for himself” type of nation. But the Black string band supergroup New Dangerfield—which features Jake Blount, Kaia Kater, Tray Wellington, and Nelson Williams—reminds us in Put No Walls Around Your Garden that the only way we’ll get through is together. Rather than walling ourselves off, “now is the time to throw open our garden gates and welcome each other in. Share our abundance, work through our scarcity and lack, and care for each other’s needs—big or small.”

Listen

I do not know what happened on Tuesday. In that regard, I am like millions of others and virtually all the pundits. Of course, that fact doesn’t stop those pundits from expressing their opinions. It’s what they do (see here and here, for example). But if you’re going to listen to pundits, you might do worse than consider what H.L. Mencken wrote a century ago about complexity, wild promises, and moral certainty.

  • For every complex problem there is an answer that is clear, simple, and wrong. 
  • If a politician found he had cannibals among his constituents, he would promise them missionaries for dinner.
  • The worst government is often the most moral. One composed of cynics is often very tolerant and humane. But when fanatics are on top there is no limit to oppression

There is much I don’t know, although I feel that we continue to pay for America’s original sins of slavery and the extermination of our indigenous peoples. Racism and misogyny are clearly part of what happened this week. Disinformation on a massive scale is also responsible and remains a clear and present danger.

However, I just don’t know the answers. Wisdom is knowing what you don’t know.

I do believe that in listening to different perspectives we may find some ways forward. “Media, social media, and the internet all incentivize us to speak, to center ourselves. As Kyshona Armstrong reminds us, let’s listen more. Especially right now.

Processing grief. Finding hope.

I had not considered the role that the pandemic may have played in voters’ decisions, but it is worth considering.

Unprocessed grief is never healthy. The suggestion that behind our anger is lingering pandemic grief seems an astute observation. My friend Sandy pointed me to the article where I heard these voices saying that the toll of that period of national and personal crisis is still unfolding.

‘Underneath it all, so much of the rage and angst and animosity, I believe, is unprocessed grief,’ said the Rev. Amy Greene, who was the director of spiritual care for the Cleveland Clinic health system during the pandemic.

America is particularly ‘grief-phobic,’ she said. ‘Anger is a lot easier because it makes you feel powerful even if you are not. It overwhelms fear and sadness,’ she said. ‘I think that is why we see so much rage on both sides.’ . . .

Grief is scary, and it is hard . . . and grief is just vulnerability like nobody’s business . . . America’s not a big fan of vulnerability, on either side of the equation.”

Grief, however, has always been a component of the old songs. Especially those out of Black traditional music.

Rhiannon Giddens, in a NPR Tiny Desk (Home) Concert filmed during the heart of the pandemic, launched into an old spiritual, “’cause with these kinds of emotions, the old songs say it best.” That seems to fit today as well.

The set list for the mini concert includes Black As Crow, Spiritual, and the tune set Carolina Gals / Last Chance. While all are wonderful, the haunting vocals and lyrics of Spiritual (at the 9:16 mark of the video) seems especially meaningful for this time:

“I’m gonna tell God of all my troubles, when I get home / I’m gonna tell God of all my troubles, when I get home / I’m gonna tell God of all my trials, my hardships, my self-denials / I’m gonna tell God of all my troubles, when I get home.

I’m gonna tell God the road was rocky, when I get home / I’m gonna tell God the road was rocky, when I get home / I’m gonna tell God the road was rocky, and my heart it is so heavy / I’m gonna tell God the road was rocky, when I get home.”

Giddens also sings a beautiful version of one of my favorite songs—Wayfaring Stranger—accompanied by the haunting sound of her fretless banjo and the mournful accordion played by Phil Cunningham of Silly Wizard fame. With one of the most expressive and powerful voices in music today, Giddens transports us to a deeper spiritual place, no matter our beliefs. It is a good reminder that we are all on a journey in this life.

The Saturday following the January 6th insurrection I wrote a post entitled The darkest hour is just before dawn. That post has been trending this week, probably because the title of this old country song offers some hope in the face of grief. The first line of the chorus is pure country poetry: The darkest hour is just before dawn.

“The sun is slowly sinking
The day is almost gone
Still darkness falls around us
And we must journey on

The darkest hour is just before dawn…”

One doesn’t have to believe in the gospel context of the song to understand and appreciate the meaning of trial, loss, and rebirth. The definitive version in my mind is undoubtedly by Emmylou Harris, with Ricky Skaggs singing harmony.

Keep journeying forward, with hope and work for a better world.

More to come . . .

DJB

Image by Coombesy from Pixabay

A narrative of grievance carries the day

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I weep for my country. I fear for our future.

After a fitful night’s sleep, I woke up to find that we have chosen to put a serial liar, convicted felon, adjudicated rapist, treasonous thief, racist, and lifetime con man back in the office of the president. Unbelievable.

I clearly do not know my country, or at least I have chosen to believe the best about us when the facts state otherwise. Take the reality that too many Americans would not vote for a woman, no matter how accomplished, smart, and qualified she may be. Writing in today’s New York Times, Elizabeth Spiers notes:

“Mr. Trump offered a regressive idea of masculinity in which power over women is a birthright. That this appealed in particular to white men was not a coincidence—it intersects with other types of entitlement, including the idea that white people are superior to other races and more qualified to hold positions of power, and that any success that women and minorities have has been unfairly conferred to them by D.E.I. programs, affirmative action and government set-asides. For men unhappy with their status, this view offers a group of people to blame, which feels more tangible than blaming systemic problems like rising economic inequality and the difficulty of adapting to technological and cultural changes.”

Before yesterday, I had felt that when the minority over-reaches, as they are doing now, the majority will fight back. Historians remind us that “just as our forebears did, Americans have reached for whatever tools we have at hand to build new coalitions across the nation to push back” in these times. However, the large portion of those who chose to participate in this election—perhaps comprising even a majority of the popular vote—would suggest that they are a minority no longer. A narrative of grievance has shifted the country from one that cares about our fellow humans to one that looks out only for ourselves.

“There’s an irony to this [continues Spiers], in that actual systems of advantage—inherited wealth, legacy admissions to elite colleges, nepotistic professional advancement—were all designed to benefit white men. Perhaps no one embodies this unearned privilege better than Mr. Trump, but the ideological framework he operates in does not allow for acknowledging it. Instead, its beneficiaries insist that the rest of the world contort itself into a reactionary power structure.”

The oligarchs, the racists, the authoritarians, the Christian nationalists, and the politicians who benefit from minority rule will all cling to power in any way possible. Their money and political ties have shifted us towards an “every man for himself” mentality. Historians have written of how the oligarchs in America, beginning with John C. Calhoun and working forward to Charles Koch, Elon Musk, Peter Thiel, and others, have made the case throughout history that they should be the ones with the power to decide where the government spends what little money they agree to provide in taxes for the maintenance of order and the public defense.

We’ve seen this all before.

  • The elite enslavers who lost the Civil War subsequently won Reconstruction and instituted almost 100 years of Jim Crow segregation.
  • The robber barons changed the Republican Party from its original focus on helping the ordinary American to a focus on building more wealth for the wealthy.
  • Those with money who hated the New Deal used a series of malignant myths in support of an ideological “stealth bid to reverse-engineer all of America, at both the state and the national levels, back to the political economy and oligarchic governance of midcentury Virginia, minus the segregation,” as documented by historian Nancy MacLean.
  • 1980 brought the ascension of an anti-regulatory, anti-civil rights, anti-union, anti-voting rights, pro-corporate Republican party and the election of Ronald Reagan, supported by the conservative Supreme Courts of Chief Justice William Rehnquist and especially Chief Justice John Roberts. Regulations on business were slashed, taxes were cut, protections for the working class were weakened, access to the polls for people who did not vote Republican was limited, and income inequality soared.

We are now in our third period of oligarchy, this time led by Wall Street, Silicon Valley, multinational business interests, and a corporate media. But we have also seen that a growing, multi-racial democracy can prevail, even though it did not in this election.

These times are forcing me to rethink what I know.

Think Again: The Power of Knowing What You Don’t Know (2021) by Adam Grant makes the strong case that to have real intelligence, we need to rethink and unlearn what we believe and assume. Because we favor the comfort of conviction over the discomfort of doubt, we cling to old beliefs. But in everyday life, and certainly in politics, we need to let go of knowledge and opinions that “are no longer serving us well” and anchor our sense of self in flexibility rather than consistency.

Grant makes the case that instead of “preaching” to the other side in politics—something I’ve done on occasion—“people are actually more inclined to think again if we present these topics through the many lenses of a prism. To borrow a phrase from Walt Whitman, it takes a multitude of views to help people realize that they too contain multitudes.”

These are complex issues that we need to discuss together, recognizing that we can find more common ground than the binary “us vs. them” favored by the political press and the President-elect allows. So don’t expect the media to help. Perhaps what those of us who feel we no longer know our country need is more “influential listening” where we ask “truly curious questions that don’t have a hidden agenda.”

Grant asserts that “if knowledge is power, knowing what we don’t know is wisdom.” We’re going to need a great deal of wisdom in the weeks, months, and years ahead if we are going to rebuild a pro-democracy coalition that operates on possibility instead of grievance.

At a time when Trump and so many in our political world will work overtime to try to push us further apart, we need to turn to hope and the work that hope demands. Every age has its difficulties. We need to keep lifting one another up.

I’ll end with a paragraph I use to sign off from my monthly newsletters, in part because I really need to hear it this morning.

As you travel life’s highways be open to love; thirst for wonder; undertake some mindful, transformative walking every day. Recognize the incredible privilege that most of us have and think about how to put that privilege to use for good. Women, people of color, LGBTQ+ individuals, immigrants, and others can feel especially vulnerable . . . because they are. Work hard for justice and democracy as the fight never ends.

More to come . . .

DJB

Photo of storm clouds by Drew Hays on Unsplash

From the bookshelf: October 2024

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Each month my goal is to read a minimum of five books on a variety of topics from different genres. Here are the books I read in October 2024. If you click on the title, you’ll go to the longer post on MORE TO COME. Enjoy.

Follow the Flock: How Sheep Shaped Human Civilization (2021) by Sally Coulthard weaves the rich and fascinating story of sheep into a vivid and colorful tapestry. Being an ideal animal to domesticate, sheep have been with us almost since farming began to the point that there are now around a billion on the planet. While there are at least a thousand breeds and crossbreeds, Coulthard makes the point that these unique animals have changed us as much as we have changed them.

To Fall in Love, Drink This: A Wine Writer’s Memoir (2022) by Alice Feiring is a self-described “love letter to wine and a lifelong coming of age story.” Feiring believes that the best wine writing is about life, and in a series of eleven personal essays she explores her own life’s story while sharing her love of natural wine. She doesn’t want to be seen as a wine critic, but instead wants readers to share her fascination for wine’s spiritual underpinnings.

The Greek Way (originally published 1930, reprinted in 2017) by Edith Hamilton is a well-known survey of Greek literature and art that is definitely a product of its time. “Probably no other single person has had such an impact in shaping the perceptions of classical literature and mythology in the United States for almost a century” writes Emily Wilson in The Nation. Hamilton was a powerhouse of her age, with influences that still exist. There is much to admire in this slim work, but also much is required to place this book and Hamilton’s worldview into its proper context.

Magpie Murders (2016) by Anthony Horowitz is the talented writer’s tale of intrigue involving editor Susan Ryeland, her crime-writing author Alan Conway, and Conway’s detective, Atticus Pünd, “who solves mysteries disturbing sleepy English villages.” As someone who follows the path of those classic mystery writers, Conway has been very successful, even as he has alienated family, friends, and, yes, his editor. Yet Ryeland knows she must put up with his troubling behavior in order to keep the successful works flowing. An international bestseller upon its release and then the subject of a Masterpiece Mystery series on PBS, Magpie Murders is a delightful whodunit within a whodunit.

Hope in the Dark

Hope in the Dark: Untold Histories, Wild Possibilities (2016, originally published in 2004), by Rebecca Solnit begins with a discussion around the demands of hope. They are real, but she pivots to note that joy is an especially good way to support the work which hope demands. This political season seems as good a time as any to consider Solnit’s thoughts on hope and joy in the face of despair, and to take the long view which she favors.

What’s on the nightstand for November (subject to change at the whims of the reader)

Keep reading!

More to come…

DJB

NOTE: Click to see the books I read in September of 2024 and to see the books I read in 2023. Also check out Ten tips for reading five books a month.

Photo by Ben Smith on Unsplash.

Imagine a future of possibilities

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We now face a decision, in the words of Vice President Kamala Harris, that is “more just than a choice between two parties and two different candidates. It is a choice about whether we have a country rooted in freedom for every American or ruled by chaos and division.”

David McCullough reminded us that while we live in difficult times, so it has nearly always been.

“We think we live in difficult uncertain times. We think we have worries. We think our leaders face difficult decisions. But so it has nearly always been . . . It is said that everything has changed. But everything has not changed . . . We have resources beyond imagining, and the greatest of these is our brainpower . . . And we have a further, all-important, inexhaustible source of strength.  And that source of strength is our story, our history, who we are, how we got to be where we are, and all we have been through, what we have achieved.”

The Vice President laid out a strong closing argument after a whirlwind 100-day campaign that has provided the country with a clear choice: to go back to a past that never existed except in the romanticized version conjured by its advocates but that promises chaos and heartbreak ahead; or to move forward in a way that understands that we are all connected, a way that embraces humanity through solidarity with our fellow humans.

“Nearly 250 years ago, America was born when we wrested freedom from a petty tyrant. Across the generations, Americans have preserved that freedom, expanded it, and in so doing, proved to the world that a government of, by, and for the people is strong and can endure. And those who came before us—the patriots at Normandy and Selma, Seneca Falls and Stonewall, on farmlands and factory floors—they did not struggle, sacrifice, and lay down their lives only to see us cede our fundamental freedoms…only to see us submit to the will of another petty tyrant. 

These United States of America: we are not a vessel for the schemes of wannabe dictators. The United States of America is the greatest idea humanity ever devised: a nation big enough to encompass all our dreams, strong enough to withstand any fracture or fissure between us, and fearless enough to imagine a future of possibilities.” 

I love that last line: big enough to encompass all our dreams, strong enough to withstand any fracture or fissure between us, and fearless enough to imagine a future of possibilities.

But we can only fully realize such a future when we work together.

Brian McLaren writes about why seeking love through solidarity is so important at this time in our common life.

“If you choose solidarity, instead of pulling away from those you once suspected, avoided, vilified, or rejected, you see them as neighbors. You smile. You talk. You try to collaborate for the common good in whatever ways you can. When you disagree, as you must, you do so boldly but also graciously, not burning bridges, not breaking solidarity. They may be your opponents for the moment, but you don’t write them off as enemies.  

When you embrace solidarity, you embrace humanity, including Muslim, Jewish, Buddhist, Hindu, Sikh, humanist, and atheist humanity, and including the humanity of those Christians whose behavior consistently prompts you to ask if you can stand staying Christian for even one more second.” 

We are all connected, woven—as Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said in his Letter from a Birmingham Jail—in an inescapable web of mutuality.

The Vice President has given us a new way forward. As she said on the night she accepted the nomination of the Democratic party:

“America, let us show each other—and the world—who we are. And what we stand for. Freedom. Opportunity. Compassion. Dignity. Fairness. And endless possibilities.

We are the heirs to the greatest democracy in the history of the world. And on behalf of our children and grandchildren, and all those who sacrificed so dearly for our freedom and liberty, we must be worthy of this moment. It is now our turn to do what generations before us have done. Guided by optimism and faith, to fight for this country we love.”

Let us reach for that future as we remember that the fight for democracy never ends.

More to come . . .

DJB

NOTE: It comes as no surprise to regular readers that I support Vice President Kamala Harris. Like Alexandra Petri, the humor columnist at the Washington Post, I do so in part because I like elections and want to keep having them.

Photo by Getty Images via Unsplash

Weaving together the fascinating story of sheep

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Who would have thought that the humble sheep would make for such fascinating social history? Yet beginning with “our Neolithic ancestors’ first forays into sheep-rearing nearly 10,000 years ago, these remarkable animals have fed us, clothed us, changed our diet and languages, helped us to win wars, decorated our homes, and financed the conquest of large swathes of the earth.”

When a long-time friend, colleague, and fellow National Trust Tour lecturer suggested I had to read this book, I followed her advice. When the package arrived, Candice got a puzzled look on her face and said, “who would write a book about sheep?” It turns out that the best-selling author of design and outdoor living books—including The Hedgehog Handbook, The Bee Bible, and The Little Book of Snow, who lives on a Yorkshire farm where she keeps chickens as well as, naturally, sheep—would.

Follow the Flock: How Sheep Shaped Human Civilization (2021) by Sally Coulthard tells how sheep have been central to the human story for millennia. Being an ideal animal to domesticate, sheep have been with us almost since farming began to the point that there are now around a billion on the planet. There are at least a thousand breeds and crossbreeds, yet Coulthard makes the point that these unique animals have changed us as much as we have changed them. Throughout fourteen captivating and informative chapters she weaves the rich and fascinating story of sheep into a vivid and colorful tapestry.

Coulthard begins, as one might suspect, with wool. Even with the advent of modern synthetic materials, there is no other fiber “quite as sublimely adaptable as wool.”

“It’s a chameleon; a material that can both repel moisture and absorb it, keep you toasty warm or refreshingly cool depending on the outside temperature, and be soft as silk and yet tough enough to resist searing flames. The secret of sheep’s wool rests in its hidden structure . . . wool fibres are cloaked with scales—look at a strand of wool under a microscope and the surface bears an uncanny resemblance to a gnarled tree trunk or a pine cone.”

But she moves beyond the obvious subjects of clothing and food to talk about the social history of sheep, such as the way they have changed our language. In this election season we may hear that someone is a “dyed-in-the-wool conservative” or a “wolf in sheep’s clothing.” We want to be careful not to be “fleeced” by scammers and con men. The idea that black sheep stand out from the rest of the flock, “for good or ill, probably explains the phrase ‘black sheep of the family.'” While the last one is a near universal idea that can be found in languages across the globe, it is ironic that the country with the greatest number of sheep—mainland China—doesn’t use the phrase.

Sheep have also influenced architecture in ways obvious and perhaps more obscure. Shepherds’ huts—once an uncomfortable reality for a working shepherd—have become a go-to destination for those looking for a different type of luxury break. Speaking of her native England, Coulthard observes that many farmers, middlemen, and landowners “made rich by the medieval wool trade went on to build some of the country’s finest houses, guildhalls, and public buildings.”

“And some of England’s prettiest, most chocolate-box towns and villages—places such as Hadleigh, Lavenham, Long Melford, Bury St. Edmunds and Clare in Suffolk, and Chipping Camden, Burford, Stow-on-the-Wold and Bibury in Gloucestershire—owe their embarrassment of architectural riches to the wool trade.”

Chipping Campden WWI memorial
The World War I Memorial, covered with poppies for the D-Day Anniversary, in Chipping Camden

In many of these same communities, those who made their money in the wool trade lavished their wealth on the local house of worship, resulting in parishes which came to be known as “wool churches.” These are some of the most celebrated examples of “medieval craftsmanship and architecture” in England. “There are literally hundreds of them. The county of Norfolk, for example, has 635 alone.”

One of the more fascinating chapters covers the history of sheep in armed conflict. Coulthard points to the animosity between the English crown and the American colonies as one example. In 1699 William III issued the Wool Act which was designed to force the colonies to only import British wool, to ban the exporting of wool out of America, and to tax any sales of wool. The colonists responded by making and wearing “homespun” which “became a mark of defiance and symbol of patriotism.” In fact, Coulthard asserts that “it was the Wool Act of 1699 that sewed the first stitches of rebellion and anger in the colonies that led, ultimately, to America’s Revolutionary War.” But by World War I, England and the US—along with Australia—were all engaged in a “Knit for Victory” campaign to help soldiers survive the cold in the trenches at the front. President Wilson allowed sheep to graze on the grass in front of the White House in a show of solidarity with the knitters, and in just a year and a half, “US citizens knitted over 24 million items of clothing for soldiers.” It had an emotional impact on soldiers as well as those on the home front making their contribution to the war effort.

Sheep and wool are so ubiquitous and beloved that Coulthard devotes a chapter to the “invention of tradition” where Irish sweaters and Scottish kilts are provided with manufactured stories that speak of home, heart, and heritage. Spinning yarns to manufacture myths— just one more example of how sheep continue, here in the 21st century, to shape human civilization.

More to come . . .

DJB

Photo from Getty Images on Unsplash