You and I

“Here we are / On earth together/ It’s You and I”

You and I by Stevie Wonder

What I wanted to do on January 6th was post something definitive online.  Something smart and provoking. Something angry and edgy.  Something that would awaken people to how brainwashed they are. 

Watching the videos that came out of the insurrection – I wasn’t surprised. I wasn’t devastated.  It felt inevitable because of Trump’s careless demonization of anyone who doesn’t fully agree with him.  His arrogance.  The mocking way he talks about human beings. This was the danger of who he is - this was always the danger. His words have always been violent and provoking.

It would have been easy to post something angry, hateful, dismissive that day. It would have felt good to take a strong stance on a solid platform, but it wouldn’t have been right or true to how I really feel (even though I would have felt that momentary elation of naming my temporary feelings and joining the chorus of opinions). 

As I watched clips of people scaling the walls of the Capitol Building I thought, “Here we are. On Earth together. It’s You and I.”

I wasn’t thinking of Stevie Wonder’s classic love song because I felt anything close to love, but because I was at a loss and when I am at a loss, I reach for the facts. Those first lines of Stevie Wonder’s song are True. Here we are. On Earth together. It’s those people storming the Capitol — and I.

Because I believe all humans have God-given intrinsic value and that we have all been put here for a specific time and purpose, posting something dismissive and angry would have been a direct violation to my core belief. I want to speak, write, live like I believe in everyone’s inherent value - to make it manifest in all those ways. In my mind, the best ways to express it do not include violence to others. Not physically, not emotionally, not in speech, not in words, not in actions. Violence includes anything that dehumanizes, dismisses, devalues.  It includes judging as though I fully understand what it is to live someone else’s life which is something I can never do.

I am free to think the people who believe in Trump are idiots, assholes, hateful, evil. I am free to think anything I want about them, but my quick, easy judgement of them puts me in a place I don’t want to be in.  When I judge (especially when I judge events I’m not involved with and only know about through the internet), I elevate myself to the judge’s seat where my ways are above others and that is not true. It’s too quick and clean to lump everyone together and dismiss them as a whole. It is a kind of hate and violence I do my best not to give into.

Last summer when George Floyd was murdered, Candace Owens, a conservative commentator, posted a video in which she listed Floyd’s criminal record, citing his crimes to support her idea that Floyd’s death did not deserve the attention it received. To me it is simple. George Floyd mattered because he was born and he was a human being living on this planet.  He had family that loved him. He died in a horrible way that affected the lives of countless people and there is no way to get rid of that impact (as much as people may try). People who believe like Candace Owens think a person has to live a certain kind of life to matter. That’s an easy trap to fall into.

How many of us have been caught there?

Perfection, comparison, justification, ego, self-righteousness, the simplicity of “Good” and “Bad.” Reasons to dismiss and belittle others. Reasons for hate and jealousy. Reasons to hate and devalue ourselves.

Our world is full of conflicting messages. There have been lots of calls for unity the last few weeks, but how can we create unity if no one will bring up uncomfortable conversation? Or if no one is willing to listen? How do we create space for vulnerability when our society is obsessed with being the best and knowing the most?

How do we navigate all there is ahead of us?

I don’t know.

But Here we are. On earth together. It’s you and I.

I’m wrestling with these things.  Belonging, effort, action and inaction. What’s mine and what is not for me. Grace. Love. Hope. There’s a place for it all and while I’m trying to figure out where these things go, I am trying to be in love with humanity with all it’s flaws and missteps, all its quick judgements and idiotic moves. I’m trying to extend this love and grace to myself. I am trying to limit the amount of violence I put into this planet.

Stevie’s song ends, “In my mind, we can conquer the world. In love, you and I. You and I. You and I.”

It won’t be easy, or painess, but it’s possible. And that possibility is enough reason to sing a love song to the world.