No less than losing a loved one, a political loss may yield grief. And how shall we respond? (Photo by Vegan Oazïs on Unsplash)
We don’t know who wrote the Old Testament book of Ecclesiastes, though it was traditionally said to be King Solomon, who reigned over Israel some 3,000 years ago. Contemporary linguists doubt that — some words in the text, they note, weren’t in use until hundreds of years after Solomon’s death — so we can’t give due credit to the author of some of the most eloquent and helpful verses of Scripture:
“For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven… a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance… a time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.”1
For many Americans, and for many others around the world who have looked to our democracy for hope or protection, the permission to grieve offered by the writer of Ecclesiastes is welcome just now. This is, in fact, a time to mourn.
Mourning doesn’t befit us just because the candidate we supported didn’t win the presidency, because that’s the sort of mourning you’d expect of, say, Chicago White Sox fans — though, to be clear, one candidate for president this year was considerably more capable at her task than the White Sox were at theirs. Nor are we grieving only because we know that a lot of good policy initiatives of the current administration will be trashed by the next, though that’s reason to be quite sad.
No, while those factors rightly bear on our grief, what troubles us now is more profound than that. We are mourning the loss of America’s identity, and we have doubts about its soul.
The impending return of Donald Trump to the White House suggests that America is not what many of us have thought — or, at least, it isn’t that right now. We are not a land of hope where neighbors take care of neighbors, or where everybody, regardless of race or ethnic origin or beliefs gets an equal shot at achieving their dreams. We aren’t a beacon of democracy and freedom for the rest of the world, a defense against totalitarianism and injustice, and we’re not a place where voters listen to reasoned debate and thoughtfully choose our future course.
This is apparently a nation fueled by grievance and selfishness, entertained by cruelty and hatred, readily accommodating of gross amorality in its leaders. We’d rather have our biases confirmed than our horizons expanded, our myths sustained than our flaws conceded and rectified. We care about ourselves, mostly.
Soon enough, perhaps, we will move on from these bitterly disheartening realizations. Or so we fervently hope. We’ll see what we can do about them, won’t we? We won’t let this be our own final verdict on America.
But not just yet. Right now, it’s mourning in America.
Mourning may seem self-indulgent if you think of it as simply stewing about what has happened, which can’t be changed, of course. Reinhold Niebuhr, a theologian who became one of 20th century America’s leading public intellectuals, is usually credited with writing what’s called the Serenity Prayer: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”2
By the standard of Niebuhr, it seems, we ought to embrace serenity: We cannot change the fact that Donald Trump overcame hurdles that unquestionably would have sidelined any other politician to win the White House, apparently with a majority of the popular vote for the first time in his three attempts. His supporters weren’t dissuaded by two impeachments, multiple indictments and a criminal conviction, a flagrant and constant stream of lies on matters large and small alongside outrageous public pronouncements that violate common standards of decency, and an actual record that ought to have clearly marked his first term as a failure, in its impact on the nation’s security, fiscal stability and public health.
All that was enough to convince voters four years ago to kick Trump out of the White House, but it didn’t keep him from a return to power for what tens of millions of us worry could be a dangerous second term. There’s some comfort in the fact that almost half of American voters opposed Trump, perhaps, but it’s of little practical effect, because the presidency is a winner-take-all proposition. Niebuhr’s prayer suggests there’s wisdom in accepting that fact.
Yet even in these dark days, as many of us await with dread the return of Trump to power, it’s worth weighing what we might change — and what courage is required to act upon that.
Niebuhr’s thinking powered the work of some of the era’s most influential actors, including Martin Luther King Jr. and Barack Obama.3 His critique of society targeted both liberals and conservatives, but he was especially critical of what he considered the sin of pride — a self-centeredness that he saw in individuals, governments and churches. In his 1932 book, Moral Man and Immoral Society, Niebuhr wrote that it is man’s lust for power that often puts us on the wrong side of truth. “We are admonished in Scripture to judge men by their fruits, not by their roots,” he said in one early sermon, “and their fruits are their character, their deeds and accomplishments.” 4
The Americans who are horrified by this year’s election results may find an agenda in that: a call to shape a political movement based on fulfilling the national character we have long imagined as our heritage. It speaks to rebuilding our cities and our rural areas, strengthening our schools and restoring the opportunity for prosperity to those who have lost it over recent decades. We can’t just now imagine exactly what the parameters of that movement might be, of course, or who could be its standard-bearer. Its success will depend upon profound effort, which we know because we have seen how simplistic arguments and distorted viewpoints catch hold in today’s America. Yet it is a fight we must inevitably join.
But not just now. We need a bit of time here.
Most of us have experienced great grief, from the death of a beloved family member, perhaps, or losses due to a disaster. But a political upending may be no less deserving of our mourning, because it affects notions we hold dear, and even some that may be tied up in our identity. The hopes that a candidate carries for many of us aren’t easily replaced when they are squelched by election returns.
Pauline Boss, a 90-year-old psychotherapist and University of Minnesota emeritus professor, coined the term “ambiguous loss” decades ago when she was working with the families of soldiers missing in action. In an interview this week with Scientific American, she discussed the concept in the context of the election season we’ve just been through.
She spoke of the shattered dreams associated with a candidate’s loss, the fear that a world will become a less safe place, the loss of control over our own futures and of support for people we believe are deserving of our help — altogether yielding a “grief that remains unresolved,” she said.
“I think you need to be patient with yourself if you’re feeling angry, sad, grieving right now,” Boss said. “I think that’s a normal reaction to a surprising outcome and an outcome that, in our view, is going backward and not forward.”5
Boss’s words gave me some reassurance. No wonder my sadness just now isn’t something to be easily shaken off, because my relationship to our democracy is a deep one. I am a patriot.
I grew up in the shadow of Mount Rushmore, singing “God Bless America” as floodlights illuminated the monument at nightfall. As a youth, I drew inspiration from two government-sponsored conferences in our nation’s capital, then worked on a presidential campaign as I turned voting age. In my early 20s, I became a congressional aide, then turned to journalism, in a career that focused on government and political coverage. As a reporter and editor, I often told people that giving citizens the information they needed to vote wisely was the most important work I might do for my country. I have raged at the pretenders to honest journalism at such venues as Fox News, which pursue commercial success by pleasing the political biases of their audience.
So, yes, the decision of my fellow citizens to place our nation’s future in the hands of Donald Trump — liar, felon, cheater, thief — is depressing. With many of you, I mourn the loss of hope that accompanies this choice. And just as the memories of lost loved ones crop up unexpectedly even years later, surprising us with a catch in our breath and a swell of tears in our eyes, our regret at this election’s outcome will surely arise again and again in the years to come, as Donald Trump’s malevolence and insecurity play out on national and global stages.
Yet just as with the other losses of our lives, we know that our period of mourning will end. While time doesn’t erase the memories of our lost loved ones, it does dull the cutting edge of the pain of our grief. And then we get on with our lives.
So we will after this loss. We will embrace efforts to bring justice, peace and freedom to as many of our fellow citizens on this earth as we can, and to restore ethical and responsible government to this land. We won’t take it easy; we’ll be committed to the work. I must believe we will succeed. As the writer of Ecclesiastes promised, there will be a time to laugh and love and dance.
Soon. Soon enough. Just now, though, we mourn.
From Ecclesiastes 3 (American Standard Version)
https://www.yalealumnimagazine.com/articles/2143-who-wrote-the-serenity-prayer
https://www.hoover.org/research/niebuhr-and-obama
https://www.commentary.org/articles/richard-neuhaus/reinhold-niebuhr-a-biography-by-richard-fox/
https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/election-grief-is-real-heres-how-to-cope/
NEWSCLIPS FROM THE UPSTATES
Dispatches from our common ground *
Wherein each week we look around what we call the nation’s Upstates — those places just a bit removed from the center of things — to find illuminating news and intriguing viewpoints, which you might not otherwise see.
This week, we share reporting published here:
Salina, Kan. (Salina Journal, salina.com)
Daytona, Fla (Daytona Beach News-Journal, news-journalonline.com)
Visalia, Cal. (Visalia Times Delta, visaliatimesdelta.com)
York, Penn. (York Daily Record, ydr.com)
NOTE: The complete “Newsclips from the Upstates” section, and The Upstate American Midweek Extra Edition, which is sent to email boxes most Wednesdays, are available only to paid subscribers. Thanks for your support!
KANSAS
Another state lining up to ban cell phones in schools
Eight states have passed some form of ban on students using cell phones during school hours. Now, according to reporting in the Salina Journal by Suzanne Perez of Kansas News, Kansas is about to become the ninth. A 36-member task force has voted to recommend that districts prohibit students from using cell phones for the entire school day, including during lunch and passing periods, and require that students store their phones “in a secure location that is not accessible to them during the school day.” The idea is not without controversy. “I need to be able to text my parents … or my boss. If a practice is canceled really last minute, I need to be able to communicate that,” a student task force member said. But the task force, which will soon finalize recommendations to the state Board of Education, seems persuaded to act by connections experts have cited between increased screen time and the epidemic of adolescent mental illness.
FLORIDA
Hurricanes prompt move toward development moratorium
Severe storms that have swept Florida this year are prompting some second thoughts in the state about areas most at risk of flooding — but whether local governments will act remains to be seen. In Daytona Beach, according to reporting by Brenno Carillo in the Daytona Beach News-Journal, the city council is moving toward a one-year moratorium on residential developments citywide — which would exempt commercial and industrial development — and a yearlong ban on building permits that would increase impervious surfaces within the Florida Shores Drainage Basin area, which was hit with destructive flooding during Hurricane Milton. But city staffers noted that adopting either moratorium for more than 12 months could present the city with legal challenges, and officials said the change would need to be considered in light of the city’s longterm development plan.
CALIFORNIA
Bird flu disrupting trade, raising labor concerns
Across California this week, there were 21 people infected with bird flu, according to reporting by Steve Pastis in the Vasilia Times-Delta. That is beginning to affect not only human health, but also international trade: Hong Kong has suspended the import of poultry meat and eggs, specifically citing the outbreak in Tulare County, where 13 of California’s human bird flu cases have been found. In the fight against bird flu, county agencies have focused most of their attention on protecting farm workers from the disease. But there is doubt that we actually know the extent of the problem, because the responsibility now rests with farmers to report incidents of bird flu among their workers and their animals. A United Farm Workers spokeswoman said that workers are “actively avoiding testing,” because they can’t afford the 10-day isolation period without pay that comes with testing positive for bird flu.
PENNSLVANIA
You can bid on a guitar destroyed by Kurt Cobain
Early in 1991, a new band called Nirvana played a gig in Olympia, Wash., and the lead vocalist, Kurt Cobain, closed the show by assaulting his red left-handed guitar onstage. As York Daily Record columnist Mike Argento relates the story, Cobain “attacked it with a hammer, the guitar dying a slow, wailing death through a cranked amp.” There’s quite a story about the guitar’s odyssey since then, but it’s now being offered for sale, Argento reports. Nirvana became the biggest band in the country before Cobain died at 27, a suicide, and the guitar has become a collector’s item — a piece of rock and culture history. Of course, Cobain destroyed a lot of guitars during shows over the years. But if you want this one, take note: The auction started at $20,000 and by Nov. 6, the bidding was up to $82,500. There are still two weeks left to bid online.
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NOW, LEARN TO WRITE OP-EDS
If you’d like to learn how to write opinion essays — for newspapers, audio or digital platforms — check out the live 90-minute class that Rex co-teaches that is offered by Marion Roach Smith’s global platform for writing instruction, The Memoir Project. Click below for information on our upcoming schedule of classes.
Our next class is Wednesday, Nov. 20, at 11:30 a.m. Eastern.
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THANK YOU for reading The Upstate American, and for joining us in the conversation about *our common ground, this great country. I hope you’ll join us again next week — or send a message with ideas you’d like to see us address.
-REX SMITH
I agree totally. I've been mourning since Wednesday. Today, though, I'm just plain angry. I'm a very civil person who tends not to speak when I'm emotional, and I know I can't be civil right now to people I suspect voted for Trump, including some family members who (at least) aren't abrasive Trumpists. "It's about policy," or "We have to protect the oil and gas industry in Texas." Hogwash. It was mostly classism, racism, and misogyny. I'm angry at them, too.
Writing is the best way for me to process my thoughts, though. I've given myself an assignment today: a 2000-word term paper, explaining why I'm so disappointed in the majority of the American population and what I fear will happen as a result of what they've done. Thesis statement, in-text citations, reference list and all. Only credible sources that I will link to so that when I'm questioned about anything I suggest in conversation, I can refer to fact/evidence, not BS conspiracies or Faux News talking points. Sorry. I'm a little upset... Thanks for your well-articulated post.
Sadly, the regular people who voted for Trump and the republican congressmen and senators will suffer. Sadder still they will never know it was their votes that brought their misery.