Don't Cancel Thanksgiving

The day after the election, I read a startling post on Facebook by a former student, “Leslie,” someone I knew was a Trump supporter. I hadn’t eaten, slept, or cried since understanding that Kamala had lost. I was pacing my living room, unable to make a decision, unable to think clearly, unable to fully process what had happened. I kept picking up my phone, doomscrolling, hyperventilating, putting it down. One time when I had the phone in my hand, I saw Leslie’s post, which had an orange background with just one hashtag as the text: “#DaddysHome.” My muscles seized and my heart dropped into my belly. Really? Smart Leslie, determined Leslie, the Leslie I had coached through so much struggle to her A+ in English Composition-this Leslie, my Leslie, had posted that? I can’t do this, I thought. I just can’t. So, without much thinking, I clicked the button and blocked her.

Like many of you, I worked on the Harris Walz campaign, and, like many of you, I was devastated by the election results. Since last week, I’ve been avoiding the news, but I’ve been unable to fully pry myself away from social media. Naturally, I’m seeing posts from progressive Americans full of shock, sadness, and terror. I’m also reading about many other progressive Americans deciding to cut ties with their Trump-supporting friends and relatives. Obviously, I deeply understand the impulse.

As an abuse survivor, a Jew, a person on the spectrum, and a queer woman, feeling safe is essential to my survival as well as my mental health. Keeping my inner world full of people I trust just makes sense.

And yet. 

As subscribers know, my focus is relationships. I believe that connecting with others offers the best promise of human evolution, and I’m highly concerned by the recent social trend of cutoffs. Leaders of fascist regimes pit ordinary people against one another. They’ve already done this in the United States, and very successfully. If those at the top convince ordinary folks that the other is subhuman, violence becomes acceptable.

The billionaires are the real enemy, not our neighbors. Cutting people off is a form of dehumanization, in a literal way. We’re denying the fact that those humans exist. In spite of the difficulty implied, and I don’t underestimate that challenge, I think cutoffs ultimately cause more harm to everyone, individuals, families, communities, and societies. Staying in touch with appropriate boundaries gives us the greatest chance of both surviving and evolving out of this highly dangerous moment.

We Learn To Manage Difference in Relationship

It’s easy to be loving and accepting when we surround ourselves with people with similar values. What happens when I learn that Alma, the new hire at work, is from a culture that embraces corporal punishment for its children, something I’m vehemently against? I am forced to interact with someone who does something I judge as harmful. I need to find ways to manage the cognitive dissonance, something essential for life in a diverse culture. I need to find a way to both be myself and make space for her. Maybe in the course of our work together, I notice that she’s a brilliant orator. Maybe she’s the one who consistently picks up shifts when someone calls in sick. Maybe she brings me birthday gifts for my son. If I’m forced to engage with her, I am likely to see her in shades of grey; it’s a lot harder to dehumanize her. 

Interacting with those we judge is the only way we learn how to craft relationships in which there is significant difference. Building the skills only happens when we’re engaged.

This is not comfortable. Real learning never is.

We Evolve and Grow in Relationship

This flows from my first point. When I embrace all the contradictions that define human experience, I naturally begin judging less. Being in relationship offers us the opportunity to see ourselves, to see how we react in real time to real stress and real difficulty. If we are defensive, if we get violent, we can see those qualities as aspects of human nature. We learn more about ourselves and, if we take the opportunity, we can evolve into beings that own our whole selves, which inevitably means judging less.

Being in relationship also teaches us how to grow compassion in spite of significant difference. A friend of mine just lost a dear aunt. My friend, a retired physician, took care of her aunt for two months before she passed. The aunt was a fervent Trump supporter and my friend a staunch liberal Democrat. They bridged the gap and adored one another. My friend was able to see how her aunt’s bitterness about her own life and her religious commitment informed her political views. She was able to have compassion for her aunt, in spite of disagreement.

I don’t think it’s possible to do this outside of relationship. And the more different someone is from us, the greater the opportunity to grow. Yes, there’s also the danger that instead, we lean into our flaws and our most harmful qualities. That just goes with the territory. It’s not for the faint of heart. But it is the path that will help us grow into the next better versions of ourselves, which will help American society move beyond the polarization that has imprisoned us all.

We Are Safer in Relationship

Imagine you are facing a police officer who is tasked with roughing up the queer community. Imagine the officer in front of you is your cousin, James, whom you cut off for his beliefs six months prior. Now, imagine that same scenario, only without the cutoff; imagine you just babysat James’ kids the night before so he could go play tennis. James will feel very differently, depending on your relationship. I’m not saying he won’t hurt you. I am saying he’s a lot less likely to act badly if he has positive relationships with the people he’s tasked with assaulting.

We can look at this with a less extreme example. While living in the northeast kingdom in Vermont, Erin and I befriended a couple who are born-again Christians. They have been part of several large evangelical communities, and before us, they had never met queer people. We had one very frank conversation in which the woman, Rhonda, suddenly turned to me at supper and asked, “So what does queer actually mean?” She then asked more questions she had been wondering about but had been too embarrassed to ask. I’m certain that when the LGBTQ issue comes up for them in their circles, they will think of Erin and me. Because Rhonda adored both of us, her community’s views on queer people will be at odds with her experience. She will experience at least some cognitive dissonance. In the same way, I no longer have an exclusively negative idea of born again Christians. This is huge. With a person attached to a label, it becomes harder to hate, to dehumanize. This operates at all levels of society, including government, business, family, and community.

It’s not about kissing up or tolerating abuse. I would never encourage anyone to do that. I am a huge proponent of boundaries. It’s much more challenging than a cutoff, but that is the work we need to engage with if we want to lessen the danger of the moment.

We Are Mentally Healthier When We Acknowledge Reality

As a child, I witnessed my mother’s strategy for dealing with conflict, which was cutting people off. She cut off my aunt and uncle, she cut off my grandparents, and she cut off her own best friend. This struck me as a strategy of denial: telling someone you don’t ever want to speak to them is like pretending they don’t exist. Creating subhuman categories like “evil” or “sick,” while soothing, prevents us from being in touch with parts of humanity we don’t like, qualities like rage, violence, cruelty. Is it scary to be open to those qualities? You bet. If those qualities are human, it means we might have them inside of us. But if we dehumanize parts of our species’ nature, things spiral. There’s nothing more enraging than being dehumanized. When we’re enraged, we’re far more likely to dehumanize others in response. 

This is a strategy similar to drinking or getting high. It blocks the natural maturing process, leaving us with limited coping skills. We also become more and more inclined to use that one strategy, quitting jobs, breaking up friendships, and moving instead of dealing directly with conflict. Take it from someone who has been there. Facing conflict was terrifying for me to learn. Facing my own or someone else’s anger was akin to a death threat. But as I’ve grown more and more competent at talking things through, working on my own self-regulation, leaning on physical exercise to funnel my anger, and simply becoming more confident, my life and relationships have opened up and become larger. I feel safer because I’m more skilled at making good choices. I don’t have to avoid conflict, so I can participate in social life more fully.

There’s something about the capacity to maintain connection through hard times that’s a sign of maturity. In my adult novel, Falling Through the Night, my protagonist, Audrey, has a frank conversation with her best friend Jessica about the nature of being healthy in relationship. Her girlfriend has asked to take a break in their relationship, and Audrey is afraid this means the relationship will fail. Jessica says that all relationships have lifespans, and Audrey disagrees: “Healthy people stay together. Period.” Although I tend to side with Jessica, I also believe that Audrey has a point. Cutoffs as a primary strategy for dealing with conflict simply don’t work. When we’re able to find ways to work through difficult moments, our relationships become stronger and healthier, as do we as individuals.

When Someone is the Adult, Relationship Dynamics Can Shift

“But wait,” you say, “I’m not dehumanizing. It’s them! Why do I have to be the grownup?” This is a strong argument. Acceptance of difference is, for me, a much more mature and adult way of being in the world. And yet, I believe that the circumstances that drove Trump supporters to that position are likely dehumanizing ones. Although I can’t get into someone’s skin, I know that when I’ve behaved badly, it either came from an unmet need, a habit that I’ve outgrown, or ignorance, all things that can change. No, it’s not fair, but the person who’s more mature needs to step up.

Also, our positions on issues evolve and change. Have you ever heard of Daryl Davis? He’s a Black American musician and activist who befriended KKK leaders, becoming curious about how they developed the beliefs they held. He is also responsible for over 200 KKK members abandoning those same beliefs. Here is a great article about his work. Did Davis have to be the “adult” in that situation? Definitely. But look at the profound positive impact of his choice. If our only response to dehumanization is more dehumanization, the cycle will continue spiraling into more and more violence.

***

If you’re considering cancelling Thanksgiving, unfriending Facebook contacts, or cutting off ties with Republican relatives, I’m asking you to reconsider. Think about being strategic as you decide who to stay in touch with. You don’t have to talk politics; figure out if there are topics that feel good to connect with. Ask yourself what kinds of boundaries you need, and set them. Many families going into the holidays are anxious given our country’s political divide. Propose making holiday gatherings no-politics zones. Let your relatives know that they are important to you and that your family matters; you also need to take care of yourself and you would like to keep the focus on other topics. Decide in advance what you’ll do if someone breaks the agreement. You can be clear and calm and let folks know in advance that you’ll need to leave if the conversation goes into areas you’re not open to discussing.

Most people, yes, even conservatives, are able to grow and shift in their beliefs. If they have positive connections with people like us that are unrelated to politics, they will have the opportunity and the reason to reconsider their positions. We will be able to do the same. Dehumanization as a phenomenon will lose power. It’s an extremely vulnerable position, but I firmly believe it’s the only thing that can make a dent in the situation we’re in.

If you want to do this kind of relationship work in community, there are two organizations I know of to check out. The first is One Small Step and the second is Braver Angels. Both facilitate conversations across the political divide as well as provide many different opportunities to think beyond our bubbles. I tried to set up a one-on-one conversation through Braver Angels and ran up against an administrative snafu, so I’ve reached out to One Small Step. This is a great article written by one of the founders of One Small Step with suggestions for engaging with people from the “other side.” I’d be very interested in hearing about readers’ experiences with these two groups or others.

After writing the first draft of this article, I wanted to reach out to Leslie, my former student with the awful Facebook post. I’ll invite her for a Zoom chat, I thought. We can talk about school and her nail business and our pets and her promotion. It can be just a regular human-to-human conversation. But what I didn’t know is that if you block someone on Facebook, their profile never appears again, even if you do a search. I tried looking for her on other platforms but wasn’t successful. I’m going to try to find a snail mail address for her, and in the meantime, I’ve certainly learned from my mistake. Maybe next week, I’ll reach out to Rhonda, my Christian friend, to see if she wants to meet for a virtual coffee.