I was struck a few days ago, sitting in the Commons of Buchanan with friends, taking in the festivities of another Pride event. Enjoying the beauty of the moment, I smiled as attendees of all ages laughed and danced. I watched as the community gathered together to celebrate the fact that we’re all just humans trying to live our lives and get by and have some joy while we’re here. I felt the love in the air of people feeling both free to be themselves and acknowledging the right of those around them to the do the same. I’ve attended many of these events and felt these feelings countless times, but what struck me in the moment was the contrast.
In so many ways, we have progressed as a society. We live in a moment in when Pride events are the norm and, perhaps the most telling (and troubling) sign in a capitalist system, such movements have been tied to branding, a sign that corporate powers recognize the shift in the tide. Once you’re a part of the ad campaign in a free market, you know you’ve made it.
It wasn’t long ago when such things were unimaginable. No one was “out” when I was in high school. Gender conformity was hardly a concept in any discourse I encountered, public or private. A rewatch of many of my favorite films from my younger years shows just how painfully insensitive we all were about anyone different than the “norm”.
We have progressed.
But, that’s not the contrast I was thinking of.
On Monday, July 1st, the United States Supreme Court handed down a ruling granting an incredible amount of power to the office of the President, pushing the furthest yet the idea of the Executive Branch as one with powers above and beyond the will of the people.
This week, the Heritage Foundation, one of the leading groups in right-leaning political thought, made additional allusions to the justification of violence against those who disagree with them. This was not some random antifa person on TikTok attempting to legitimize “punching a racist”. This was yet another call from the top for extreme behavior, part of an increasing and disturbing trend of those who set the tone, those the rest of us look to for examples of acceptable behavior (they’re called “leaders” for a reason), piping their way to madness while we all parade along behind them.
And, on the eve of this Independence Day, and hardly a surprising result to the above, I saw the common person on social media (the place where compassion goes to die) calling for the jailing of those opposed to their viewpoints. I saw shrugs to discussions of seemingly inevitable violence. I saw people I know (and care for?) spewing hatred and elevating such as their Constitutional right.
The contrast is that of hope versus fear.
I sat in the Commons, surrounded by love, and forgot for a moment the fires raging around us. And I’m still unsure what it means.
Is there hope in the idea that so many gathered to celebrate their fellow human and the right to exist, live, and thrive (true freedom)? I sure hope so. But what does that do to the increasing feeling that violence seems likely, regardless of election outcomes? How does that counter the fact that a man who may be our leader in a matter of months seems intent to take the above progress away? How does that stand up against how we, as individuals, seemingly see each other less and less as human?
I recall, when the reality of Donald Trump as a viable presidential candidate set in, being told I was alarmist when stating how dangerous he was as a leader. I was laughed at for a variety of warnings, including saying he wouldn’t leave at the end of his term. One-by-one, each of those warnings came to pass and, if not for the few adults left in the room after the 2020 election, Donald Trump would be our President right now, despite the will of the people.
I’m ever the optimist in the room, but since the election of 2016, I’ve struggled with the current of cynicism pulling at me. I feel more and more helpless, even as I do the things; the voting, the activism, the community work. The adults in the room have fled, retired, or converted to join the madness. It’s all so frightening.
At Pride, there was love in the air. In the distance, the smoke of the raging fire of our democratic struggle blotted the sky. Which will overcome?
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