Tag: unity

Better Together

Recent weather has rocked our country to its core. Monster hurricanes recently packed a one-two punch in Texas and Florida, causing life-threatening flooding and property damage.

These images from these areas have been heartbreaking. As someone who has lived in both states, I’ve found it overwhelmingly sad to see streets turned rivers, homes turned to rubble and prosperity turned to widespread despair.

Through it all, I kept thinking one thing, “I wish there was more I could do to help.”

Turns out, I’m not alone.

You’ve probably heard the stories by now — the Cajun Navy taking to the streets of Houston to save lives of those threatened by rising waters. All the volunteers helping Florida get back on their feet. People helping people, regardless of color, creed or political affiliation.

This is how it should be. This is how we were meant to be. So why are we only this way in the wake of an Act of God?

If there’s one thing that upsets me more than seeing an image of a woman being rescued from her roof, life as she knows it permanently altered, it’s seeing that image juxtaposed against another one of Tiki-Torch bearing Neo-Nazis storming a college campus in Virginia. Both these scenes played out within weeks of each other — and that’s a bad look for America.

Yes, it certainly appears we’re embracing divisiveness over unity, and only changing our tune in times of crisis. This leaves an open question as to what type of people we really are.

Are we undercover bigots who feign a spirit of inclusivity in times of trouble to boost social acceptance? Or are we good-hearted people who lack the guts to stand up to the angry voices that threaten to tear us apart?

I hope to God the second answer is the correct one. But it doesn’t really matter.

As the saying goes, “The evil we must fear the most is the indifference of good-hearted people.”

We are all part of the problem — in part because we’re afraid to commit to being part of the solution.

As I think back 16 years ago, to blue September skies suddenly shrouded by smoke and fire in New York City, I don’t just think of the horrific scenes of those towers falling. I don’t just think of those images of people jumping from 79th story windows, of people running from a cloud of rubble 200 feet high.

No, I think of what came after. Of the President addressing first responders through a bullhorn with the words, “The nation sends its love and compassion to all of you.” Of the country rallying to boost the spirits of New York and Washington — both of which had lost so much to an act of evil. Of strangers treating strangers with kindness and compassion, no matter their differences.

I wish to God that 9/11 had never happened. It will haunt me for the rest of my life.

But I also wish that spirit I saw in the months that followed would have stuck around.

After all, we’ve proven time and again that we can rally for each other when its needed most. But truthfully, unity always needed.

We owe it to those lost to 9/11, Katrina, Harvey, Irma —we owe it to all of them to be better. To put aside our differences and be as one, even after the smoke has cleared and the water recedes.

Most of all, we owe it to ourselves, and to our collective future. For it’s how we act between the storms, when the world isn’t watching, that will truly define our destiny.

So, let’s write that narrative. Together.

I Believe

What happens when it all goes wrong?

We should know. We’ve been living that scenario for some time now.

Our society stands divided, perhaps more than it has in a generation. And our divisions have never been more visible or more evident.

There are no winners in a divisive society; we all stand to lose. If you don’t believe that now, take a closer look at what has happened to us.

All of this is far from ideal — the polar opposite of it, in fact. By accepting a world where facts don’t matter, a world where the opinions of bullies drown out the truth, we set ourselves down a dangerous path. After all, an authoritarian view is seldom a representative view of a society.

The more we feed into this cycle, the worse it gets. Distrust is like mold — once it sets in, it’s hard to eradicate. Rebuilding the bridges we’ve burned will take time, and the project will become impossible if we lose our way completely.

Take all this into account, and our situation might seem dark. Hopeless even.

But I still believe.

I believe in righteousness. That Do Unto Others resonates deep down for us, and always will.

I believe in unity. That what brings us together is ultimately stronger than what drives us apart.

I believe in truth. That we will naturally gravitate toward our foundation of facts, even when they’re not in our favor.

I believe in joy. That anger and hatred are but temporary, and that love and happiness sustain us.

And most of all, I believe in good.

Why do I believe in all this? Because these attributes have driven us forward since the beginning of time. And because we’ve consistently chosen them for the long haul.

Think about it. While we can trace moments of evil all the way back to the Garden of Eden, they’ve been just that — moments. Horrifying, devastating moments, but moments nonetheless.

You see, evil is like a wildfire. It can spark suddenly and destroy everything in its path, but it will ultimately burn itself out.

But goodness is both sustainable and everlasting. It will rise above wickedness every time.

Goodness represents the path we should choose. And while we sometimes go astray, we always find our way back on course.

So, while our present might seem bleak, and while we have a lot of work ahead to mend those broken fences, we shouldn’t give up on tomorrow. For the promise of a brighter day is still ahead of us.

I believe this, with all my heart.

Do you?

Navigating a Complex Society

As I reflect on the state of our society, one thought lingers:

I feel lost.

Not in a dark and hopeless way. More in the sense of: Where do we go from here?

The roadmap used to seem so simple: Do the right thing, connect with each other, grow as one. But there are layers of complexity making that path much more obscure.

Consider this:

  • We aim to build bridges across cultural divides in pursuit of a common good. Yet, by ignoring those cultural divides altogether, we ruin all the goodwill we’ve built.
  • We strive to care about each other and share a goal of a brighter future. Yet, by caring too much, our partisanship serves to divide and alienate.
  • We seek to trust others and find solace in their best intentions. Yet, blind trust easily exposes us to exploitation.

Shades of gray are everywhere. And they make the principle of unity seem as unfeasible as it is noble.

You see, striving for a common good requires us to rally around what we share, and use empathy to connect over what we don’t. But that connection only goes so deep. As a white man in Texas, I can’t pretend to understand the plight of a black woman in California. There are barriers of geography, skin color, gender and upbringing — along with 400 years of ugly historical constructs.

I can’t break through that barrier; neither can she. Even as we each strive to build a better future for our collective society, our differences remain a visible scar.

How do we build off this? How can we accept and celebrate our differences without letting the presence of that divide – and its associated fear, mistrust and isolation — destroy us?

I don’t know. But I know we need to try.

We must seek to get a better grasp on the complexities of our society. We must discover what unifies us and what divides us. We must understand what we should rally around together and what we should respectfully leave be. And we must build upon what we share without whitewashing that which we don’t.

This process will be difficult and uncomfortable. But it will help us remove the divisive stench of racism, misogyny and xenophobia — three ugly results of our unwillingness to come to terms with a complex society.

It will take a lot more than truly understanding the real ground rules of how we create to each other if we want to build a brighter future for everyone. But we owe it to ourselves to at least take that first step forward.

The Trials of Our Time

About a week ago, I wrote a blog article that was meant to be shared here. The article was about Dallas — how it is so often misunderstood, how what makes it special is hidden behind the stereotypical perceptions held by outsiders and whether all of this even matters.

I believe in every word of that article. But it will have to wait for another time.

As I was reading over my completed draft of that article, a nightmare was unfolding less than 20 miles away, in the heart of downtown Dallas. A peaceful protest against police brutality was suddenly ambushed by a barrage of bullets, aimed by a sniper at the officers on duty in the area. Five officers lost their lives in the attack, while seven others — plus two civilians — sustained injuries. It was quite possibly the most heinous incident in Dallas since President Kennedy was gunned down at Dealey Plaza — a mere two blocks from the most recent atrocity — more than 50 years ago.

The past few days have, admittedly, been difficult for me. I reckon they’ve been difficult for all North Texans. And while I’m no stranger to the emptiness left by senseless tragedy — having been in New York City on 9/11 and having covered some awful stories during my news media career — the pain I feel is different this time, in part because the situation is so much more complex.

You’ve probably heard commentary from countless angles over the violent events of the first week of July 2016 by now. This is not another piece of angled commentary. It’s a narrative I hope is shared by so many who are deeply disturbed by these recent events, but are also weighed down by the balance of perspective.

Given the perilous state of our society, I feel it’s my duty to share this narrative here.

***

“Dallas is a city that loves.”

Those words from Dallas Police Chief David Brown the day after the city’s most heinous attack in decades.

He’s right.

Despite the bad rap Dallas gets elsewhere — including the derogatory “New York of Texas” moniker given by the folks down I-35 apiece — this is one of the friendliest places I’ve ever called home. Strangers are genuinely kind and respectful, and friends have treated me like family.

While Dallas’ official tourism slogan is “Big Things Happen Here,” I’ve long thought it should read “Your Life Matters Here.” Aside from New York, I’ve rarely seen a more diverse and inclusive region; in fact, I personally feel Dallas is more openly diverse than Miami — a city that considers itself “The Gateway to the Americas”.

Of course, “Your Life Matters Here” brings us to the heart of the recent tragedies.

There is a define trend of African American men losing their lives at the hands of law enforcement in this country. It is real, it is disturbing and it must be properly addressed.

But the Dallas Police Department, by and large, has not been a part of this trend. Serving a city that, despite its welcoming attitude, is far from perfect — a city that still features its share of bad neighborhoods and violent crime — the department has made great strides to fulfill their duties without creating a culture of racial prejudice displayed in Ferguson, Saint Paul, Baton Rouge and even New York.

But that didn’t matter to one former member of the U.S. Army, a man who looked down at white and Hispanic men in badges and saw red.

He didn’t just take the lives of five men who were doing their job by protecting a group of people who were protesting atrocities committed by their own profession, he took the lives of five North Texans. Men who had families. Men who made plenty of sacrifices just to join the police force. Men who truly cared about the community they served. Men who would stop pro athletes to take a photo with them, just as other North Texans would.

Heck, some of the men and women he targeted had stopped to pose for pictures with the protesters momentsearlier. But that didn’t matter to this sniper, who had categorically picked them for extermination.

And that is why I take this incident so personally.

I am not black. I am not in law enforcement. So I don’t know what it’s like to have a continual target on my back. But the thought of being systematically categorized and eliminated based off something as basic as my skin tone or line of work is unconscionable. It’s a risk all my friends with darker skin tones face continually, and one that all my friends and acquaintances in law enforcement must be aware of as well. And it’s a situation that cost five officers — five of my extended neighbors — their lives.

We cannot let this continue. For if we do, we’re heading for a path of self-destruction. Coast to coast, the racial divide is as bad right now as I’ve ever seen it in my life. Distrust is high and violent confrontation has taken hold. We’re on the brink of a total meltdown that would annihilate everything good our society has ever stood for.

These are the trials of our time, and we must deal with them.

We must take the steps to come together and save ourselves. The angry voices on the edge need not take the lead; that’s the responsibility of those in the middle — the ones who care about fair treatment for all, but have done little to speak up so far.

We must put aside our differences and unite against hate, against prejudice and against this horrific violence.

***

As I turned onto the Woodall Rodgers Freeway the other night, I noticed the iconic Dallas skyline, decked out in blue in honor of the fallen officers. It was a beautiful, captivating sight — but also a melancholy one. Our city is certainly hurting right now, but we will endure.

Our society must make the changes needed to do the same.