To What Do We Owe This Displeasure?

One year ago today I watched in stunned silence on television as a mob of U.S. citizens stormed their own Capitol and attempted to overthrow the election of our next president. I cried, nearly sobbed uncontrollably at the very sight of this unthinkable chain of events. Only it was totally thinkable. A few weeks prior to January 6 I sat chatting, ironically, in the comfort of my hairdresser’s chair and said “The day Congress counts the Electoral College votes…I am very worried what might happen that day…I predict they will try to stop it…I think it’s going to turn violent.”

Let me be clear, I am not involved with, or privy to, any type of information beyond the public domain. And even within that domain, I don’t ferret out information about politics at all. I especially don’t know anyone involved with or remotely affiliated with those acts that took place at the Capitol on January 6. And yet, I was somehow able to very accurately predict, weeks in advance, precisely what happened from a very comfortable (in every sense) distance. Based on my prior prediction, I had my eyes peeled on television coverage of the U.S. Capitol all day long on January 6, 2021 – well before the riot started. As events unfolded I cried over what I saw, and as much I wept over the fact I was right about it.

Maybe it’s because I live in Wisconsin, a ‘swing state,’ and maybe it’s because I live in the City of Madison where we are routinely chided by much of the state for our progressive politics. Maybe it’s because I grew up in the more conservative rural area that exists in the shadow of this liberal city. Maybe it’s because some of my extended family doesn’t share my political views, to say the least. Maybe it’s because I’ve witnessed the imperfections of both sides of the political spectrum living in the capital of this very divided state. Perhaps all of these experiences offered more opportunities to do so, but I don’t think they explain my ability to precisely predict what would happen.

I think that more likely I could predict what would happen because I observed some of the profound discontent that fueled the insurrection. And no, I don’t mean bogus election fraud claims. I mean the frustration coming from a perception that politics has devolved into mere big money political posturing and no one in power cares about ‘us.’ This has been coupled with (or perhaps emerged from) the broader collapse of a social contract enabling both civil discourse and mutual respect, along with the necessary caretaking, that is foundational to our civil society — let alone our democracy. When the concepts of civility and mutual caretaking disappear on democracy’s watch, we all suffer the impact on a very personal level and we risk losing sight of how sacred our democracy really is to us. We grow skeptical of democracy because it failed to protect us — from ourselves. That’s where our internal logic breaks down and we see things like what happened on January 6.

Our democracy is far from perfect because it is a product and a reflection of who we are. It is not separate from us, it IS us. For better or worse. Democracy can change for the better just like we can change as individuals and as a society, but it’s similarly difficult to do so. It can also fail just as we do. Success is achievable though with opportunity, intention and persistence; and no other government works that way. What an amazing concept that is, truly. And when I think about people who come to our country (or emerge from within) embracing this wonderful concept with all of their heart; I know we have a renewed opportunity to grow with their participation.

By contrast, the only thing authoritarians offer is the assurance that we will never have any power to change the way things are. For better or worse — mostly worse. Authoritarianism only seems like it could be better when we suffer under a delusion that our current circumstances can’t get worse. They can always get worse, right up until we cease to exist. One of the central tenets of authoritarianism is being in power while not having to take time to really care about other people. Great for quick decision-making, terrible for good decision-making. Ask any homemaker and they will tell you that taking care of people the way they need to be cared for is time-consuming, messy, chaotic, emotional, inefficient and occasionally breathtakingly wonderful. In sum, it’s the exact opposite of what happens in authoritarian systems. Caring about others is what’s necessary to doing what’s right by them. In failing to care we deny ourselves and others the opportunity to experience the greatest joys of our existence.

Democracy assures us we always have the option to change if we choose it. We have to stop blaming democracy for our problems, and we have to stop wasting time blaming each other. We have to stop blaming ourselves at some point too; and instead take responsibility for changing the way things are because it reflects who we are. Regardless of personal or political affiliation, there are plenty of folks who need to stop acting like selfish jerks. We all need to stop glorifying people who get power or money while acting like selfish jerks. We need to stop running elections with money supplied by those rich, powerful and selfish jerks who are only interested in candidates who enable them. If we don’t like what elected people do, then we need to get better informed and vote accordingly. But most importantly while we work on ourselves and our democracy, we need to make sure no one kills our democracy while acting out of spite toward one another. We need to make sure everyone can vote and we need to make sure no one gets away with cheating or lies about who won. And we have to accept the outcome, for better or worse, until we thankfully get another chance to get things right.