Thank you for this Rita. I'm in a horrible place at the moment - reading my own words as a quote and as part of such an intelligent, considered essay has soothed my troubled soul a little. Xx
I'm so sorry to hear that you're in a horrible place. Your words truly helped me tolerate mine in recent days. I'm glad to be able to return the favor, even if in a small way. Isn't that what our writing is for? Or at least, one of the things it is for. Please take care, as you can.
Oh, Rita. So many thoughts. This is such a moving piece, and I know it took hours of consideration, research, and heart-to-brain mining to bring it into being. So, first, thank you for all of that. For being willing to invest yourself in that effort. And thank you for teaching your children to analyze and ask questions, for opening worlds to so many kids across your years in education, and for being the kind of person who looks the down-trodden in the eye and offers them what you can in the moment. The way I see it, that’s all any of us can do — offering what we can in the moment, moving within our spheres of influence.
We can’t know how or whether our actions will change anything permanently, but we can be fairly certain they will make a difference in the short term, as you have done with this essay for me. As you have done by giving away food. As you have done by continuing to believe in the possibility of making a difference.
When I focused, in that recent essay, on the concept of talking with others as a solution to all that ails us, I could perhaps have done more to offer it as one of many possible avenues to affect change. It’s simple, yes, and not a perfect solution. But I believe we can find connection that way, and that connection is a driver for hope and belonging, and that it is one of the only tools that we all have in common, that costs little and gives much. So it’s something we can DO, when we feel (as so many of us do) that we must DO SOMETHING. Thanks for bearing with my long-winded reply. Thanks for your words, Rita, and for your heart.
It might not have come through in this essay, but yours was tremendously helpful to me. I wish I'd done a better job of conveying that. First, you articulated an idea that had been banging around in my head for a bit, but you made a case for it, and I so appreciated that. Then, something in your words got me to realize that the writing we do here can be considered a kind of conversation. (Living my now-small life in a very blue city in a blue state means that I don't have many conversations with those who see things much differently from me, so talking with those I encounter IRL rarely feels like doing SOMETHING.) You helped me make some peace with the reality that we can't all do all the things, but should still do the things we can. I wish I were the kind of person who can organize others and do action-actions and make big kinds of things happen, but I'm not. (It's not what I'm built for.) I even wish, often, that I could produce a different kind of writing--the kind full of information and cogent arguments that illuminate problems and corruption and all of that. But I'm not that kind of writer, either. I'm more poet than journalist, a thing I have struggled with for decades now.
Thank you so much for seeing me and my work in such a generous light. Yes, this piece was. hours and days in the making. (And I'm so glad to release it! Even if I know it could still be better!) You noticing that increases my feeling of connection with you, and you are so right that "connection is a driver for hope and belonging...that costs little and gives much."
And here we are...talking with one another. Granted, we already had a pretty solid sense of how the other might react, which makes it less intimidating. Let's keep lifting up the voices that seem to favor unity, no matter what we know about the person. They're definitely out there. And as far as I'm concerned, unity does not require that we all agree on everything. It sounds so easy on "paper." All we can do is continue to try.
I know! 🙂 For me, at this point, I can unify with folks who believe in democracy and want it to continue. This means supporting the practices and people that support it. I miss that being a given in our political landscape.
Powerful food for thought here, linking the shifting baselines of our degraded ecology to the our degraded democracy and society. It's hard not to have anger course through our veins for all of it... I remember when Trump was elected I checked out completely, got off of Facebook, stopped reading the paper, just stuck my head in the sand. It was the only way I could heal myself and eventually bring a child into the world. I've reengaged since then with world events, but will never regret tuning it all out for that period of time.
I think there are times when we have to tune out for our own self-preservation. I could not work in my roles in education without being deeply immersed in what was happening (because it was happening to our kids and their families), and that only intensified during the pandemic. When I left (which I didn't really do for a full year, as I took a part-time teaching job after "retiring"), I mostly checked out, in all the ways you describe. Like you, I needed to heal. I'm still in the process of doing that, and trying to find some balance. It's not easy or comfortable. In Jeannine Ouellette's essay that I linked to in the end, there is a section that talks about coming out of anesthesia, and it feels like that for me.
I know that any of us with an ounce of morality in our souls are appalled by what has been happening politically in this country. And that, like your friend said, many people don’t want to acknowledge that they're part of the problem so talking with them is frustrating. I have no solutions to any of the issues you addressed in this post, but I do know that I continue to model the behavior I want to see in others. Will this make any difference? I can hope so.
I hope so, too. One of the things that is so hard for me is that I do know some folks who have morality in their souls who are not appalled. Just a few, but I do. Although this piece is all about the value of having conversations, I guess I'm still working out who they need to be with, and what our hopes for them should/might be. For me, it's no longer what it was in my professional life, when a big part of my job was about trying to get folks on board with doing various kinds of actions. I mean, sure: I'd love it if I could persuade people to vote the way I think they should, but it's feeling bigger/different from that right now. (Much as I'd really really like people to vote the way I think they should!)
“That such a life was possible because she was never brutalized by war and never knew hunger, widespread violence, or homelessness. That such a life was possible for more people than it was not.”
I don’t know that we’ve ever lived in a country where that was possible for more people that it was not - certainly not a world. I know your politics couldn’t be more different, but the nostalgia of a place/time that was better than here reminded me (perhaps on purpose?) of the weaponized nostalgia of MAGA.
Inequity, power, and tribalism are as much as a part of the human condition as compassion, generosity, and community. (And possibly the whole system, not just the human one.) While our system is breaking, and that’s hard to witness, this system was built broken - maybe it’s time for it to break?
My brain has been a tangled knot of macro/micro thoughts on what we mistakenly hold precious so I fear this comes across as harsh in a way I don’t mean it to be. And it’s also possible my brain latched onto the wrong takeaway here.
I worried over that sentence, and I take no offense at your questioning of it. I would probably amend it to "for more people in her country," but I think I would otherwise let it stand, even though I worry that it is not as true as it could/should be and that it plays into ideas about making America great again--part of my worry over it.
In an earlier version I had words about gains made in my lifetime for people oppressed and marginalized in our country, in part to acknowledge that when I was born so many things were worse than they are now. But it is true that more people than not did not live with hunger, widespread violence, and homelessness. (Also, in that section, I am imagining a future person looking backward, so not necessarily writing about now or the past, but about what could come to be.)
I was born and grew up in a time when we had stronger safety nets and less income inequality. In real terms, the money we did have went farther. We had a different rates of taxation (so that the wealthy, while still wealthy, paid far more than they do now) and more affordable education and housing. I've watched all of these things degrade in my lifetime. Were these benefits available to everyone? Nope, not at all. (Housing and education benefits, in particular, were for the benefit of white Americans.) When I say that I don't want to see it all burn down, these are the kinds of things I am thinking of. We could have these things that make life healthier and happier, but for everyone, not just white Americans. The ideals in our system--fairness, rule of law, democracy--are sound. The wealthy have exploited loopholes and the good faith upon which so much depended, but that doesn't necessarily mean the ideals should be abandoned. I agree that it is time for many things to break--and they are--but I fear the kind of chaotic breaking that would come through a religiously-based authoritarian state; the Republicans are now making it clear that such a change is their intention. I have no faith that something better would emerge from that, but I am certain that many more people than now would suffer. It's already happening for women in states that have banned abortion, and for LGBTQ folks who are in greater danger of experiencing violence, and for educators (and their students) in states with punitive laws for teaching accurate/complete history and having books on shelves that can be weaponized to get them fired or jailed.
It is deeply frustrating to me that MAGA folks have so weaponized the idea that things were better in the past that those opposed to them feel we cannot look to anything in the past that WAS better (such as strong labor unions, without which my life would not be what it is today) and say: This is what we need to preserve. They have done that with so many things. That's another reason I decided to keep this part of the essay in, even as I knew it might land in a different way than I hoped it would with some readers.
I appreciate your response, but I disagree with you on the quality of the safety nets. Also while progressive tax policy and unions deserve some of the credit for our larger middle class we also were at a pinnacle of a boom based on raw inputs we had (could argue we’re being stolen from future generations.) I can also see how trade unions fell out of favor and was front and center for many arguments for the benefit and flaws within them in the last 40+ years.
I disagree that our system was built on rule of law, fairness, and democracy. It was built on that for SOME. And has operated that way since its inception. We can argue how many people get to be included in the some but I disagree with you that we’ve ever had a system like that - white or otherwise.
I’ve been spending a lot of time with my sister who thinks the world started getting worse with the advent not of capitalism but domestication so it’s possible that my feelings are influenced by the conversations we’ve been having.
I think we don't disagree much about how things were in the past. I know it was always only for some, and that it was meant to be that way. But I like to think that if it was that way for all, it would work. I like to think we could grow into that. I might still be as idealistic and naive as I was in my 20s, and I've sure been wrong about other things, so I might be wrong about this. Sure wish I was right, though. As for the critique of capitalism and stealing from the future, we likely agree on that, too.
There are times when I despair. My chronic illness allows me so very little energy for championing change. The young idealist girl who belonged to Greenpeace and CND and recycled before it was even thought of, no longer has the energy to be out there in the world. I am immensely lucky that my kids and niece and nephew do the campaigning for me now. Today I reread a poem of mine written back in the 1980s, the notes stated it was a statement against the puerile young people of the day that wanted spoon feeding politics and seemed apathetic. Even back then. Even back then. You had Reagan we had Thatcher. And sadly, she is even beginning to look good compared to the politicians of today. I don’t know, if I was American, I would cope with the thought of tRump back in again. I can’t even get my head around how he is allowed. I despair for democracy. Gilead comes to mind.
I did decide to try to keep my political rants off Substack as I use my Facebook for that a lot. I don’t know whether that’s really possible, for life is basically politics. My mother in law always says she isn’t interested in politics (aged 95) and then is confused when I tell her she can’t complain about the library service closing some days, or the lack of appointments at the doctors etc. She just doesn’t get it, or pretends to.
Wasn't it hard/weird to feel so in the minority in the 80's? I had good friends who shared my values and ways of seeing the world, but I was surrounded by those who loved both Reagan and Thatcher, and it was just confounding to me. Coping with the thought of Trump again--only now knowing he'd be there with what he learned from his failed attempt to overthrow the government and his increased brazenness--has been really hard. He is allowed because our systems are failing and failing us. (If you want to get really depressed and frightened, read some Sarah Kendzior.)
I really appreciate this: "life is basically politics." Isn't that the truth? I appreciate that there are younger people working for change, and I'm making my peace with being in the world in a different way now. Still trying to figure out what that way is, but getting to be OK with it not being the way it once was. I hope you have that, too.
Thank you for writing this essay. It reminded me of why I come here to read other people’s words. It’s reassuring to know others have similar thoughts about the world. You really expressed so much of what I have been thinking about recently. I really don’t understand how Trump can run for President again. It just doesn’t make sense!! It is scary to think this is an accepted norm now. It does feel like things are going in the wrong direction on so many levels. I was discussing it with my husband last night, and he said you can’t really measure change in decades but centuries. Though things don’t feel great right now, overall things are better than 200 years ago. It can feel very frustrating when societal and environmental change is so slow (compared to science and technological advances), but I hope that all the progressive ideas and thoughts spoken today will bring something better in 100 years from now. It’s that hope that keeps the despair at bay. Also it does give importance to what you write now. It might not change things immediately, but if enough people express the same sentiments then change will slowly happen. Your essay helped remind me of this.
I did also resonate with how you felt when reading about rituals, tea and candles. I do think finding joy in the small things does help in daily life and is important. But at the same time there does have to be space for the big uncomfortable things too. There are times we need to retreat and heal for our health. But in the long term we do have to acknowledge the other stuff too. I do find it is a tricky balance. There was something niggling at me before I took a break from here. I do think it was partly due to the irritation I was feeling when reading those type of posts. Though at the same time I can’t read many posts about the situation in Gaza without feeling really distressed. There does need to be a balance there. One I’m trying to figure out. Thank you for all you share on here. It makes a difference to me and makes me feel less alone.
Thank you for taking the time to share your response, Emily. It means a great deal to me. I think a lot of us are trying to figure out a balance. I think for me my stance has to be both/and: I get to retreat and health and find what comforts I can without apology AND I need to stay engaged and not pretend that everything is OK when it so clearly is not. I am not sure how social media fits into this. I had largely left social media (because it so often gave me overwhelm and made me feel icky), but then I started reading Substack Notes regularly. I realized just this week that I was having some of those feelings I once got from other social platforms. I don't want to abandon it--because it is how I find writers whose work brings me a lot of value--but I have to be more careful about my consumption. I think just realizing that even this so much better platform can be too much is helpful.
And I agree that overall things are much better, and there is concrete data to support this! Elizabeth Beggins's post outlines some of that. I very much hope we hang onto our progress that has made life better for so many of us and don't go backwards. We already have in some areas, and that is a big part of my alarm/distress. Like you, I am glad to know I am not alone in any of it.
Rita, this is a masterpiece. I am so grateful for the care and time and heart you’ve put into this essay. I have so much to say in response, but I am in sleepy mode before bed. Let me just say a couple things: I am totally with you on language and conversation like this as a vector for world-building, or perhaps I should say “rebuilding.” I believe that the kindness and connection we can experience in spaces like that can and does extend itself out into the world. I call my newsletter my “sneaky activism,” NOT because I want to push my opinions on anyone, but because I want to create a space for us to engage from a place of mutual trust and good will. I believe, as you do, that’s the bedrock of democracy. I also want to be sure you meet Karen Walrond (she’s on Substack), author of The Lightmaker’s Manifesto. I believe you will love it.
Oh, Asha, thank you for such kind words about the writing, and for your thoughts about different kinds of activism. I know my name is new to you, but yours is familiar to me from the activism you led in PDX starting in 2016. I really appreciated what you wrote recently about how you plan to engage in conversation about our approaching election in your online space. I'm going to think about the idea of engaging from a place of mutual trust and goodwill. I used to extend that to everyone automatically, but I know I don't now. I'm not sure of what to do about that. And thank you for pointing me to Karen Walrond's book. Her newsletter is a favorite, and I so appreciated her most recent book on aging. When The Lightmaker's Manifesto came out I was not in a place to receive it, but I think I am now. Off to place a hold...
Oh wow!!! That we already “know” each other this way is amazing! Rita, I just love this space you’re creating. And I’ll just add… mutual trust + goodwill as I see it today includes good boundaries. It’s rarely easy or straightforward, but I’ve come to trust my inner bullshit detector. When someone shows up in bad faith, or spoiling for a fight, I’m not wasting my time or energy there. Nope.
Thank you for that clarification and for validating my feeling that there are some folks it does no good to engage with. In fact, it does harm. I need these reminders.
I have felt despair, frustration and anger at different points in my life. And no wonder, for I too only wanted to make a difference. And not even in a big, world changing way, but just in whatever sphere I was in - even it was only just a tweak which would make things better or easier.
I withdrew last year from reading and discussing politics because it became too much to bear and was making my depression flare. Like you, I've struggled with the concept that people are so easily fooled, but maybe they wanted to be, as you wisely observed. I can't decide if that depresses me, or frees me from feeling I need to make the attempt to reach them.
Clearly the apple didn't fall far from the tree with your son making the connection with Watergate. I remember my son-in-law telling my mother that my daughter was virtually a communist, and me smiling with pride. I'm no communist, for the abuse of power in those countries under its rule is as appalling as anywhere else, but I knew that she - like me - was drawn to the pure ideal of community genuinely working for each other, and to equality for all.
This piece has given me much food for thought and discussion, and nicely takes me out of my little bubble. Thanks Rita
I also withdrew from reading (much) and discussing political news because it wasn't good for my mental health. For me, it was after the events of January 6, 2021. And to be completely clear and honest, I'm still working to find some right balance with engagement, and I think everyone gets to make the choices they need to for themselves. There are people I absolutely don't engage with over these issues because it will change nothing and it's harmful to me. I also try to make a distinction between political differences and other kinds of differences. I'm not going to engage with or give respect to those who want to strip rights from any group; that's something that transcends politics (imo). As James Baldwin famously said, "We can disagree and still love each other, unless your disagreement is rooted in my oppression and denial of my humanity and right to exist.”
My daughter likes to tell me that I am a communist and just won't admit it. Like you, I grew up very aware of the abuses in communist countries and reject that label because of it, but I would sure like us to get to something closer to "community genuinely working for each other, and to equality for all." Thank you for helping me feel less alone in the trouble of the world.
I'd not heard that James Baldwin quote, but it is so spot on - thank you for sharing it.
I do find myself becoming less and less forgiving of people I love (or have loved) when that is the case. It's all rather heartbreaking, but yes - it helps to know that one isn't alone in feeling this way.
Rita, I am so glad to have found you here, as i’ve always felt a bit of those kindred spirits vibes coming from your writing. This piece is beautifully written and reflects many of my own thoughts that I’ve just plain been unable to articulate. I joined Substack for the long form journalism I’ve missed elsewhere, particularly for AHP’s Culture Study, but then also hauled over my old blog. But then when I was reading some of my own content from way back when, it seemed like such a time capsule, pre COVID, pre-so much other crap, that in some ways it felt quaint. I loved reading some of it, as it brought me back to so many things.
But now when I tried to write a “today” Substack post, it was filled with so much pent up fury that I’ve been reluctant to post it. It is as if being over 50 has now removed any filter I might have had. I just find myself overwhelmed with rage at so many things, and I feel like that’s not a fun “stack” 🥳 You put things into words, and I hope that helps you work through the rage and confusion. I need to try that. Maybe a creative outlet to focus on will help me better process things.
Also I love that you just bought food for the young man. In our Canadian pnw town, we have also become way too comfortable with just walking by that young man (or woman) and it’s making me hollow. Next time I will do that small act of kindness.
Stephanie! I am so excited to see you here and to read what you've been writing! I came here in a similar way, including coming first through CS.
I know what you mean about our old blog writing feeling quaint. It feels like something from another time and place--I suppose because it was another time and place. So much has changed in the last 8 years. So many hard things have happened. I understand your rage, too. I am not there as much as I once was, and I didn't write much when I was in that place. I abandoned a lot of posts because I didn't see how they would do anyone much good. Though I think there is a time and place for rage! And it's OK to be not fun! I just wasn't feeling/seeing much value in MY rage writing. I'm thankful for others' rage writing, though. (Do you read Lyz Lenz? I like hers. I also appreciate Jeff Teidrich, whose rage/foul mouth is so over the top it makes me laugh about things that are so maddening.)
I think losing your filter when you cross into your 50s is a common experience, and one of the few benefits of the decade! I'm looking forward to having even fewer fucks to give as I continue to age.
Finally, I encourage any acts that humanize others. Boy, do I think we need more of that. I'm trying to do more myself.
Thank you for this Rita. I'm in a horrible place at the moment - reading my own words as a quote and as part of such an intelligent, considered essay has soothed my troubled soul a little. Xx
I'm so sorry to hear that you're in a horrible place. Your words truly helped me tolerate mine in recent days. I'm glad to be able to return the favor, even if in a small way. Isn't that what our writing is for? Or at least, one of the things it is for. Please take care, as you can.
Oh, Rita. So many thoughts. This is such a moving piece, and I know it took hours of consideration, research, and heart-to-brain mining to bring it into being. So, first, thank you for all of that. For being willing to invest yourself in that effort. And thank you for teaching your children to analyze and ask questions, for opening worlds to so many kids across your years in education, and for being the kind of person who looks the down-trodden in the eye and offers them what you can in the moment. The way I see it, that’s all any of us can do — offering what we can in the moment, moving within our spheres of influence.
We can’t know how or whether our actions will change anything permanently, but we can be fairly certain they will make a difference in the short term, as you have done with this essay for me. As you have done by giving away food. As you have done by continuing to believe in the possibility of making a difference.
When I focused, in that recent essay, on the concept of talking with others as a solution to all that ails us, I could perhaps have done more to offer it as one of many possible avenues to affect change. It’s simple, yes, and not a perfect solution. But I believe we can find connection that way, and that connection is a driver for hope and belonging, and that it is one of the only tools that we all have in common, that costs little and gives much. So it’s something we can DO, when we feel (as so many of us do) that we must DO SOMETHING. Thanks for bearing with my long-winded reply. Thanks for your words, Rita, and for your heart.
It might not have come through in this essay, but yours was tremendously helpful to me. I wish I'd done a better job of conveying that. First, you articulated an idea that had been banging around in my head for a bit, but you made a case for it, and I so appreciated that. Then, something in your words got me to realize that the writing we do here can be considered a kind of conversation. (Living my now-small life in a very blue city in a blue state means that I don't have many conversations with those who see things much differently from me, so talking with those I encounter IRL rarely feels like doing SOMETHING.) You helped me make some peace with the reality that we can't all do all the things, but should still do the things we can. I wish I were the kind of person who can organize others and do action-actions and make big kinds of things happen, but I'm not. (It's not what I'm built for.) I even wish, often, that I could produce a different kind of writing--the kind full of information and cogent arguments that illuminate problems and corruption and all of that. But I'm not that kind of writer, either. I'm more poet than journalist, a thing I have struggled with for decades now.
Thank you so much for seeing me and my work in such a generous light. Yes, this piece was. hours and days in the making. (And I'm so glad to release it! Even if I know it could still be better!) You noticing that increases my feeling of connection with you, and you are so right that "connection is a driver for hope and belonging...that costs little and gives much."
And here we are...talking with one another. Granted, we already had a pretty solid sense of how the other might react, which makes it less intimidating. Let's keep lifting up the voices that seem to favor unity, no matter what we know about the person. They're definitely out there. And as far as I'm concerned, unity does not require that we all agree on everything. It sounds so easy on "paper." All we can do is continue to try.
I know! 🙂 For me, at this point, I can unify with folks who believe in democracy and want it to continue. This means supporting the practices and people that support it. I miss that being a given in our political landscape.
Powerful food for thought here, linking the shifting baselines of our degraded ecology to the our degraded democracy and society. It's hard not to have anger course through our veins for all of it... I remember when Trump was elected I checked out completely, got off of Facebook, stopped reading the paper, just stuck my head in the sand. It was the only way I could heal myself and eventually bring a child into the world. I've reengaged since then with world events, but will never regret tuning it all out for that period of time.
I think there are times when we have to tune out for our own self-preservation. I could not work in my roles in education without being deeply immersed in what was happening (because it was happening to our kids and their families), and that only intensified during the pandemic. When I left (which I didn't really do for a full year, as I took a part-time teaching job after "retiring"), I mostly checked out, in all the ways you describe. Like you, I needed to heal. I'm still in the process of doing that, and trying to find some balance. It's not easy or comfortable. In Jeannine Ouellette's essay that I linked to in the end, there is a section that talks about coming out of anesthesia, and it feels like that for me.
I know that any of us with an ounce of morality in our souls are appalled by what has been happening politically in this country. And that, like your friend said, many people don’t want to acknowledge that they're part of the problem so talking with them is frustrating. I have no solutions to any of the issues you addressed in this post, but I do know that I continue to model the behavior I want to see in others. Will this make any difference? I can hope so.
I hope so, too. One of the things that is so hard for me is that I do know some folks who have morality in their souls who are not appalled. Just a few, but I do. Although this piece is all about the value of having conversations, I guess I'm still working out who they need to be with, and what our hopes for them should/might be. For me, it's no longer what it was in my professional life, when a big part of my job was about trying to get folks on board with doing various kinds of actions. I mean, sure: I'd love it if I could persuade people to vote the way I think they should, but it's feeling bigger/different from that right now. (Much as I'd really really like people to vote the way I think they should!)
“That such a life was possible because she was never brutalized by war and never knew hunger, widespread violence, or homelessness. That such a life was possible for more people than it was not.”
I don’t know that we’ve ever lived in a country where that was possible for more people that it was not - certainly not a world. I know your politics couldn’t be more different, but the nostalgia of a place/time that was better than here reminded me (perhaps on purpose?) of the weaponized nostalgia of MAGA.
Inequity, power, and tribalism are as much as a part of the human condition as compassion, generosity, and community. (And possibly the whole system, not just the human one.) While our system is breaking, and that’s hard to witness, this system was built broken - maybe it’s time for it to break?
My brain has been a tangled knot of macro/micro thoughts on what we mistakenly hold precious so I fear this comes across as harsh in a way I don’t mean it to be. And it’s also possible my brain latched onto the wrong takeaway here.
I worried over that sentence, and I take no offense at your questioning of it. I would probably amend it to "for more people in her country," but I think I would otherwise let it stand, even though I worry that it is not as true as it could/should be and that it plays into ideas about making America great again--part of my worry over it.
In an earlier version I had words about gains made in my lifetime for people oppressed and marginalized in our country, in part to acknowledge that when I was born so many things were worse than they are now. But it is true that more people than not did not live with hunger, widespread violence, and homelessness. (Also, in that section, I am imagining a future person looking backward, so not necessarily writing about now or the past, but about what could come to be.)
I was born and grew up in a time when we had stronger safety nets and less income inequality. In real terms, the money we did have went farther. We had a different rates of taxation (so that the wealthy, while still wealthy, paid far more than they do now) and more affordable education and housing. I've watched all of these things degrade in my lifetime. Were these benefits available to everyone? Nope, not at all. (Housing and education benefits, in particular, were for the benefit of white Americans.) When I say that I don't want to see it all burn down, these are the kinds of things I am thinking of. We could have these things that make life healthier and happier, but for everyone, not just white Americans. The ideals in our system--fairness, rule of law, democracy--are sound. The wealthy have exploited loopholes and the good faith upon which so much depended, but that doesn't necessarily mean the ideals should be abandoned. I agree that it is time for many things to break--and they are--but I fear the kind of chaotic breaking that would come through a religiously-based authoritarian state; the Republicans are now making it clear that such a change is their intention. I have no faith that something better would emerge from that, but I am certain that many more people than now would suffer. It's already happening for women in states that have banned abortion, and for LGBTQ folks who are in greater danger of experiencing violence, and for educators (and their students) in states with punitive laws for teaching accurate/complete history and having books on shelves that can be weaponized to get them fired or jailed.
It is deeply frustrating to me that MAGA folks have so weaponized the idea that things were better in the past that those opposed to them feel we cannot look to anything in the past that WAS better (such as strong labor unions, without which my life would not be what it is today) and say: This is what we need to preserve. They have done that with so many things. That's another reason I decided to keep this part of the essay in, even as I knew it might land in a different way than I hoped it would with some readers.
I appreciate your response, but I disagree with you on the quality of the safety nets. Also while progressive tax policy and unions deserve some of the credit for our larger middle class we also were at a pinnacle of a boom based on raw inputs we had (could argue we’re being stolen from future generations.) I can also see how trade unions fell out of favor and was front and center for many arguments for the benefit and flaws within them in the last 40+ years.
I disagree that our system was built on rule of law, fairness, and democracy. It was built on that for SOME. And has operated that way since its inception. We can argue how many people get to be included in the some but I disagree with you that we’ve ever had a system like that - white or otherwise.
I’ve been spending a lot of time with my sister who thinks the world started getting worse with the advent not of capitalism but domestication so it’s possible that my feelings are influenced by the conversations we’ve been having.
I think we don't disagree much about how things were in the past. I know it was always only for some, and that it was meant to be that way. But I like to think that if it was that way for all, it would work. I like to think we could grow into that. I might still be as idealistic and naive as I was in my 20s, and I've sure been wrong about other things, so I might be wrong about this. Sure wish I was right, though. As for the critique of capitalism and stealing from the future, we likely agree on that, too.
I like to think it could work too, but I think I’m too cynical about nature and the part we play in it to believe it to be so.
There are times when I despair. My chronic illness allows me so very little energy for championing change. The young idealist girl who belonged to Greenpeace and CND and recycled before it was even thought of, no longer has the energy to be out there in the world. I am immensely lucky that my kids and niece and nephew do the campaigning for me now. Today I reread a poem of mine written back in the 1980s, the notes stated it was a statement against the puerile young people of the day that wanted spoon feeding politics and seemed apathetic. Even back then. Even back then. You had Reagan we had Thatcher. And sadly, she is even beginning to look good compared to the politicians of today. I don’t know, if I was American, I would cope with the thought of tRump back in again. I can’t even get my head around how he is allowed. I despair for democracy. Gilead comes to mind.
I did decide to try to keep my political rants off Substack as I use my Facebook for that a lot. I don’t know whether that’s really possible, for life is basically politics. My mother in law always says she isn’t interested in politics (aged 95) and then is confused when I tell her she can’t complain about the library service closing some days, or the lack of appointments at the doctors etc. She just doesn’t get it, or pretends to.
Anyway, sorry for the ramble. Great read.
Wasn't it hard/weird to feel so in the minority in the 80's? I had good friends who shared my values and ways of seeing the world, but I was surrounded by those who loved both Reagan and Thatcher, and it was just confounding to me. Coping with the thought of Trump again--only now knowing he'd be there with what he learned from his failed attempt to overthrow the government and his increased brazenness--has been really hard. He is allowed because our systems are failing and failing us. (If you want to get really depressed and frightened, read some Sarah Kendzior.)
I really appreciate this: "life is basically politics." Isn't that the truth? I appreciate that there are younger people working for change, and I'm making my peace with being in the world in a different way now. Still trying to figure out what that way is, but getting to be OK with it not being the way it once was. I hope you have that, too.
Thank you for writing this essay. It reminded me of why I come here to read other people’s words. It’s reassuring to know others have similar thoughts about the world. You really expressed so much of what I have been thinking about recently. I really don’t understand how Trump can run for President again. It just doesn’t make sense!! It is scary to think this is an accepted norm now. It does feel like things are going in the wrong direction on so many levels. I was discussing it with my husband last night, and he said you can’t really measure change in decades but centuries. Though things don’t feel great right now, overall things are better than 200 years ago. It can feel very frustrating when societal and environmental change is so slow (compared to science and technological advances), but I hope that all the progressive ideas and thoughts spoken today will bring something better in 100 years from now. It’s that hope that keeps the despair at bay. Also it does give importance to what you write now. It might not change things immediately, but if enough people express the same sentiments then change will slowly happen. Your essay helped remind me of this.
I did also resonate with how you felt when reading about rituals, tea and candles. I do think finding joy in the small things does help in daily life and is important. But at the same time there does have to be space for the big uncomfortable things too. There are times we need to retreat and heal for our health. But in the long term we do have to acknowledge the other stuff too. I do find it is a tricky balance. There was something niggling at me before I took a break from here. I do think it was partly due to the irritation I was feeling when reading those type of posts. Though at the same time I can’t read many posts about the situation in Gaza without feeling really distressed. There does need to be a balance there. One I’m trying to figure out. Thank you for all you share on here. It makes a difference to me and makes me feel less alone.
Thank you for taking the time to share your response, Emily. It means a great deal to me. I think a lot of us are trying to figure out a balance. I think for me my stance has to be both/and: I get to retreat and health and find what comforts I can without apology AND I need to stay engaged and not pretend that everything is OK when it so clearly is not. I am not sure how social media fits into this. I had largely left social media (because it so often gave me overwhelm and made me feel icky), but then I started reading Substack Notes regularly. I realized just this week that I was having some of those feelings I once got from other social platforms. I don't want to abandon it--because it is how I find writers whose work brings me a lot of value--but I have to be more careful about my consumption. I think just realizing that even this so much better platform can be too much is helpful.
And I agree that overall things are much better, and there is concrete data to support this! Elizabeth Beggins's post outlines some of that. I very much hope we hang onto our progress that has made life better for so many of us and don't go backwards. We already have in some areas, and that is a big part of my alarm/distress. Like you, I am glad to know I am not alone in any of it.
Rita, this is a masterpiece. I am so grateful for the care and time and heart you’ve put into this essay. I have so much to say in response, but I am in sleepy mode before bed. Let me just say a couple things: I am totally with you on language and conversation like this as a vector for world-building, or perhaps I should say “rebuilding.” I believe that the kindness and connection we can experience in spaces like that can and does extend itself out into the world. I call my newsletter my “sneaky activism,” NOT because I want to push my opinions on anyone, but because I want to create a space for us to engage from a place of mutual trust and good will. I believe, as you do, that’s the bedrock of democracy. I also want to be sure you meet Karen Walrond (she’s on Substack), author of The Lightmaker’s Manifesto. I believe you will love it.
Oh, Asha, thank you for such kind words about the writing, and for your thoughts about different kinds of activism. I know my name is new to you, but yours is familiar to me from the activism you led in PDX starting in 2016. I really appreciated what you wrote recently about how you plan to engage in conversation about our approaching election in your online space. I'm going to think about the idea of engaging from a place of mutual trust and goodwill. I used to extend that to everyone automatically, but I know I don't now. I'm not sure of what to do about that. And thank you for pointing me to Karen Walrond's book. Her newsletter is a favorite, and I so appreciated her most recent book on aging. When The Lightmaker's Manifesto came out I was not in a place to receive it, but I think I am now. Off to place a hold...
Oh wow!!! That we already “know” each other this way is amazing! Rita, I just love this space you’re creating. And I’ll just add… mutual trust + goodwill as I see it today includes good boundaries. It’s rarely easy or straightforward, but I’ve come to trust my inner bullshit detector. When someone shows up in bad faith, or spoiling for a fight, I’m not wasting my time or energy there. Nope.
Thank you for that clarification and for validating my feeling that there are some folks it does no good to engage with. In fact, it does harm. I need these reminders.
Lovely to officially meet you, Rita! And love this post. Off to subscribe. Thanks for sharing your light. xo
What a treat and honor to meet you! I love how this platform allows for these kinds of connections.
I have felt despair, frustration and anger at different points in my life. And no wonder, for I too only wanted to make a difference. And not even in a big, world changing way, but just in whatever sphere I was in - even it was only just a tweak which would make things better or easier.
I withdrew last year from reading and discussing politics because it became too much to bear and was making my depression flare. Like you, I've struggled with the concept that people are so easily fooled, but maybe they wanted to be, as you wisely observed. I can't decide if that depresses me, or frees me from feeling I need to make the attempt to reach them.
Clearly the apple didn't fall far from the tree with your son making the connection with Watergate. I remember my son-in-law telling my mother that my daughter was virtually a communist, and me smiling with pride. I'm no communist, for the abuse of power in those countries under its rule is as appalling as anywhere else, but I knew that she - like me - was drawn to the pure ideal of community genuinely working for each other, and to equality for all.
This piece has given me much food for thought and discussion, and nicely takes me out of my little bubble. Thanks Rita
I also withdrew from reading (much) and discussing political news because it wasn't good for my mental health. For me, it was after the events of January 6, 2021. And to be completely clear and honest, I'm still working to find some right balance with engagement, and I think everyone gets to make the choices they need to for themselves. There are people I absolutely don't engage with over these issues because it will change nothing and it's harmful to me. I also try to make a distinction between political differences and other kinds of differences. I'm not going to engage with or give respect to those who want to strip rights from any group; that's something that transcends politics (imo). As James Baldwin famously said, "We can disagree and still love each other, unless your disagreement is rooted in my oppression and denial of my humanity and right to exist.”
My daughter likes to tell me that I am a communist and just won't admit it. Like you, I grew up very aware of the abuses in communist countries and reject that label because of it, but I would sure like us to get to something closer to "community genuinely working for each other, and to equality for all." Thank you for helping me feel less alone in the trouble of the world.
I'd not heard that James Baldwin quote, but it is so spot on - thank you for sharing it.
I do find myself becoming less and less forgiving of people I love (or have loved) when that is the case. It's all rather heartbreaking, but yes - it helps to know that one isn't alone in feeling this way.
Rita, I am so glad to have found you here, as i’ve always felt a bit of those kindred spirits vibes coming from your writing. This piece is beautifully written and reflects many of my own thoughts that I’ve just plain been unable to articulate. I joined Substack for the long form journalism I’ve missed elsewhere, particularly for AHP’s Culture Study, but then also hauled over my old blog. But then when I was reading some of my own content from way back when, it seemed like such a time capsule, pre COVID, pre-so much other crap, that in some ways it felt quaint. I loved reading some of it, as it brought me back to so many things.
But now when I tried to write a “today” Substack post, it was filled with so much pent up fury that I’ve been reluctant to post it. It is as if being over 50 has now removed any filter I might have had. I just find myself overwhelmed with rage at so many things, and I feel like that’s not a fun “stack” 🥳 You put things into words, and I hope that helps you work through the rage and confusion. I need to try that. Maybe a creative outlet to focus on will help me better process things.
Also I love that you just bought food for the young man. In our Canadian pnw town, we have also become way too comfortable with just walking by that young man (or woman) and it’s making me hollow. Next time I will do that small act of kindness.
Stephanie! I am so excited to see you here and to read what you've been writing! I came here in a similar way, including coming first through CS.
I know what you mean about our old blog writing feeling quaint. It feels like something from another time and place--I suppose because it was another time and place. So much has changed in the last 8 years. So many hard things have happened. I understand your rage, too. I am not there as much as I once was, and I didn't write much when I was in that place. I abandoned a lot of posts because I didn't see how they would do anyone much good. Though I think there is a time and place for rage! And it's OK to be not fun! I just wasn't feeling/seeing much value in MY rage writing. I'm thankful for others' rage writing, though. (Do you read Lyz Lenz? I like hers. I also appreciate Jeff Teidrich, whose rage/foul mouth is so over the top it makes me laugh about things that are so maddening.)
I think losing your filter when you cross into your 50s is a common experience, and one of the few benefits of the decade! I'm looking forward to having even fewer fucks to give as I continue to age.
Finally, I encourage any acts that humanize others. Boy, do I think we need more of that. I'm trying to do more myself.