Listen Well

As I lament from time to time, the agony of defeat as a Buffalo Bills and Cleveland Browns fan has far overshadowed the thrill of victory in my sports-viewing life. That’s why, in the early hours of November 3, 2016, I sat inches from the television screen, willing the Tribe of Cleveland to capture one more win, putting a smack-down on the Cleveland curse the Cavs had so miraculously broken only six months before. But alas, it wasn’t to be.

That World Series loss was more palatable than some, because the Cubs had experienced a longer drought than the Indians. I knew our guys gave it all they had, especially with the injuries to starters. And, in the end, it is a game.

I feel almost like a dejected sports fan on steroids this week, as the team I was pulling the lever for suffered an excruciating loss at the ballot box. I’ve made no secret of my support for the Democratic platform or for the Democratic candidate for president. Relieved of the restrictions I’d had as an active clergywoman, I attended my first political rally, donated money, and wore the pantsuit. Needless to say, I was dismayed as the results came in across the various network broadcasts. I’ll admit to channel-surfing, hoping to see better news somewhere. But it was the bottom of the ninth inning, and it just wasn’t our year. Once again, the pendulum had swung.

I know that many of my neighbors don’t agree with my choice, but I’m grateful for the privilege and responsibility given to all American citizens to study the issues, determine which candidate is more in line with their values, consider who might lead most effectively, and vote accordingly. However, I’m sorry the distastefulness of the campaign often kept us from hearing each other through the process.

One of the driving forces for the election of Mr. Trump is said to be the voices of those who felt forgotten by Wall Street and the White House. We’ve always known that the squeaky wheel gets the grease, and now it’s our turn, says much of mid-America. But my hope for the days ahead is that we will find a way for all voices to be heard, not just those shouting out from the crowd. We’ve got some tough conversations ahead of us, both in congress and at the coffee machine, and we must find ways to muffle the distractions and actually have respectful conversations about race, gender, affordable medical care, living wages, and the future of our planet.

Some of the rhetoric being spewed across Facebook and Twitter has been gloating and vindictive, and we can get beyond that. I’ve uttered a few demeaning words myself in the midst of exuberant victory, about Steph Curry throwing his mouthpiece or that school of the blue and gold across the border in Michigan. But the stakes are much higher in the governance of our country, for this is no game. Some of our neighbors, co-workers and fellow church members are legitimately grieving and perhaps even fearful, and gloating over our own victory or belittling another’s deeply held convictions don’t move us forward.

I’m finishing up this column while watching the delightful Elizabeth Holiday, now sixteen months old. She likes the space between the dresser and bed. She thinks she’s stuck, so she hollers for help to get out. Then she goes right back to the same space. In actuality, she’s not stuck; she just has to stand up and turn her body.

That’s a good place to start in this post-election time. If we can quiet our own hollering, we can stand up and turn our bodies toward each other. We may be surprised to find that we’re not nearly as stuck as we think we are, we’re not as divided as the pundits proclaim. At our core, we are more alike than different. We want what’s best for our children, and if the long-time success of our local United Way campaign is any measure, we truly have a concern for our neighbor. That’s where we begin the conversations, as Ashland pastor Nate Bebout points the way forward: “Listen well, love well, and live well.”