Carter vs. Reagan, 1980 – the first election I remember. Our teacher gave us each an index card with the description of a citizen – age, race, gender, socioeconomic status. After learning about the pressing issues of the time, we were to vote with the assumed identity of the person on our card. “Different candidates appeal to different voters.” Mr. Skauggs told us, “It’s a privilege to live in a country where we can agree to disagree.”
I’ve often credited my teacher for being ahead of his time. However, as we move into the home stretch of this political season, I’m wondering if he might have missed a crucial part of the learning opportunity. Perhaps agreeing to disagree is not the best we can do. When our goal is simply live and let live, we stay ignorant, securely secluded in our own boxes. There is no room for curiosity.
There are times, of course, when it’s best to separate ourselves. It’s unwise to engage with people who delight in conflict or threaten our safety. Most often, however, staying in conversation with those who see the world differently is valuable. Our country becomes weaker and our lives become smaller when we huddle in our private corners.
It is human nature to believe our views are correct, that we have a monopoly on the truth. The reality, however, is that we don’t live in a world of irrefutable facts. We are complex people who carry our histories into each experience. We go into every situation with our own unique set of filters and biases.
To venture outside the walls of our own beliefs seems counter to self-preservation. It’s risky to allow someone else’s story to be true because we fear it threatens the validity of our own. Therefore, we often fall into the false binary of good and bad, thinking our story only works if we position the opposing side as the bad guy. Our scarcity mentality tells us we need to dismiss another person’s experience to preserve the plausibility of our own. It’s difficult to accept that two differing stories can be simultaneously true.
When we choose the us vs. them mindset, we assign labels to people who vote or believe differently than we do. We assume a variety of characteristics and create an entire persona centered around one piece of information. We forget people are not all one thing or another. Like us, they are nuanced and complicated, not always fitting neatly into a sorting system.
It takes courage to receive another person’s story when it contrasts with our own.
We may not agree, come to a resolution, or even meet in the middle. However, we will likely walk away with a better understanding of ourselves, our fellow citizen, and the intricacy of the issue. When our intention is to better understand each other and the situation, we will find overlap in the things we care about. And – as we add layers to people, we dilute the power of a single trait.
We can set our sights higher than agreeing to disagree. When we courageously leave the security of our own camps and are open to diverse perspectives, we’re a better nation.
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