We're on a journey to one of the most holy days of the year, yet the mood feels anything but sacred. Almost every day we learn of yet another man in power who has been accused of harassing, abusing or defiling women (or, in some cases, girls or other men).
Our elected officials are struggling — more than usual, it seems — to compromise and make decisions that benefit the majority of Americans. I feel like we're all holding our breath, dreading — and expecting — the next natural disaster or mass murder of innocent souls.
As if all of that news and apprehension isn't distressing enough, many of us have placed ourselves on one side, eager to taunt, belittle and demonize the other. Oh, how my spirit aches for peace on earth.
I've got no easy road map for getting there, but I've got a suggestion for where to start. How about we begin by acknowledging that decency and ethics and common sense are not relegated to any single political party, gender, race, nationality or religion.
My extended family spent a few days together over Thanksgiving break. We are joined by blood and marriage (or significant relationships), but we certainly don't share views on gun control, term limits, health care or even religion.
We do share a passion for good food, movies, charades and foosball. We tell stories about the past and dream about our futures. We recognize that our connections are more important than our divisions.
Our conversations, in the game room, at the dinner table, around the backyard fire pit, deepen our understanding of one another and strengthen our empathy.
When I'm in the kitchen with my aunt, mincing parsley for scrambled eggs, I don't consider how she votes in each election. I recall the hundreds of meals she's prepared for me over the years. I soak up her contagious laugh. I marvel at her generosity and wide-open heart.
When I'm shopping for groceries with my sister, I don't think about her political views. I appreciate her optimistic outlook, eye for beauty and sense of whimsy.
We are good people who sometimes make bad decisions. We try to learn from our mistakes. We value relationships over being right.
I suspect most families are the same. And yet we seem incapable of treating one another like members of a great extended family. I'm convinced that change in our communities, and therefore our nation, begins with change at home.
I wonder how many parents have essential conversations with their children about keeping their bodies to themselves, about seeking explicit permission before touching another person, about reporting when this rule is violated.
I wonder how we can better model conflict resolution, how we can listen more and talk less, how we can look beyond our self-interests and consider what's best for everyone.
I wonder how we can better manage our anger and identify and treat mental illnesses in a meaningful way.
The journey toward peace is circuitous and longer than any of us want. The destination may not be what we expect.
I'm certain we'll get there faster by drawing from our shared connections and honoring our differences without vilifying one another. I can't think of a better way to prepare for Christmas than to begin that sacred work today.
Tyra Damm is a Briefing columnist. She can be reached at tyradamm@gmail.com.
