July 5th, 2016
Whoosh—where did June go? And more importantly, where did this beautiful country go? Since June 23rd, I have struggled (as many have) to continue with the rhythms of regular life in the face of the waves of political madness and social upheaval. We are tempted to vilify those who see the world differently—in my case, those who voted for the UK to leave the EU—and to decry those voters as xenophobic or ignorant. Tempting—but where does this leave us?
The anger and outrage felt by so many in the face of Brexit—and elsewhere in the rise of nationalism as embodied in horrific figures like Marie Le Pen or Trump—needs some place to land, some direction to go. In the face of my anger, I have sought to understand how those others see the world. Mike Carter at the Guardian gives witness to the parts of England that have struggled and been broken in his walk from Liverpool to London—what he found meant he was not surprised, as so many of us were, by the Leave vote ( well worth reading: https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2016/jun/27/liverpool-london-brexit-leave-eu-referendum). People who feel as though they have nothing left—nothing to offer their children nor a future of possibility – won’t weigh the complicated pros and cons but will vote for change.
Even as I am trying to understand the forces that would lead one to close borders, add rigor to the us vs. them categories, I am appalled and frightened by the racist & xenophobic attacks that have been unleashed on anyone perceived as foreign—even when they are demonstrably British. In our study of literature, the complexities of identity are a constant theme and this continues to be at the heart of so many struggles. From the realm of the personal and domestic to the larger political and national arenas, who we are and how we are perceived—how others perceive us—is at the core of every relationship.
I have been wondering how to be more actively present in this time of upheaval. It is tempting to suggest that one of the key areas for positive change—locally, globally—is education. Those who feel disempowered or left behind in the global economy have not been given the luxury of education I have had; it is that education that allows me to be flexible in work possibilities, giving me confidence to try new configurations and move to different places. A good education that teaches young people to speak up, to think for themselves, critically & thoughtfully question and discover also leads to compassion as one recognizes the possibilities in others with different perspectives and ideas. Otherwise, one greets the other with fear and the sense that this unknown being threatens one’s own precarious hold.
In the midst of the despair and agony of the present moment, I seek glimmers of hope. Marching with tens of thousands of others last Saturday celebrating diversity and European culture, wearing a safety pin to openly express a rejection of racist behavior and promise a safe place to anyone experiencing an attack, listening to Bee Rowlatt as we discussed the power of feminism traced back to the incredible Mary Wollstonecraft and hearing the local voices of activism and challenge to our still unequal roles—these are ways to be fed.
And even more closely, the incredible discussions I have had the pleasure to be part of in the Salon: engaging Joyce, Proust, Faulkner, Woolf, Transcendentalists, Sophocles in such profound and generous ways: the Salon community feeds hope. I wish I had the brain capacity to translate some of the gems that have been offered in discussions in the past months—perhaps a few weeks of quiet will give room for some necessary reflection. I want my words to reflect the incredible gift of the Salon community and the work we do together. These discussions speak to the best aspects of human possibility: curiosity, openness, sensitivity and community.
8.7.16 After I wrote this & before I published—two more black men, Alton Sterling and Philando Castile are shot dead in the USA. More people are shot- including active duty police—in a demonstration against racial violence in Dallas.
“Hatred, which could destroy so much, never failed to destroy the man who hated, and this was an immutable law.”
― James Baldwin, The Fire Next Time
