When I was growing up in California in the mid-1980s and 1990s, my parents would joke during every election that there was no point in voting because they would cancel each other out. They voted anyway. It didn’t seem strange to me that they had an opposition policy until I got into college. At least that’s when I swore I I will never date anyone with “that” policy. My baby boomer parents were probably the last generation to avoid discussing politics, religion, or money in public. He was rude. Now it’s almost rude no To declare your policy and declare your loyalties according to your circles.
I felt that way especially during the 2024 election. Now that the green signs are down (mostly) and the election dust has settled (somewhat), we have the opportunity to rethink how we want to approach politics over the next four years. This can mean how to act, how to defend, how to resist, how to persuade, and how to organize. But perhaps just as importantly, it can mean how to do it no Do how DisGet involved, and how United NationsIngredients, how to Repeatsplace. How do we allow the personal to become personal again – for our own sake and for the sake of democracy? Wyoming may be ready to do this reimagining.
It’s tempting to think that more political talk would lead to better policy. If people talked more about politics, wouldn’t they be more informed, engaged and intelligent citizens? Wouldn’t this lead to a stronger democracy? Not necessarily. Especially in the age of the Internet, where, as we all know by now, we get our information from very different sources, many of which operate using different sets of “facts.” I worry that a healthy, thriving democracy, in which people govern themselves intelligently, will not succeed in this environment.
But at the same time, what if there is another contributor to our polarization and division? Overcommitment Or the misguided assumption that the best way to “save” democracy is to talk about our political beliefs To nausea And at the expense of our relationships with others? Just as Trump’s first presidency saw a wave of people “unfriending” or ending relationships with people who voted differently, we are seeing New looks From this motive again. I understand the desire to do something, and take a stand. But any action is not necessarily better than no action at all, especially if it divides people and threatens social cohesion. The goal of politics is to serve societies and human relations, not the other way around. If we allow our differences to destroy our connections, we have lost the plot and purpose of this experiment in self-government.
To be clear, I am not asking anyone to drop or hide their identity for the sake of superficial social cohesion. I am not calling for everyone to “fit in” and ignore real differences and problems. And if you want to talk politics with your uncle over the holidays, there are plenty of great resources to help you do that without killing each other. I’m saying you don’t have to talk politics. You are not a careless or irresponsible citizen if you choose to ask your uncle who is most likely to go to the Super Bowl instead of why he demonizes immigrants.
I’ve lived in mostly blue bubbles my whole life — San Francisco, DC, Portland — and it’s easy to isolate myself from people who think differently. When I talked about my Christian Republican mother and my Democratic scientist father, I was often met with gaping mouths and disbelief. Although it is difficult in Wyoming to be in the minority and feel unrepresented in state politics, I appreciate that it is easier to meet and get to know people who don’t think like me. And people who subscribe to similar politics also know people, usually beloved family members, who don’t. No one here is shocked when I talk about my father. I like to think this is one of Wyoming’s strengths – or it can be if we let it.
A lot has changed since my father has grown up, for the better. But there’s one thing I wonder if Boomers get right: a sense of civic camaraderie — a shared goal as citizens — that prioritizes people and communities, not national politics. My parents would discuss politics with each other at home, but they knew when to stop and enjoy life in other ways — through a shared love of music, reading, and their children — together.
