It’s something I think about every day.
I wasn’t planning to write about Charlie Kirk or gun violence or political division this week, but here we are.
Yesterday, a prominent political influencer was shot and killed. At this point, that’s basically all we know, despite much of the reaction that assumes the motive was political or ideological. Since we know so little about the assassination itself, the focus has mostly been on the larger reaction. Many on the right are declaring war, quite literally. Many are mourning.
My work is focused on women’s equality, and specifically equality at home. My views and Charlie Kirk’s views were diametrically opposed. In my opinion, his ideas and rhetoric were harmful to everyone, not just women.
But of course, no one deserves to be murdered. That’s part of the response I’m seeing on the left. That we loathed Kirk’s ideology (some also loathed him personally) for the real harm that was perpetuated, but he did not deserve to die. I’m seeing videos and statements from his counterparts on the left that are filled with empathy and condemnation of violence. I’m also seeing a lot of processing and mixed emotions.
But that’s not what I’m thinking about.
What absolutely baffles me is the speculation and accusations of what “the other side” is going to do next. Reacting to what you think a group of people will say or do, before it’s even happened.
We are all two steps ahead of each other and ourselves, racing toward the bottom of a compassionless pit full of noise. Is it any wonder we can’t talk to each other (let alone listen to each other) when we all think we know everything?
Conservatives are blaming liberals for their rhetoric. Liberals are saying, “Seriously? Have you heard a single thing the President has ever said? Did you actually listen to Charlie Kirk himself?”
His last words couldn’t have been scripted: “Counting or not counting gang violence?”
Doesn’t that just sum it all up. He was literally debating the details of gun violence in America in front of a group of college students. Half of which he thought should be there only to meet their future husbands, and all of which grew up doing active shooter drills for more than a decade.
But even so, the response from the left is: The right is going to blame us and use this to justify even more violence, so screw them. Aren’t they the worst? While the right’s response is: The left is going to blame us for this when it was clearly their fault, so why not declare all-out war. Aren’t they the worst?
First, we predict how we think the other side will react, then we proactively respond accordingly.
Ping. Pong. Ping. Pong.
Will we ever drop the paddles and have conversations with each other, not about each other? (And not in the comments section, please.)
Can we all take a moment to grieve the fact that we live in a country where this is the norm? Where government officials are murdered in their homes and within a matter of weeks or days, we just move on? Where children are experiencing the same level of violence we saw against Charlie Kirk on a regular basis? And where, without warning, we see it as we scroll through Instagram, then just keep scrolling?
Our inability to talk to each other is only half of the problem. If you enter into a conversation with the intention of changing someone’s mind, but you’re not willing to change your own, it was over before it started.
The other half of the problem is that we don’t trust each other. We avoid real conversations in part because we hold too tightly to our own beliefs. But also, we don’t trust that the person on the other side has anything worth listening too.
They don’t get it. Their sources of information are trash. They’re woke. They’re stupid. They have no empathy.
Maybe.
But if we can’t figure out a way to start talking, none of that is going to change. Yesterday it was Charlie Kirk. Yesterday it was students at Evergreen High School. You know the rest.
Twenty-four years ago, to the day, we found a way. It was short-lived and far from perfect, but I hope we can do it again and do it better this time.