Thursday, November 17, 2016

Notes to Sparty #11

Dear Sparty, 

You wouldn't have guessed from within the confines of your little temporary home, but it’s been a pretty interesting week here on the outside. I’d like to tell you about a couple of world events in particular because I hope you’ll find them interesting, but also because I’ve found that writing about stuff helps me process them in my own mind as well. 

Come to think of it, it’s probably why I started writing in the first place; to try and understand rather than attempt to explain. Will these events still be significant when you are reading this? I don’t know. Are millions of people affected by them now as I write this? Most certainly. So, let’s begin, shall we? 

On the 7th of November this year, on the west coast of the United States of America, a singer named Leonard Cohen passed away at the age of 82; the latest in a fairly long list of famous musicians for whom 2016 was the final curtain call. 

To be honest, I was never a big fan of his music, but Cohen was first and foremost a poet, which I think is why he appealed to me. He was up there, not as great as the great Bob Dylan (in my opinion, of course) but a formidable songwriter nevertheless; someone who could wrap a melody around melancholy and somehow make it strangely uplifting. 

Funnily enough, when I first started up this blog ten years ago, I put a line at the top of the page (which is still there) and it said: Blessed are the cracked, for it is they that let in the light. I didn’t realise this at the time, but it turns out that this is actually a variation of one of Cohen’s lyrics: There is a crack in everything; that’s how the light gets in. 

Just a few hours after news of his death, the first results of the US presidential election started coming in, and it was clear that something big was happening. Hillary Clinton, the first ever female candidate and a vastly experienced and accomplished politician, was starting to look like she might be beaten by Donald Trump, a controversial, supposed billionaire who had never held public office before. 

By the morning of 9th November, as Americans woke up to confirmation of this monumental upset, the eyes of the rest of the world turned to them as well, and mostly blinked in disbelief. Then came the deluge of news, analyses, editorials, opinion pieces, etc. etc. Some people were elated, some were distraught. Many, like me, were just stunned. 

In the hours and days since the result, I kept thinking about the Leonard Cohen line- there is a crack in everything. As an outsider looking at the US, it seemed like the cracks and splinters had grown into a full-fledged chasm. This had been a bitter, bruising campaign; a bloody slugfest rather than a virtuous democratic exercise. 

In the end, after Hillary got around 3 million more popular votes but Trump winning by virtue of the electoral collage (I will explain this one when I understand it fully myself), the world’s most powerful country appeared to be a nation divided, each side fuelled by hatred and mistrust for the other, and revelling in their differences rather than all the things they had in common. Could this be a microcosm of the whole of humanity?

I suppose it is easy to wallow in despair in the aftermath of a perceived tragedy, however big or small it might be, and I will admit to doing this for a few days. But then I forced myself to focus on the second part of the Cohen quote: that’s how the light gets in

Yes, there are a great many things to dislike about Trump, but there are also a great many things wrong with the way things are, not just in the US but around the world. Many of us are scared and concerned and confused, and when things are in tumult we turn to people who we think we can help us. It is a normal human reaction. 

So rather than judging the people who supported, endorsed, or voted for Trump, maybe our time will be infinitely better spent by thinking about what we do next, and how we can continue to combine forces to help solve problems that are bigger than one single country. 

Yes, people can be mean and petty and unreasonable, but the same people can be kind and fair and hopeful. People can judge you based on the colour of your skin, but people can also get together to help a Dad find the right coloured sippy cup for his autistic son. People can drop bombs on unarmed civilians in Syria, but people wearing White Helmets can also put their own lives on the line every day to help drag survivors out of the rubble. 

Perhaps this is the biggest challenge of them all, Sparty. To see the cracks for what they are, but to also look beyond them to the light. To recognise that there is always hope, and that as long as we are alive, we can help make a positive change. Once we realise that, maybe, just maybe, no problem will be too big. 

This is something I struggle with on a daily basis. I look at the crack and, unlike your mum, I get stuck. I don’t believe I can make a difference. I sometimes even think it’s not worth trying. But somewhere inside, I know it is. And I hope you will know it is too. Some weeks, like this last one, will be tough and dispiriting. But other weeks will be great and inspiring. And every day, we get to start work again. 

As for the US election, well, here’s what I wrote the day after, mostly as a reminder to myself:

Dear friends, welcome to the morning after the night before. As the outgoing President said, the sun did rise again. Our planet, this pale blue dot on a vast black canvas, still throbs with the same beautiful energy as it did yesterday. We still have the same choices we always did- to be kind, to live out our days as better versions of ourselves, to dream, and stretch the moments of magic and imagination. 

There will be turbulence along the way, but still we travel together with the fierce certainty that there is a place in the future, yet unseen, where we will lock hands and celebrate our shared humanity. And from that glorious vantage point, we will look back and reflect on how far we have come, despite seemingly insurmountable odds. 

So today, even though the smog of confusion and despair threaten to momentarily shroud the sun, let us keep moving forward, one tentative step at a time, until the final destination of our destiny comes into view. 

See you soon, Sparty. This beautiful world is waiting to welcome you. 

Love, your dad.

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