Hours home from the Women’s March in D.C., I was still absorbing the experience. Half a million or more of us were packed for hours in a claustrophobic crush of humanity, and experienced nothing but good will.
Back on the bus for the last cramped nine hour leg of our trip home, Ziggy, our Rally Bus driver asked, “What’s wrong with you guys? You had no complaints! People always complain on these trips.” His smile was large as we presented him with our “pass-the-hat” tip and a bag of homemade cookies in appreciation for his unflagging patience, wit, and humor our entire trip.
At home, I pored over news about the marches. No violence. Not in DC, not in Montpelier, in Vermont, where I now live. Not in my former hometown, Portland, Oregon, where many initially peaceful protests in recent months have turned violent. Millions of diverse people around the world had shared their viewpoints with respect and kindness.
And then I came to Mary Chapin Carpenter’s post. Like so many people lately, particularly those with large public followings: Author Jane Yolen, Singer Carole King, Educator Kylene Beers, Mary Chapin Carpenter had experienced hateful postings on her facebook wall and had to call people out.
“Those of you who have checked in here in the last few days may notice that certain posts and related follow up threads have been removed. These posts contained obscenities, inflammatory rhetoric, intentional falsehoods, ugly statements, provocative images and phrases that any reasonable person would find objectionable.”
These are difficult times. A friend and I were recently commiserating the weight and sadness of having family members on opposite sides of a political divide that seems a Grand Canyon of the heart.
I have been shocked by the hatefulness of posting on social media. It’s been a building issue for some time, but surrounding the recent election, it seems so much worse. I understand that fearful people do not always present their best selves. But these nasty, claws-out personalized attacks toward/between strangers are bewildering, frightening, make one feel out of balance in the world we live in.
Mary Chapin Carpenter, whose witty and often lyrical wordsmithing , has been a constant backdrop for my life continued:
“I consider my social media platforms to be a 21st Century version of a front porch. In that spirit, those who traffic in ugly, hateful, derogatory and diminishing words are not welcome here.
In peace, love and music ~ mcc”
I embrace Mary’s front porch analogy. Porches are places we share as invited guests. They are intimate spaces where we can look each other in the eye. We tend to bring our better selves to face to face meetings, when our words are shared to the rhythm of rockers,
sweetened by sweating glasses of iced tea, and tempered by the combined wisdom of our company.
It was much like that in the recent marches. We were all guests sharing the “front porch” of the cities in which we marched. We were intergenerational, interdemonimational, multicultural, and diversely gendered. We shared our hopes, fears, and the rawest concerns of our hearts on proffered signs, often in such intimacy, we could hear each other’s breathing. And there was nothing but peace.