Who are we? This is a question that persists in everyone’s mind.
It influences every step we take, every belief we cherish, and every choice we make. In search for the answer, most of us constantly label ourselves and others, narrowing our perspectives into certain social spheres to better understand both ourselves and the world. Two of the most pertinent labels that have assailed our nation for some time — especially in the face of recent tragedies — are Republican and Democrat.
Political issues have been at the forefront of our minds since the birth of our young nation. However, as tensions rise, and violence and hate attempt to dominate free society, partisanship has become more than a label. Rather, it is an indicator that many of us rely on to determine who someone is.
It seems that we forgot the most significant and obvious indicator of them all: our humanity.
The pain, loss, compassion, and anger we feel regarding recent tragedies (or politics in general) remind us of one central fact: we’re human. Above any political party, label, or stereotype, we are all, first and foremost, people.
Political polarization has divided the nation like an earthquake splitting America’s soil in two. We’re all familiar with tragedy in this country and the world. And every time it strikes, as it inevitably will, we are divided further. We create an “us versus them” concept, attempting to justify conflicting behaviors. This is the reality we’re living in.
But what’s the common theme in all this division? Simple. We care. We care enough about what’s important to us to be divided on it in the first place. If we can acknowledge that underlying theme, we’re reminded of each other’s intentions. What are we fighting for if not for each other? If not for the promise of a better tomorrow?
We’ll never fully agree on how to achieve that tomorrow, but if that goal is our overall purpose, why do we choose to be so selective with who or what it entails? The second we answer that question with fervent cries of blaming others and “they started it,” is the second we remain separated by party labels, rather than unified in our shared humanity.
Disagreement is natural, inevitable, and exemplifies our humanity. That’s the beauty of free expression. It’s more than an American principle. Rather, it’s a primitive characteristic of two essential things that make us human — our voices and our ability to reason. Both qualities allow us to be heard, but we also need to know when to listen.
During a lecture on free speech in my Mass Media Law class, UCF Professor Christopher Heath quoted Rosa Luxemburg, who once said, “Freedom is always and exclusively freedom for the one who thinks differently.”
When we both care and disagree, it can be challenging to respect this freedom for all — especially when anger over disagreements turns into hate.
But it’s essential to remember that “speech counters speech,” a central point made in Professor Heath’s lecture. If we attempt to silence those we disagree with, we amplify their voice while weakening our own. By respectfully countering words with words, we are reminded that debate can coexist with compassion, and we can accept one another despite our differences.
Before we were opponents, we were neighbors, friends, family, and peers. No matter our opinions and beliefs, that’s where we all begin. We bleed the same, laugh and cry the same, and we’re all cut from the same cloth. Whichever metaphor you choose, the meaning remains: Despite the many ways we try to categorize ourselves into the best and worst of people, our shared humanity is the one thing we will always have in common.
Politics and labels do not define who we are; they’re an accessory to our values. At the end of the day, we’re all human. Our choices are what define the type of people we are. We can’t control others’ opinions, actions, or choices, but we can control our own. Maybe there’s a possibility that if more people chose to love, to empathize, to stay open-minded, to look beyond propaganda, and to meet hate with kindness instead of anger, the impact could be profound.
That choice can begin with us. My hope for our country does not rest on any single politician, but on the people. After all, the greatest changes in our world have never come from one person’s ideas alone, but from the collective voices and those who were willing to listen to them.