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Political polarization is out of control. It doesn't have to be this way.

What I'm going to share here may well be futile, and many people who need to hear this message and take it to heart probably won't. But America is at a precipice we've been hurtling toward for years, and if we don't do something now to slow the momentum, I fear we'll soon find ourselves plummeting over a proverbial cliff, one and all. It's worth an attempt to pull us back from the brink.

We all know that political polarization in the U.S. is reaching a fever pitch. What many people don't seem to recognize is how they individually play a role in it, especially those who are adamant that the "other side" is to blame for the division. As a lifelong political independent, it's been terrifying to watch my fellow Americans become more and more entrenched in hyper-partisanship, seemingly unaware of how they themselves are contributing to the problem, simply by allowing themselves to be pulled further into the partisan binary.

left, right, politics, partisanship, political ideology We can't divide America into "left" and "right." Photo credit: Canva

Democrats say Republicans are the problem. Republicans say Democrats are the problem. The vast majority of us absentmindedly use black-and-white ideological terminology that line up with our political parties to describe our fellow Americans—liberal or conservative, left or right, red or blue—as if 342 million people fit neatly into two political/ideological boxes. As a result, many Americans have found a home and an identity in those boxes, and unfortunately, some have built them into fortresses from which to shoot at the other side—figuratively and literally.

But no matter how people feel about one box or the other, neither of them is really the problem that brought us here. The problem is the premise that they are built on, which is that there are two opposing sides in the first place. It was inevitable that partisanship in a two-party system would eventually lead to an intractable division featuring extreme, binary thinking pushed by those who benefit from that polarization. The "other side" isn't just different, it's depraved. The “other side" isn't just misguided, it's malicious. The "other side" isn't just wrong, it's evil. This kind of thinking is a feature, not a bug.

george washington, party politics, two-party system, farewell address, partisanship George Washington tried to warn us about the perils of partisanship. Giphy

George Washington tried to warn us about this in 1796 when he said that the "spirit of party" was America's "worst enemy" and would eventually lead us to our demise. We're right there, right now. Partisanship has been fully weaponized by those seeking and wielding power, pitting Americans against Americans, convincing them that the "other side" isn't just wrong, but evil. ("But the other side really is evil!" you might be thinking. Thank you for proving the point. The "other side" says exactly the same thing.) The walls of those political and ideological boxes have gotten so high and so thick that we've lost the ability to see one another's humanity.

Many things have gone into how we got here, of course, and there's plenty of blame to be tossed around. But instead of finger pointing when we talk about our polarization problem, what if we were to look inward and own our own individual part in it, whatever that might be?

I would love to invite every American of every persuasion to take a pause, zoom out, and honestly engage with these self-reflection questions:

Do I tend to label people as liberal/left or conservative/right based on what I know about their beliefs?

Do I assume a certain political party affiliation based on what someone looks like/how they dress/where they live?

Do I describe states and cities as "blue" or "red" and make judgments about those places based on those labels?

Do I use generalized terms like "the left" or "the right" to describe large swaths of the American population?

Does the media I watch or listen to speak in those binary terms? Is one used positively and one used negatively?

politics, political divide, polarization, division, party politics Partisanship is divisive in its very nature.Photo credit: Canva

Do I check multiple sources to find what's true before I react or form an opinion about something I see on social media?

Do I seek out a variety of commentary to genuinely try to understand different perspectives?

Do I contact my legislators when I want to see a change in policy, or do I just argue with people on social media about it?

Do I recognize when people are debating in an effort to seek truth and when they're using rhetorical tricks to "win" an argument?

Am I spending more time engaging with people online than I am in real life?

Do I pay more attention to the extreme voices on the political spectrum than to the moderate ones?

Am I aware of how social media algorithms affect what I see and am exposed to?

Do I see how the extreme element of the "side" I most align with is being used to paint my political persuasion in a negative light?

Do I see how the same thing is being done with the extreme element on the other "side"?

Do I acknowledge when someone from my "side" shares misinformation? Do I call it out?

misinformation, b.s., fake news, falsehood, calling out There''s b.s. all over the political spectrum. Giphy

Do I think of a large portion of my fellow Americans as enemies or adversaries? Why do I view them that way?

Do I want to see my fellow Americans as enemies or adversaries? How can I see them differently?

Am I suggesting we stop using labels like left/right, liberal/conservative, etc. altogether? As much as possible, yes. These labels barely help us understand one another anymore—most often they are used to stereotype people or to take one person's objectionable action and ascribe it to the entire "side." So much of our current situation is a result of the extreme generalization of Americans into two groups, when in reality, very few people actually think, believe, live, and act within the confines of however those group labels are defined. Most of us know this intellectually, of course, but it's so easy to be pulled by language to one extreme or the other in a polarized political climate, especially via social media.

That polarization is purposeful, by the way. Giving people a political identity and an "other side" to fight against is one of the easiest ways to gain political power. Unfortunately, it's also playing with fire. (And if you think only one party does it, think again. It's just much easier to spot when it's done by people we disagree with.)

We can't solve our problems using the same means by which they were created. We can't change the politics that weaponizes partisanship if we ourselves are furthering and fueling it with partisanized thinking and rhetoric. We can't respond to political and ideological extremism with more extremism, even if we think our extremism is justified. Literally every extremist thinks their extremism is justified. Black-and-white, us vs. them thinking is extremism. It's becoming so common, we're getting numb to it.

None of us is immune here—this stuff is designed to tap our most primal instincts—but we have to fight it in ourselves. When we feel a push or pull toward binary extremes (which is easily mistaken for believing we're on the righteous side of things) we can consciously pull ourselves back to a place where we see one another's humanity before everything else.

I'm not both-sidesing here or implying that there aren't any legitimate issues with any particular party/side/ideology. What I'm saying is that partisanized discourse has become a zero sum game and too many Americans are willingly being used as pawns in it. While we can't control what other people do, we can reflect on the part we as individuals play and dedicate ourselves to being part of the solution instead of contributing to the problem.

Of course, stepping away from political labels and partisanzied discourse won't instantly solve all of our issues as a nation. But if enough Americans refuse to play the partisan game and reject the binary rhetoric of left/right, liberal/conservative, red/blue, Democrat/Republican, perhaps we can help prevent the U.S. from plunging into the dark, dangerous chasm we've found ourselves at the brink of.

It's worth a shot, at least.

Politics has always been a mixed bag of genuine discussions about governance, inane partisan bickering, and ongoing struggles for power. As much as I wish we could engage in the first more often, it feels like politics in America has become far more of the latter.

Within those partisan power struggles, the language of politics gets skewed and molded to fit specific purposes. Sometimes, phrases are used as dog whistles calling on people's prejudices. Far too often, the manipulation of words and their meanings—political rhetoric—renders certain terms meaningless as they get tossed around without nuance or context. Ultimately, the repeated use of certain terminology ends up destroying discourse instead of adding to it.

This is by no means an exhaustive list, but here are 10 terms I'd love to see us flush from American political discussions:

1. "Real Americans"

There's no excuse for anyone ever using this term. To call certain people "real Americans" implies some kind of defining characteristic that some Americans have and some don't, which is the complete opposite of the country's diverse reality. And who would get to determine that definition, anyway? Do we go by majority? A full 82% of Americans live in urban areas. Does that mean city people are "real Americans" and the rural minority are not? Obviously, that's ludicrous—just as ludicrous as the idea that Americans in diners talking about the Bible are "real Americans." There's simply no such thing.


2. "Identity politics"

It's not that politics based on identity doesn't exist—it's that it has always existed. The entirety of American history is filled with white, land-owning men creating politics around their own identity and excluding people of different identities from the political process in both overt and covert ways. We are where we are because inequality and injustice necessitate pushing for policies based on identity, but let's not pretend that the concept is new. It's just that the identities that are finally getting a voice are those that were kept out by the white, male identity politics that dominated the nation for centuries.

3. "Elites"

This word may have had some meaning at some point, but now it gets tossed around to mean anyone who lives in a city, lives on a coast, has above a certain amount of money, or has a college education. I've also seen it used as a pejorative to describe experts in a field, which is just silly. While yes, there are uber-wealthy people with undue power in politics who can be rightfully scorned as "elites" for snubbing their noses at the concerns of the rest of us, that's a very small group of people. Dismissing the entirety of academia or the entirety of the American coasts or the entirety of people with post-secondary educations as "elitist" is a misuse of the word and needs to stop.

4. "Working class"

On the flip side, the term "working-class Americans" has far too narrow a meaning the way it's usually used. When someone says "working-class Americans" it's usually meant to conjure up images of generally white farm, factory, or mining workers toiling away somewhere in Middle America. Rarely is the term "working class" used to refer to Black or Latino or immigrant workers in big cities, even though they make up a huge percentage of what's technically considered working-class labor. Rarely is the economic anxieties of those urban workers utilized in the same way politically. (The term also makes it sound like only certain kinds of jobs count as "work," which is just weird.)

5. "Blue states/Red states"

The way our electoral system is set up makes the illusion of blue and red states a thing, but it's really not a thing. All states are mish-mosh of people, and all states are closer to 50/50 than 100/0 when it comes to red/blue, Democrat/Republican, liberal/conservative votes. I wish we could do away with those binary political labels altogether, but at the very least we need to stop assigning them to entire states. (And let's ditch the Electoral College that perpetuates the illusion altogether.)

There are lots of different versions of maps that more accurately portray the way the U.S. votes, but the truth is that every place is some shade of purple. And our differences are based much more along an urban/rural divide than a state line one.

6. "Career politician"

Yes, some people make a career out of being in government. Yes, there are some people who stay in politics for the wrong reasons or who have been in their positions for longer than they should. But let's stop saying "career politician" like it's automatically bad. Experience and expertise in any field is generally a good thing, and that's as true for public service as it is for anything else. Newcomers add fresh perspectives and voices to government, but there is also value in putting people who know what they're doing in powerful positions of leadership. We could address the negatives of long-term service by introducing term limits where there aren't any, but let's stop demonizing people who dedicate their lives and careers to public service.

7. "Socialism"

This word has a meaning, and it's not what the vast majority of Americans mean when they use it these days, on either side of the aisle. Socialism is a "social and economic doctrine that calls for public rather than private ownership or control of property and natural resources." Practically no one is advocating for actual socialism in the U.S. Some people think anything having to do with equality or equity is synonymous with socialism, but that's not anywhere close to true. Some people think universal healthcare is a slippery slope to a socialist state, even though they'd never think of public education in the same way. Some people just hear "radical socialist agenda" and start foaming at the mouth, even if what's being described as radical socialism would be considered center-right ideology in most democratic nations we consider our peers. And on the same note...

8. "Radical"

What is often called "radical" isn't really radical these days. The only reason that some things seem radical—as defined by advocating a sweeping change—is because of how long certain things have been allowed to remain status quo. The idea that anyone who works a full-time job should be able to afford to live is not a radical idea. It's just common sense. The idea that no one should go bankrupt or die because they have a medical issue isn't radical—it's the way people in almost every other country live. The idea that people should be able to live free from discrimination for being who they are is not a radical idea—it's simply freedom. The word "radical" is used to make any idea sound out-there, no matter how reasonable it might be in reality.

9. "Fascist"

Not everyone who enacts legislation we don't like is a fascist. Not everyone who pushes nationalism is a fascist. Not even everyone who uses prejudice and fear to drum up populist support is a fascist. Like socialism, this word has been thrown around so often as to have virtually no real meaning anymore. Fascism was a specific form of rule during a specific time and place in history, and though we can point to some similarities of thought or action between politicians now and then, they're not the same. It's not likely that an autocrat dictator would find success with actual fascist practices here, and labeling everything that smacks of authoritarianism or demagoguery as fascism muddies the waters. Authoritarianism and demagoguery are problematic enough on their own, and jumping straight to "Fascism!" enables people to dismiss legitimate concerns over them.

10. "Patriot"

A patriot is someone who loves their country and is willing to defend it. A patriot is not someone who terrorizes their own seat of government because they reject reality and don't like the way the voting went. A patriot doesn't defend an attack on our Capitol or the attempted overturning of an election. A patriot doesn't fly the flag of a defeated country that fought with the United States over the right to enslave Black people and nearly split the nation in two. A patriot doesn't try to keep Americans they disagree with or don't like from voting. A patriot doesn't accuse half of their fellow Americans of being demonic pedophiles. If the people who do any or all of those things are the ones calling themselves patriots, then the word is useless.

Words and their actual meanings matter. Let's discuss ideas. Let's debate policy. But let's do so without slinging around buzz words and phrases that oversimplify positions, play on people's prejudices, and remove the nuance necessary for reasonable discourse.

When your party and its leader are plagued by accusations that they support white supremacists, it's probably best to avoid staging large events with symbols reminiscent of those used by the Third Reich.

The Republican Party failed to do that at the Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC) last weekend. Instead, the main stage at the event was in the shape of the othala rune, a symbol used interchangeably with the swastika in Nazi Germany.

The conference was held at the Hyatt Regency in Orlando, Florida.



"In the 20th century, Nazis in Germany adopted the othala rune, among many other similar symbols, as part of their attempt to reconstruct a mythic 'Aryan' past," the Anti-Defamation League says on its website.

"Following World War II, white supremacists in Europe, North America, and elsewhere began using the othala rune," the site continues.

The symbol was present during the infamous 2017 Unite the Right rally in Charlottesville, Virginia where white supremacists clashed with counter-protesters, resulting in one death.

The symbol was used on the stage and it also appeared on the ceiling of the conference room as a lighting display.

With just about any other event it'd be fair to chalk up the stage's resemblance to a Nazi symbol as mere coincidence. However, the specter of the January 6 capital uprising — perpetrated by a slew of white supremacists — hung over the event like a gray cloud.

Senator Josh Hawley, who spoke at the event, wore his involvement in the insurrection as a badge of honor. "I was called a traitor, I was called a seditionist, the radical left said I should [resign], and if I wouldn't resign, I should be expelled from the United States Senate," Hawley, said. "I'm not going anywhere."

Matt Schlapp, chairman of the American Conservative Union and organizer of the conference, rejected the comparison.

"Stage design conspiracies are outrageous and slanderous," he tweeted on Saturday. "We have a long-standing commitment to the Jewish community. Cancel culture extremists must address antisemitism within their own ranks. CPAC proudly stands with our Jewish allies, including those speaking from this stage."

The Hyatt Regency in Orlando has "deep concerns" about the shape of the stage.

We take the concern raised about the prospect of symbols of hate being included in the stage design at CPAC 2021 very seriously as all such symbols are abhorrent and unequivocally counter to our values as a company. The CPAC 2021 event is hosted and managed by the American Conservative Union that manages all aspects of event logistics, including the stage design and aesthetics. We discussed directly with ACU leadership who told us that any resemblance to a symbol of hate is unintentional. We will continue to stay in dialogue with event organizers regarding our deep concerns. Any further questions can be directed to CPAC.

"With CPAC's denial of any intentional connection to hate symbols and our concerns over the safety of guests and colleagues in what could have been a disruptive situation, we allowed the event to continue," a Hyatt spokesperson told Reuters.

So, what could Hyatt and other places like it to avoid situations like this in the future? We think addressing the controversy and making their views on hate is a great start. Next, when choosing to book political conventions or events from anywhere on the ideological spectrum, it might make sense to have a consultant on hand. Someone who can be trusted to evaluate, analyze and raise flags of concern. People of differing views deserve the same freedoms and opportunities to gather and discuss their views. It's a quintessential American idea. But hate has no place in America. And until that ideal is shared by everyone, it's something we all have to work extra hard to address.

What happened at the U.S. Capitol on January 6 was a violation. Even Americans observing from home felt it. The loss of security. The destruction in the seat of our democracy. The peaceful transfer of power tradition broken. The flag of the United States being replaced by the flag of Donald Trump.

The details of the storming of the Capitol have only gotten worse as more footage has come out. It's now clear how narrowly our lawmakers escaped a rabid mob who had built gallows and chanted "Hang Mike Pence!", who sent men dressed in tactical gear and carrying flex cuffs into Congress chambers, who dared to carry white supremacist symbols through the hallowed halls as they trespassed, leaving a trail of literal piss and shit behind them.

Few Congress members have given detailed accounts of what they personally experienced that day, but there's no question it was traumatic for everyone involved. Lawmakers had to flee for their lives. People were killed in their workplace as they hid from the insurrectionists. They survived a terrorist attack. That's a big deal.

But it would be wrong to pretend the threat was equal for all lawmakers. Republican members of Congress who peddled election lies were not the target of the attack (some, in fact, appeared to be on the side of the insurrectionists). Considering the nature of the mob and what they were there for, the worst position to be in that day was to be Democrat woman of color.


Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez fits that bill. As an attractive, outspoken woman, she has also been a specific target of violent and often sexualized death threats online since she came to Congress. But it's one thing to deal with online trolls, even particularly troubling ones, and another to know that there is a mob who wants to kill you roaming the halls of your workplace looking for you.

Other women of color who serve in Congress spoke of their trauma and fears of the racist mob during the attack in a piece published on Slate yesterday. But AOC took to Instagram Live last night to share a much more detailed account of what she personally experienced.

The full video (shared below) is long, but it's worth watching. After making it clear that it's her personal story, not "the" story of the Capitol attack, she shared a detail that informed her experience and shouldn't be brushed aside. AOC is a sexual assault survivor—an admission she'd never made publicly before. It's an important detail because 1) It's not uncommon—approximately 1 in 5 American women have survived a rape or attempted rape, which means it's statistically likely that many other members of Congress are also survivors, and 2) That trauma colors other traumatic experiences—such as surviving a terrorist attack—since trauma tends to compound.

AOC's description of how she hid in the bathroom and thought she was going to die is harrowing, but details in the story require an understanding of her perspective as a survivor. For instance, as she was hiding in the bathroom, a man came into her office yelling "WHERE IS SHE? WHERE IS SHE?" In those few seconds, she literally thought she was going to die. It turned out the man was a Capitol Police officer, but he didn't announce himself as such. As she was hiding behind the bathroom door, all she could see was that he was a white man in a beanie cap. When her aide told her it was safe to come out, she did, but even then she said something didn't feel right, as the officer looked at her with anger and hostility.

She questioned if she was projecting. Maybe she was. That's the thing about having survived a sexual assault and knowing you're a target in an attack—you really don't know who you can trust. And considering how terribly prepared law enforcement was for the attack, she had reason to be fearful.

The officer told her and her aide to flee to another building but didn't tell them exactly where to go. She ended up banging on the door of Rep. Katie Porter's office and hiding out in there for hours. She changed out of her heels and into gym shoes that belonged to one of Porter's aides and borrowed a puffer jacket from Porter in case she needed to escape out a window and blend in with the mob. She worried about the aides who were willing to put themselves in between the mob and the lawmakers.

The simple telling of the story, with AOC talking straight into the camera, is powerful. It's a reminder that this is not just about politics, but about human beings, that what they experienced in that attack was real, and terrifying, and traumatic. And most importantly, it makes it clear that calls to "move on," as if the attack wasn't really a big deal or should just be forgotten, are wrong.

That point cannot be made any clearer. The lawmakers who don't want people held accountable for the Big Lie that led to American citizens attacking their own government in a violent coup attempt are wrong. The attack on the Capitol wasn't just a random blip—it was an enormously big deal. According to the Coup D'etat Project at the University of Illinois' Cline Center—an academic group dedicated to studying government overthrows around the world—Jan 6 was an "attempted coup d'état: an organized, illegal attempt to intervene in the presidential transition by displacing the power of the Congress to certify the election."

An attempted coup on behalf of an outgoing president who refused to accept the results of an election is unprecedented and unAmerican. And yet lawmakers are refusing to accept and acknowledge their role in supporting the basis for the coup. Even worse, some have called for AOC to apologize for being angry at the lawmakers who pushed the Big Lie—which she rightly called out as a manipulation tactic used by abusers to avoid accountability.

Unfortunately, one of the reasons people don't speak about traumatic experiences is that they fear they won't be believed. Not being believed just adds to the trauma, but it's a common scenario with sexual assault, as well as domestic violence and other forms of abuse. Considering the video footage we have of the Capitol attack, AOC's account of what she experienced is totally believable, but she's still being attacked for being "overly dramatic" or making it all up or using it as a way to manipulate people.

She literally just shared her experience and how she feels about it. Is she supposed to not do that? Is she supposed to remains silent so people don't have to be reminded of the trauma the whole nation has experienced? So that people culpable in the Big Lie can remain comfortable despite the trauma they contributed to? Eff that.

Telling her story is an act of courage and hopefully it will inspire other Congress members to share their own accounts. It shouldn't be necessary, and no one should feel pressured to relive their trauma for all the world to see, but since there's a whole lot of denial going on, we need to hear these stories to get the full picture of what the Capitol attack entailed and what it meant. There can be no "moving on" without fully investigating this attack on our country and holding those responsible for it accountable. To suggest otherwise is simply wrong.