Desperately Searching for Something Positive

Last Saturday, my husband and I were at our cabin in northeastern Oklahoma. I was lying on one of the beds on our screened porch working on an article I was writing. The weather had been unseasonably pleasant for early August. In fact, we had not even turned on the window unit air conditioner we have in one of the four rooms of our small cabin. A thunderstorm had passed through the area only an hour earlier, and I had enjoyed listening to the rain hitting our deck as the wind whipped through the trees. There was a breeze across my face. I was appreciating those simple moments of awe that come with being at our cabin.

My phone, which was beside me on nightstand, suddenly lit up with a breaking news message. I’ve been trying really hard to “unplug” on weekends. But when I looked at the phone, I saw the words “Mass shooting in El Paso.”

Not long after the 2016 election, I saw a cartoon posted on my cousin’s Facebook page that read, “My desire to stay well informed is currently at odds with my desire to remain sane.” I think of that cartoon often. Last Saturday, I interrupted my momentary feelings of calm to click on the news link.

By now, we all know what happened. A 21-year-old white man from Plano, Texas drove more than 10 hours to a Walmart in El Paso for the sole purpose of killing “Mexicans.” Using an AK-47 style rifle, he opened fire killing 22 people and wounding 24 others. Those killed included 13 American citizens, eight Mexican nationals, and one German citizen. They ranged in age from 15 to 90 years of age. There were stories of terrified children running through the store as the shooting began. A 25-year old mother died while shielding her 2-month old infant son from the bullets. The infant’s 23-year old father was also killed. An 86-year old grandmother was killed while waiting in the checkout line. A 63-year old grandfather was killed while shopping with his wife and his 9-year-old granddaughter for back to school supplies.

Twenty minutes before the killing spree began, the killer posted a document online in which he expressed hatred for Hispanic people and detailed a plan for a deadly attack on the Hispanic community in the United States. In that document, he used words that have often been used by the current President of the United States and other white supremacy groups.

El Paso police responded to the scene within six minutes. Police say the killer has showed no remorse or regret.

Just hours later in Dayton, Ohio, another shooter armed with a .223-caliber high-capacity rifle fired at least 41 shots into a crowd in an entertainment district, killing nine people including his younger sister, before he was killed by police. According to the Dayton Police Department, the killer had 100-round drum magazines, which allowed him to shoot up to 100 rounds before pausing to reload. In just 30 seconds, he killed the nine individuals and injured 27 others. Fully loaded, his magazines would have carried 250 rounds of ammunition.

I’ve spent the past three years working on my own personal development and trying to find understanding and common ground with people who have different viewpoints. For the past two years, I’ve spent a considerable amount of time searching for moments of awe; trying to find positivity and unity in what appears to me an eroding semblance of the humanity that I thought existed, but in reality, probably never did. Every Sunday, I read Maria Shriver’s Sunday Paper, a digital newsletter “to inspire your heart and mind” and “provide hope for the path ahead.” But the task of finding hope and inspiration is getting harder and harder for me.

A few weeks ago, I saw Aaron Sorkin’s Broadway adaptation of To Kill a Mockingbird. Full disclosure – I love everything Aaron Sorkin has ever written. I’ve had several people complain to me that Sorkin is “too liberal.” They are entitled to their opinions. I just happen to like the fast-paced, smart dialogue of his characters. When I found out that my favorite screenwriter was adapting my favorite book ever to the Broadway stage, I knew I had to find a way to see the production.

I believe that Sorkin maintained the heart of the book and the 1962 film in which Gregory Peck won an Academy Award for his portrayal of Atticus Finch. But Sorkin’s Atticus, which has been portrayed by Jeff Daniels since it opened in 2018, is edgier and more complicated than the Atticus that Peck portrayed. One critic said that Daniel’s Atticus more closely resembles the Atticus of Harper Lee’s Go Set a Watchman, the book that was published after her death and which many scholars believe is a rough draft for Mockingbird.

There were many moments during the production that took my breath away, probably because of the familiarity of recent language that I find painful. But the part that I haven’t stopped thinking about since seeing the play was an exchange between Atticus and Calpurnia, played by LaTanya Richardson Jackson. In a much expanded role for Atticus’ African American maid, Calpurnia challenges Atticus’ appeal to his children to try to understand other’s perspectives – “to climb in his skin and walk around in it” – as well as the lengths to which we should extend tolerance to people whose views we disagree with and even condemn.

I’m also struggling with whether my efforts to understand viewpoints that I find abhorrent is really the best thing. The reality is that I don’t want to extend an olive branch to people who believe that white people are superior because I just don’t believe there are “good people on both sides” of that perspective. I don’t want to extend tolerance to people who espouse against the “Mexican invasion” because when they aim their assault rifles at “brown people,” they may be aiming at my friends. It’s hard for me to feel compassion and empathy toward people who spew hate. It’s hard for me to be understanding when frankly, I’m scared to death.

Because this blog is meant to highlight things that are positive, I’ll continue to honor that promise even in the face of continued horrific tragedy. On my flight to Oklahoma last week, I read an article in the August 2019 issue of the Southwest magazine, entitled “The Man Who’s Mowing the World.” The article was about an African American young man, Rodney Smith, Jr., who has devoted the past few years to providing free lawn care for older people, those who are disabled, single mothers, and veterans. Known as the “lawn mower man,” the 30-year-old started a non-profit in 2016 called Raising Men Lawn Care Service. When he’s not doing yard work, he distributes supplies to the homeless or speaks to student about his work.

After hearing the news from El Paso and Dayton, I kept trying to focus on the story about Rodney Smith, Jr. I also read the story about the “Teeter-Totter Wall,” custom-built seesaws that have been placed on both sides of a border fence along the Mexico/New Mexico border. University of California Berkeley architecture professor Ronald Rael and Virginia San Fratello, an associate professor of design at San Jose State University, designed the project to allow children from both sides of the border to play with each other.

You can judge me if you want, but this week I also retreated back into an Aaron Sorkin world by binge-watching the first season of The Newsroom, my favorite television show ever. For those who haven’t seen The Newsroom, it is about the transformation of a fictional 24-hour news cable network, Atlantis Cable News (ACN) to “do the news well in the face of corporate and commercial obstacles.”

In the first episode, the lead character, Will McAvoy (also played by Jeff Daniels) was a panelist at a college event. A student asked McAvoy to respond to why “America is the greatest country in the world.” McAvoy then delivers a typical Sorkin-esque statistics-laced soliloquy describing why America isn’t the greatest country in the world. That clip from the show still gives me goose-bumps even after watching it dozens of times.

In the last episode of season 1, McAvoy had been struggling with a magazine story written about him in which the author of the article called him “the greater fool.” In one of the last scenes of the episode, the economic reporter, Sloan Sabbath, played by Oklahoma native Olivia Munn, said to McAvoy, “The greater fool is someone with the perfect blend of self-delusion and ego to think that he can succeed where others have failed. This whole country was made by greater fools.”

McAvoy contemplated that for a moment, then he turned around in the anchor chair and spotted the young student from the college event. She was at ACN to apply for an internship. McAvoy recognized her and asked her why she wanted to work at ACN.

“I watch the show,” she replied. “And, I read the New York magazine article, and I know what a greater fool is, and I want to be one.”

“Ask me again,” McAvoy demanded. “Ask me your idiot question again.”

“What makes America the greatest country in the world,” she asked?

“You do,” McAvoy replied to the young woman.

Prior to his tirade at the college event in the first episode of season 1, McAvoy thought he spotted his ex-girlfriend, MacKenzie McHale, in the audience holding up a note pad with the words, “It isn’t.” McHale, played by Emily Mortimer, then flipped the pad to the next page, which read, “But it can be.”

There was a time that I actually thought the United States was the greatest country in the world, but I don’t anymore. However, when I hear stories about Rodney Smith, Jr. and initiatives like the Teeter-Totter Wall, I have hope that it can be.