My Dear Friend is a Republican
The rebuke of President Trump’s first month in office is nothing more than a mirror image of the popular vote that we all know he lost. From the women’s march to the press staying “woke,” it has been inspiring to see my fellow Americans refuse to be subdued by a dysfunctional, and dangerous, administration. Nevertheless, the Twilight Zone continues, and it appears that the melancholy of liberals is finally subsiding. It is being replaced by anger.
With an eye towards the future, the countdown has officially begun until the one-party stranglehold on Washington can be challenged. If the recent town hall explosion truly evinces a purple America, versus a red and blue country, then there is hope. Still, the American people, if not the world, don’t know what the game plan will be to effectuate the return of effective governance. We just long for the day where the sound bites from the White House will not mystify and/or scare the hell out of everyone. Enter my near daily conversations with a dear friend who is a Republican (and a Republican who voted for Hillary at that).
Our backgrounds could not be more different. My Republican friend grew up in homogeneous New Hampshire, the “Live Free or Die” state. I grew up in the melting pot of northern New Jersey. His circumstances shaped a conservative outlook: a devoutly religious family and work ethic akin to rugged individualism. He likes his government small, with the onus on its citizenry to take personal responsibility for their upward mobility. My circumstances shaped a more left-leaning outlook: a largely immigrant family whose history shows one does not pull their self up by his or her bootstraps alone. I prefer a robust government that helps foster upward mobility instead of creating barriers to the same. My dear Republican friend and I met in law school, and we disagree on a lot.
Before we met, I could count the number of friends I had who were Republican on a closed fist. Yet our friendship exemplifies what President Obama encouraged in his last presidential address: a step outside our respective echo chambers. Competitive banter, which has been both frustrating and exhilarating in our quest to make persuasive arguments, serves as a constant reminder that the issues which divide us are not so much political as they are human. Does a smaller military budget make our nation inherently less safe? Does healthcare for all create a supply and demand problem where having insurance is not cost-effective? Would the removal of certain federal regulatory agencies endanger Americans, or force states and localities to more efficiently serve their citizens? Does unchecked illegal immigration create wage suppression for low-skilled, American-born labor? Our arguments hardly ever center on partisan stupidity. Instead we focus on unpacking debate topics the way we were trained to cross-examine witnesses.
We have never argued over whether everyone should have access to affordable healthcare. Nor have we disagreed about the need for our military to have the resources it needs to keep us safe in a world where conventional combat is ever-changing. And we will never endorse the breaking up of families of undocumented immigrants. Rather, we call attention to points and ideas that ultimately are espoused by entire segments of people that the listener doesn’t usually engage.
It is one of my most treasured friendships, because in our ferocious debates the undercurrent is a voice advocating the opinions or concerns of a different America. Even if we’re opining on a stereotypically conservative or liberal agenda, the discourse accomplishes far more than those ridiculous 11-person panels CNN often bathes in. And when our conversations become heated, we are not dissuaded and revisit divisive topics, looking for common ground and ideas that make sense. While the Republican leadership in Congress has largely prioritized party unity, I know someone who doesn’t, which is a reminder I desperately needed when the election results came in. If it weren’t for that friendship, I would likely fall victim to the fear of the apocalypse that has plagued my liberal friends.
Instead, my refrain since President Trump took office has been that we do not live in a dictatorship. We have a sophisticated legal system and able supply of litigants willing to see their government in court. We have a majority of voters who, after losing on a technicality, are galvanized and regrouping. We have some elected officials willing to do their job, and others who are on the hot seat. We have progress from the last eight years, and longer, that cannot be undone overnight. We have a constitution.
President Obama was right — get off social media and try talking to those across the aisle. Embrace in-person discussion over the keyboard that more often than not sends everyone chasing red herrings. Otherwise you won’t just miss out on possibly finding someone who, despite being different politically, is a good person. You’ll miss out on the evolution that can only occur when we stop self-segregation.
During political discussions, our friendship has not necessarily moved either of us off the positions we take. Some stances have hardened, others have become more nuanced or tweaked. In the end, the underlying dialogue offers a glimpse of how to challenge the territorial, vitriolic nature of America’s politics. And you learn a thing or two about someone whose circumstances are different than yours, but who has the same vested interest in our country.
