A Middle Child’s Call for a Middle Party
The political parties of the United States have been drifting to their edges after decades of fracture, restructuring, and conflict. But what if rather than drifting to the edges, we work toward the middle?
You must pick one or the other. Though it does not always come across so audibly, this notion is one that permeates numerous facets of our lives and guides our steps as we attempt to avoid the minefields it has laid. Illustrations of that dichotomy reveal that it has the potential to exist in significant as well as irrelevant ways when it comes to how we order our lives. Some cases make us revel in its ability to create exciting, enticing disagreements: Alabama vs. Auburn; Michael Jordan vs. Lebron James; or coffee vs. tea. However, far too often it serves as a conduit for anger, othering, and a method to dehumanize and disrespect those who do not fall on our side of the line: pro-life vs. pro-choice; defund the police vs. back the blue; and, fittingly, Republican vs. Democrat. My life has presented me with these options time and time again, but, as someone born in the middle of their siblings, as a black man who grew up in white society, and remained in the middle for so much more, I have been forced to reckon with the possibility that maybe everything is not so black or white.
The middle can be a terrifying place to be. Since having the capacity to form memories, I have existed in the middle. I am the middle child of three boys. My older brother, William — the six-foot-four, fair-skinned, light eyed, athletically talented, academically achieving, first-born son — could do no wrong. Opposite him and known by all as cute, artsy, gymnastically inclined, and unapologetic, my younger brother Michael served as William’s antithesis and archenemy. Consequently, my parents hovered over him because of the wrong he may do. In contrast to both, I did not directly receive compliments on my appearance, my skin is darker, my aptitude for sports, art, or school was fair though not outstanding, and I inhabited a plane of neither faultlessness nor deep-seeded worry in my parents’ minds. While both of my brothers stood out to my parents and the world, it gave me a chance neither of my brothers seemed to get: a chance to learn, work, grow, and thrive on the wayside.
As I explored, still witnessing the asymmetry between my life and my siblings, I became adept at existing in the middle. Where William got away with numerous activities, I began to understand how he flew under the radar. When Michael was caught blazing his own trail (and challenging authority at school), I learned just how much I could push before the levy of punishment broke. More than both of these, what I took away from observing my brothers was a sense that this middle ground is more than enough to accomplish whatever I set my mind to. And what I began to set my mind to was trying to bring people together, starting with my brothers.
Everybody has something particular in common with everybody else. People at the furthest reaches of reality from our present existence still have a preference of meat over veggies, cows as protein versus bugs, or a favorite game to play that involves seeing how far an object can be thrown. Unknowingly, I began to employ this not-fully-formed understanding into interactions with my brothers. Notwithstanding the animosity they felt for each other, all of us would watch WWE wrestling after school, energized by the high-flying action and insulting speeches made by each of the contenders. Since my dad disallowed any game console that wasn’t handheld, and because we were children who wanted to replicate what we saw on TV, we were left to amuse ourselves through other means. I suggested that we take the moves we saw in the ring and imitate them on William’s bed! With Michael being the youngest, smallest, and most daring (i.e., the easiest to pick up and throw around), he became the destined loser of the match while William explored his perennial-winner mentality. I, unsurprisingly, stepped into the “ring” as sparingly as possible, taking the title of referee. Despite all their differences, and though they would not have entered into these associations on their own, common footing emerged between them and community was created between the two. It was in these moments, and others like them, where the idea began to develop that my spot in the middle was not fraught. It meant that, despite differences and distances between two sides, a starting place exists where the two can come together.
Though growing up as a middle child posed its challenges, this was not the only identity that tugged me to choose between one side or the other. Even more challenging was this: growing up Black. I am Black, and in America — unfortunately — an idea exists that given this classification, you are supposed to be a certain way: your clothes are baggy and your pants sag; your accent and sentence cadence should fit within Ebonics, the African American vernacular; you have to be “hard” and “thuggin’” and having money means that you must flaunt it in ways that draw attention to the fact that you have money. This was not my reality. My reality was more or less how someone might characterize a “white” upbringing: I began piano lessons before I turned five and played through high school; my education began with childcare and Pre-K, then continued into Montessori at a Catholic private school; and my dad — who was around and married to my mother — practiced as an attorney, later becoming a Republican Texas Supreme Court Justice. (I must pause for a moment to state that I do not believe in racial classifications of this nature. Anyone can be whatever or whoever they want to be, and no one should be made to fit a mold because of the color of their skin. However, societal expectations imposed on us through several mediums have made these classifications reality, and so I cannot pretend they are nonexistent.)
When I began elementary school and developed a love for reading, various people in my life began to point out the inconsistencies between how I looked and how I behaved. Throughout elementary school, we would take trips to visit my cousins in San Antonio. Once the adults had left the room, my cousins, seeing our clothes, Gameboys, and toys, disparaged my brothers and me because our appearance did not conform to their perception of how Black people “were supposed to live and act.” In middle school, I vividly remember a phone call with my paternal grandmother that shocked me. Halfway through an otherwise normal conversation with my granny, she departed from the matter at hand to compliment me on the fluidity of my voice, enthusiastically telling me, “you sound very white!” Casting me further into a mold, classmates from first through twelfth grade pointed out that I was an “Oreo,” or that I was “the whitest black kid” they knew. All of this because I maintained good grades, completed my homework, assisted others with their schoolwork, and had aspirations to — and a real shot at — becoming successful. Time and time again I came to believe that I was not Black enough for Black people and I could never be white enough for white people.
This is no longer the view I hold — with time comes clarity. You cannot tell me that there is any one right way to be Black, just as you cannot tell me that there is any one right way to be white. It might be the case that my clothes are fitted or that my tongue chooses to recognize “r’s” and “g’s.” But those do not comprise who I am. Parts of me may fall very well into this false-narrative of whiteness that boasts high-paying jobs, respect, and success. Other aspects of my personality — my flat-top, love of rap music, and moments only the child of a Black mother would know — not to mention my skin-tone, will never let me escape “Black culture.” But this does not mean I am neither. The culmination of my interests, behaviors, and desires portends a novel circumstance so few are willing to deem “acceptable:” being in the middle and at all points along the spectrum at once. My choice not to lean into one or the other demonstrates an ability to exist, empathize, and evolve amongst the whole spectrum. That choice serves to promote growth, build commonality, and stifle divisiveness. We all share a common ground in some ways, and once that is understood, it does not matter that I listen to rap, country, EDM, or R&B music; no one cares that on some days I wear cowboy boots and others I wear Jordans; and even if our politics are not aligned, they can come back to me knowing that we share something in common. Once someone can see that commonality in one person they once believed different from themselves, it becomes much more difficult to continue attaching those same misperceptions on others.
As a middle child and a Black man in white society who has found the good present in both in-betweens, it now turns on me to attempt to show you how this discussion applies to our most divisive topic: politics. Many of us have affiliated ourselves with a political party because of our parents. I am no different. In the year I was born, and again less than four years later, my father rose to prominence in the state of Texas — two successful arguments before the United States Supreme Court will do that. Upon hearing of his successes, then-Governor Rick Perry appointed him to the Texas Supreme Court as the first African American justice on the bench. As part of this appointment, my father became a Republican. Every function I found myself constantly surrounded by Republican lawmakers, party icons, donors, and industries. At dinners, fundraisers, and other events I spotted few, if any, black people aside from my family. All of this was normal to me. More than that, the show of it all was exciting. So, for the better part of my non-voting years, I too was a Republican. Today it might seem odd, but back then, it never once dawned on me that “the party of Lincoln” could be anything but where I saw myself in politics — Republicans ran the great state of Texas; George W. Bush was president; and my dad was squarely in the middle of all of it. But, when Barack Obama was victorious in the 2008 election as a Democrat, and finally with someone who looked like me at the helm, I began to bristle at the idea that being a Republican was the end-all-be-all. Today, with President Obama out of office, the country more politically divided, and parties seemingly unwilling to work together, I began to wonder how we got to this point and if there was something that could be done to find commonality, bridge the divide, and begin working together towards positive gains for all. So, I began looking for answers in the post-bellum, free-Black era.
A condensed bit of history for context: Following the assassination of the Great Emancipator and the introduction of Jim Crow laws in the South by southern Democrats, Black people, when they could, mostly voted Republican — in 1932 between two-thirds and three-fourths of the Black population voted for incumbent Republican presidential candidate, Herbert Hoover. However, scorned by President Hoover and his fellow Republican’s refusal to pursue civil rights, coupled with northern Democrat’s extension of opportunities, Black voters began to have a reason to switch parties. With increased activity from local, not national, Democratic parties, by 1936, only 28% of African Americans voted nationally for the Republican presidential candidate. Following World War II and emerging from the Great Depression, Black populations once again began to migrate North away from oppressive Jim Crow regimes. Democratic President Harry Truman took office in 1945 and, following calls by civil rights activists, established the “President’s Committee on Civil Rights.” In October 1947, the committee released a report providing a roadmap for civil rights legislation and, in 1948, President Truman signed an executive order desegregating the military. In response to this and other pro-civil rights moves, numerous Southern Democrats split from the main party to form the “States’ Rights Democratic Party” also known as the “Dixiecrats.” (See where we’re going?)
The Cold War during the 1950s only furthered calls from African Americans to end this system of oppression as Soviets called out America for fighting for a free world while allowing maltreatment at home. Democrats in Congress pursued action to enforce equal treatment of people in the United States both in pursuit of personal beliefs and foreign perceptions. Though unsuccessful through legislation, the 1950s became a period of robust change as Democrat-appointed Supreme Court justices began to chip away at Jim Crow segregation in the landmark 1955 case, Brown v, Board of Education of Topeka. Though monumental, the case did little to change the landscape. With obstructionist numbers in the Senate from 1949–1959, Southern Democrats and Northern Republicans wielded the filibuster to prevent a majority of civil rights legislation from moving out of the chamber. In 1957, then-Senate Majority Leader Lyndon B. Johnson D-TX, helped to pass the first Civil Rights Bill since 1875. It was a weak bill. The act established a two-year commission on Civil Rights and created a civil rights division at the Justice Department. The Civil Rights act of 1960 was also passed, but only acted to extend the life of the commission and stipulated that voting records in federal elections needed to be preserved.
Following mass sit-ins at lunch counters in North Carolina, bus boycotts throughout the South, and Martin Luther King Jr.’s arrest and “I Have a Dream” speech, the need for another Civil Rights bill weighed heavily on the nation. The Kennedy administration began coordinating with congressional allies to pass a reform bill to address federal dollars used to enforce segregation. After President Kennedy’s assassination, Vice President Lyndon B. Johnson assumed office and continued those same pursuits. In February 1964, the House of Representatives approved the Civil Rights Act of 1964 with 138 Republicans and 152 Democrats supporting the bill. The bill was set to address numerous areas where discrimination was prevalent including prohibiting discrimination in public accommodations, in state and municipal schools, hiring and employment, and also incorporated the Powell Amendment which prohibited discrimination in any program receiving federal aid. The Senate passed the bill with a voting margin of 73 to 27 and the bill became law with the signature of President Johnson. Subsequently, in 1965 after protests in Selma, AL and the beating of the late Representative John Lewis on Edmund Pettus, Congress and President Johnson passed the Voting Rights Act of 1965 with vote margins in the House of 333 to 85 and 77 to 19 in the Senate.
This march through history, and the resulting flipped parties, sealed my realization that the parties were not simply the name they possessed. History is far more complicated than that. Observing Republicans as they are today, in Trump’s image, I could not dismiss the fact that they are no more the party of Lincoln today than are the Democrats the party of secession. As those lines began to blur, it dawned on me that the parties of today are conglomerations of those who were unable to give up the name they once held and the direction their ideologies drifted toward. Viewing the progression of the parties this way, the partisanship that has manifested today, was the natural course that would occur as drift continued. But, even as the two sides continued their drift toward either end of the extreme, it did not mean that there were no representatives who neglected to abide by original, albeit warped, tenets. Democrats, today, remain the party of expression of individual perspectives and the right to pursue lives unencumbered by the control of others. Republicans are staunch supporters of order and the control of the government over aspects of society that threaten to corrode liberties of the individual and the masses. Fracture has occurred in what they have chosen to align those ideals behind. However, this does not mean that this track toward ends of the political spectrum is inevitable. Rather than allowing either side to entrench themselves in pinnacle forms of their ideals, it would behoove us to meet the plan proffered by our founders through a middle party that will “[comprehend] in the society so many separate descriptions of citizens as will render an unjust combination of a majority of the whole very improbable.”
James Madison wrote this apt solution to tyranny of the majority in Federalist №51. The Federalist papers were a series of essays written by future Supreme Court Chief Justice John Jay, Alexander Hamilton, and James Madison. These essays were meant to allay fears and persuade the country to adopt the Constitution we live by today. One of the fears prevalent today and that gives me cause to speak, tyranny of the majority, was at the forefront of the founders’ minds. The problem they faced was quelling the “united common interest” of the majority when its pursuit would make insecure the rights of the minority. Whether that is Democrats subservient to Republicans or Blacks subservient to whites, the threat is all the same: the majority will exploit and oppress the minority to achieve its aims. Madison offered two solutions to this problem, one of which has worked well up until the modern digital age: 1) “creating a will in the community independent of the majority;” and 2) “comprehending in the society so many separate descriptions of citizens as will render an unjust combination of a majority of the whole very improbable.”
A shared community will, independent of the majority, has been seen in few circumstances. Occurring most frequently during war or disaster, this solution only rears its ugly head when things become grotesquely unavoidable, and the country seemingly has but one choice: respond. At a time where we are faced with a number of threats such as climate change, the coronavirus pandemic, and cyber-attacks on our critical infrastructure, it would seem that we could come to common ground to help minimize partisan tensions. But, as we have seen in the past few years, even these types of incidents don’t seem to garner a response strong enough for us to dispel partisan differences. And if these forces are no longer adequate to mitigate the harms of whomever reigns in the majority from affecting the rights of the minority, it must turn on the second solution: comprehending separate descriptions of citizens.
That word “comprehending,” as used here, does not carry the same connotation we colloquially understand today — grasp mentally or understand. When Madison wrote Federalist №51, the use of “comprehending” meant “include” or “comprise.” In other words, to prevent majorities from taking control — to keep the approach of either of my brothers or the false dichotomy of being Black or white — we must identify the gray or other area between two distinct sides to reduce their grip on control. Here is where a middle party could act to bridge the divide, bring the two sides together, and better equip the country to tackle issues we all agree are pressing.
Both with my brothers and with the Black and white communities, it has been my experience that although people appear different on the surface, we all share some common elements that enable acknowledgement of our shared humanity. We all share core desires, and we can all benefit together through conversation, negotiation, and compromise. For me, I first made this realization when my brothers and I were each gifted with Amazon gift cards in 2008. As stated earlier, each of us is different and has different desires. William would undoubtedly put the money toward new basketball shoes or gym equipment; Michael would order parts for a computer he was constructing; and I would order more fantasy and history books. However, as I added the gift card amounts together in my head, I came to a different desire. I made a proposal to combine the money we had to gain a prize we all wanted, that we could share, and that we could all use together: an Xbox. Individually, none of us could purchase this console, but together we could attain it, two controllers, and two games. Knowing this common ground among us, they both agreed, and by the end of the next hour, we placed our order, together. We never could have accomplished separately what we were able to do together. New negotiations would arise for the use of the Xbox, but the benefit reaped from collective action harmonized the desires we each had and multiplied the results. The bridge stretching over a large expanse, connecting two separate sides, can facilitate an exchange of ideas, resources, and progress for all involved. Just as my brothers benefited from this bridge, American politics can see limitless growth if only they are made to see the bridge that unites them.
Those that accept the differing viewpoints of others, that simultaneously do not discard their own beliefs, should elevate their voices in unison to disrupt the chorus screaming that we must choose between one side or another. There are presently examples of individuals who are able to see that it is possible to see a line drawn in the sand and recognize that it is a boundary of the mind and not one that actually prevents one from crossing over and back again. The United States and state governments handle matters far more complicated than the purchase of a video game system, but the core principle remains true. Congressional Members, Presidents, Governors, and Legislators often receive much animosity from either party because they have not committed to either side. More important than hopping on the bandwagon is adhering to the idea that commitment to country, constituents, and community must rise above party allegiances. We can and must recognize this goal. When Senators Joe Manchin D-WV and Kyrsten Sinema D-AZ resist calls from their Democratic colleagues to pass what they believe is an intrusive voting bill, or when they believe the price tag is too high on spending measures, it does not mean they are disloyal traitors. They are remaining in the middle and able to see the views of all their constituents. When Senator Mitt Romney R-UT defied Trump and voted to impeach for his actions prior to January 6th, it showed a desire to uphold the sanctity of Democracy over one man and one party. The late Senator John McCain R-AZ rebuked the GOP’s efforts to eliminate Obamacare because he knew that, even though his core supporters disliked the program, other constituents relied on it to protect their families’ health. These legislators exhibit true understanding of American citizens other officials dispose of in exchange for electoral longevity, ego inflation, and praise for a hollow, fickle loyalty.
At the heart of all of this is my belief that the two political sides and the gate-keeping they employ, requiring everyone who identifies with them to identify with all of their platforms, is anti-American. Each side believes it is a large enough tent for everyone to fit under, yet this is far from the truth. Even more redolent is the supposition of ideology that both sides plaster onto the other. All Democrats want to tax every American so they can fund socialist programs. All Republicans care about is benefiting those at the top. All Democrats kill babies. All Republicans are trying to save babies. Democrats want to defund the police. Republicans back the blue and demand respect for our officers in uniform. These statements are sweeping denunciations of the breadth that exists when you begin to notice that there are 330,000,000 people in this country who have widely varying perspectives from religion and occupation to the role of government and family. No, I refuse to believe that an “All” statement can have any viability and refuse to accept that this is the only way things can be done.
While I believe individuals should be able to uphold their values and fight for what they believe in, there are far too many issues that divide us that we should not be wasting our time on. Ask me what I think about abortion, the police, international policy, or any other partisan subject and you will get a version of the same answer I would give if asked to pick between the Cowboys and the Jets: I believe “X,” but others should be able to decide that they prefer “Y.” I will go ahead and say that this principle only extends so far: the Spurs are the greatest NBA basketball team; LGBTQ+ people are—1) people — deserving of rights same as anybody else; racists are abhorrent and racial divides are antithetical to the American ideal; women should be paid as much as men; hurting someone else is wrong. When it comes to the laundry list of subjects we spend time, energy, and resources bickering over, my stance will fall in line with the above principle with those caveats listed shortly after. The point of saying this is that there is no one right way to be a Democrat or a Republican, just as there is no one way of being Black, white, straight, gay, a man, a woman, a Texan, or any other identifiable, non-occupational group.
Democrat and Republican voters that do not identify with their party, or only identify with them in part, are numerous enough to represent a significant chunk of the voting spectrum. Their size is possibly enough to gain representation in Congress; and certainly enough to show both Democratic and Republican lawmakers that their majorities are not as secure as they once believed. A moderation can begin to pull the parties back to their centers. I reiterate and clarify: this is not meant to create moderates out of all party members. The goal is to bring a commonality back to politics so that the whole may benefit more than one individual side. There are far too many issues of great consequence to both sides and their constituencies for there to be so much disagreement. It is not either or; it is not one or the other; it is not this or that.
It is silly to think that debates today should lead to ruin, but those arguments symbolize a chipping away of our ability to work together. While our legislative aims may be different, they are not so different that they preclude mutual understanding and recognition that we are all on the same ship. Trading off from one side to the other will have us repeating this same, sad dance until one side emerges to give the ill-equipped ship a pathetic and short-lived direction. Every rowing team needs its coxswain to steer and coordinate the rhythm. Without this guide, our rowers will continue to paddle, backs to the future, running aground, and losing the race. This country deserves to stay in the race, and it can win — for everyone involved.
America needs a third, middle party. And I do not mean any number of third-party candidates like the Green Party, the Libertarians, or any other fringe group. Repeatedly, citizens often do not participate in elections because there are no candidates who represent them. At the end of the day, we either choose a Democrat or a Republican. If we choose neither, we will still be stuck with a Democrat or a Republican. We live in a representative democracy that prides itself on listening to the citizenry, enabling progress, growth, and innovation. But when roughly a third of the people do not vote, and when two-thirds vote almost simply because they feel obligated to do so, we get stuck with representatives who pride continuity over progress. When candidates only win with fifty percent of the vote, only a third of the country is represented. Far too many interests are forgotten about when so few people vote and are unrepresented. Additionally, many elected officials simply want to keep their supportive, voting constituents, rather than “the people,” happy. I cannot accept that. When a candidate is elected to office, their responsibility is to the citizens of the district they represent, and their duty is owed to the Constitution.
It falls on us, the children of liberty, to uphold the values that were set forth in our founding document and to ensure its extension to all people in the United States. We must work to curtail the wiles of extremity to prevent an unraveling of our Democracy at the hands of those whose aim is self-aggrandizement at the expense of so many. This is my call to exhume the principles lying dormant in so many of us when we are confronted with choices we feel are wholly unsatisfactory or antithetical to resolution. From this Black, middle child, we need our bridge, we must have an understanding of our common humanity, and our ship needs a coxswain. Simply put and loudly pronounced, we need a middle party to ensure that we remain competitive, innovative, powerful, considerate, and true to ourselves and our country.
