Let me tell you about Andy and Annie.
In early 2017, I was still working as a district staffer for my local Congressman. Reflecting the style of our boss, the office staff prided itself on working with folks of all stripes – and all political leanings – to help them solve problems as best we could. In that role, I met with a lot of people. Too many to count.
But Andy and Annie stick out to me still. They were young, idealistic volunteers and relatively new to the advocacy realm when we met. We were in similar places in life, and many of the causes important to me were close to their hearts as well. And as a relatively moderate Republican, I didn’t give two hoots that they were registered as Democrats. Who cares? Ultimately, partisanship isn’t a big deal when you’re serving a higher cause.
By the time of this meeting, early in the Presidency of Donald Trump, the three of us had met a number of times. We’d talked directly about their issues and positioning their organization for success. I even gave them tips on how to help their peer-level volunteer advocates get connected with other members of the Ohio delegation. We had a pretty good rapport.
But early to mid 2017 was a…fractious…time for the country. With all that’s happened in the interim, it may be difficult for you to recall just what was going on at the time.
Domestically, we were bombarded with stories about the inauguration and subsequent protest events, complete with riotous activity in the capital area. We were also entering tense debates over taxes and healthcare policy. Internationally, we were confronting the ongoing Syrian civil war, the swelling of ISIS in Iraq and, notably, an ascendent North Korea on the brink of a major weapons development (the ability to launch nuclear tipped ICBMs that, in theory, could reach the US Homeland). Generally speaking, it was an anxious time for a lot of folks (with more than a few interesting parallels to today).
In the middle of all that I got a call from Andy and Annie asking if they could come in separately from their normal organization meetings. Of course! I was happy to spend some time with them.
From the moment they walked in, the meeting assumed a different tone than normal. Far from sanguine, both Andy and Annie were visibly distressed. Knowing they weren’t the types for needless affectation, I quickly took them to a quiet office so we could get right to the substance of their visit.
“Aren’t you worried the country won’t be here in a few months?”
Andy came out of the gate with that question. I was taken aback. These weren’t alarmists I was dealing with. These were folks I’d known to be optimistic, happy warriors eager to make a difference in the world. But in a matter of months, they’d changed drastically. It was startling.
I asked them to explain a little more about what they meant by the question. After all, it was a bit of a doozy.
Over the course of the next hour, they walked me through the roller coaster of emotions they’d experienced since the election and through to that meeting. Wired into partisan messaging, they were in a fit of politically-induced pique. But there was something more to it. I’d always known Andy and Annie as hopeful people investing in the future.
And then Andy hit me with another doozy of a question: “how could I sit there and not fear that man in the White House?”
“The Republic is bigger than any one man, and I know we’ve got a bright future ahead.”
I don’t know where the answer came from – it was almost an autonomic response. But I remember feeling an immense peace as the words left me. At that moment, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was, in fact, not worried about any of it. And you know the funny thing? I still feel that way.
I think about Andy and Annie all the time. I think of their progression to that last meeting we had. Sadly, that day in Spring 2017 was the last time I heard from them. I’m not sure if it’s because my answer was unsatisfactory, or if I’d somehow turned them away unintentionally. On tough days, I find myself hoping they left the office that day feeling even the slightest bit renewed and less worrisome. But I’ll probably never know the rest of the story.
In the intervening years, the republic has – in fact – endured. Bigger than any one man, we’re still here, and lots of us are still trying to make the world a little bit better for the next generation.
Unfortunately, in the last few weeks, I’ve noticed a familiar trend among my peers. That same angst that plagued Andy and Annie is seemingly rearing its ugly head again and equally afflicting friends of mine along the political spectrum. I’m seeing more and more posts that the “country is doomed” or “we won’t be recognizable in 2024.” I’d challenge you today to push back on that narrative.
By no means has our nation achieved perfection. We never will. But the point has never been that we reach that point of utopia, rather that we continue to strive toward a more perfect union. Unfortunately, today’s rhetoric is dismissing the idea of a bright American future. We’re seemingly casting aside the prospect of American innovation and ingenuity. That singular belief, from my perspective, is the most dangerous idea worming its way through our national discourse.
In my book, that dog won’t hunt. Trace it to tribalism, chalk it up to partisanship, hell just say it’s a generational symptom of millennials. But the truth remains, those who cannot envision a brighter future will never aspire to creating one.
We owe it to ourselves to check that belief when we catch it. We owe it to those coming up behind us to redouble our efforts to spur positive, thoughtful collaboration between people from all walks of American life. We owe it to our forebears to live up to what they’ve always shown us: the experiment is bigger than any one of us. It’s a worthy cause.
Part of the Possible 