When the Mourning Comes
“Earnest Hemingway once wrote: ‘The world is a fine place, and worth fighting for.’ I agree with the second part.”
These words, delivered by a weary Morgan Freeman in the final lines of the classic thriller Seven, have been ringing in my ears for a while now. Seriously, I just can’t get them out of my head.
The clock on my laptop reads 1:53 AM as I type the sentence. My alarm is set for a little over four hours from now, and shortly after that, I’ll spend the day driving across two states to see family, and celebrate our daughter’s first birthday. So why am I awake?
Maybe it’s because right now, Minneapolis is burning. In response, I know that at this very moment there are thousands of people hunkering down in their respective ideological camps, furiously working on Facebook posts, op-eds, editorials, Tweets, and everything in between, all about how this confirms their biases. Just before starting this essay, I saw a clip on Twitter of the raw devastation taking place in Minneapolis. I made the mistake of scrolling through the replies, knowing exactly what I’d find. Many people justified the looting of a Target, and the burning of buildings as “necessary.” Others made disgusting jokes, or dismissed all possible sincerity to any of the protests. A few spewed overt racist garbage. Lastly, a small minority of commenters said something reasonable and nuanced. A very small minority.
Perhaps I can’t sleep because I was called a racist for saying I didn’t know if Ahmaud Arbery or George Floyd were murdered for the color of their skin, but wholeheartedly agree they were needlessly murdered. On the same day, I was told that I was doing “the devil’s work,” and I also got so frustrated during a conversation, that I had to temporarily walk away. Why? The person tried to make an argument that Ahmaud Arbery might have been justifiably killed, and that maybe his killer was acting in self-defense. I left no room for misunderstanding when I told this person that Arbery was murdered, plain and simple, and that there should be hell to pay for the gross injustice that took place there. All of this, on the same day.
I could also be awake because not long ago, I was called a murderer, vile, and uncompassionate, all for pointing out that grouping the Michael Brown case, which was an absolutely justified shooting, in with the Botham Jean case, which was criminal negligence, was counterproductive. Maybe that’s the reason I’m awake.
I suppose it could also be that I’m mourning. I am mourning the fact that I’m not allowed to join the mourning. People like myself simply aren’t permitted any room in the public space to mourn these tragedies. I felt sick watching the clip of George Floyd being murdered. I screamed for any of those bystanders to “DO SOMETHING! HE’S KILLING HIM!” Even now I feel the disgust and pure moral outrage at such an obviously negligent and wicked act. Who puts their knee on someone’s neck like that? He said that he couldn’t breathe! This is the very definition of outrageous.
I don’t get to join the mourning of Ahmaud Arbery, either. I can’t mourn the wickedness of what those wannabe “vigilantes” did to him. There’s no evidence Arbery committed a crime, and I don’t give a damn if he did. What those men did was so stupid, so utterly predictable in its outcome, that it defies all understanding. Coupled with the corruption that allowed the perpetrators of Arbery’s death to initially get away with it, and you have one of the most repulsive stories I’ve heard in some time.
I’m just not allowed to join in the mourning of Ahmaud Arbery, or George Floyd, or Tamir Rice, or any other senseless death that honesty drives me to say “I don’t know if this was about race or not.” If I say it might not be, I’m a racist. If I say that it might be, I’m a liberal moron. Since when is “We don’t know” such a controversial answer? Can we not have five fucking minutes to be sad and mourn a tragedy before parasitic demagogues hijack the conversation? Please?
I imagine all of the above contribute to why I’m awake at 2:35 AM. I can’t sleep because this shouldn’t be so unnecessarily difficult. I get it. You probably have a “side” that you’re on, and you don’t want to feel like you’re ceding any ground to the “other side.” I understand that in this utterly toxic cultural climate, humility is often shoved back in your face. As I’ve said before, we’re probably witnessing the death of common decency and any collective societal adherence to principles. “If all of your friends jumped off a cliff, should you do it too?” our moms used to ask us when provided with the flimsy “but everyone else….” excuse. Now that you’re all grown up, I ask “If everyone else completely abandons principles, shames those who disagree with them, and spew morally reprehensible garbage at their ideological opponents, should you do it too?”
The reason Freeman’s words ring so loudly in my ears is quite likely because for me, they’re true. The world is not a fine place. There’s lots of good in it, yes. There is tremendously more good than we see on the news, without a doubt. But Minneapolis is burning. George Floyd is dead, and there is little hope that an actual honest discussion about his death will take place. Our media are hellbent on getting your clicks, no matter how much they have to lie, misinform, or shred the social fabric to do so. Our politicians no longer represent something aspirational, and our colleges are no longer interested in education. Those who don’t check every ideological box for either side are often maligned simply for being honest. More likely, they’ll simply remain silent, rather than try and elevate the quality of discourse. For most, it’s just too costly to speak up.
But we have to speak up, to resist this growing divide that’s taking place. Nihilism and apathy aren’t the answer; they’re a large part of the problem. Indeed, the world often turns out to be quite far from “a fine place.” But it’s also worth fighting for. Tooth and nail, we must fight. Fight for decency, for truth. Fight for integrity, and principles, and humility. Fight for our own rights, and the rights of those we disagree with. We must fight the tribal part of our psyche, the voice that whispers “It’s ok, you’re one of the good guys. Those who disagree… they’re the bad guys.” We must even fight each other when it comes to it, and then grab a beer together afterwards. Relationships aren’t just about agreement. We have to fight to see the good in others, and the less than good in ourselves.
I’m awake because no matter how depressing things get, I know that we must fight to make it better. I also know there are thousands of others like me, who hate how divided we have become. You’re not alone. We can make a difference, together. So with that being said, I’ve only got one question for you…wanna fight?
-T