Grieving America

Chauvinism leads men to fear being viewed as weak. I think a better word would be useless. That’s how this political moment has me feeling right now.

I can’t help thinking back to the Trump Administration, during which I helped build 1A on NPR. Right now it’s giving me context on why today’s uncertainty is kicking my ass. Because before, I had a powerful platform that gave me a way to be useful during a time of enormous turmoil. The experience was emotionally and spiritually destructive, but I built something that endures.

Even during my time at MSNBC & NBC News, I had a role to play: during COVID, after the murder of George Floyd, through the election and the insurrection, the attack on Ukraine and the overturning of Roe v. Wade. Through it all, I knew where I could do some good, and the results were palpable.

…and now?

Now I’m wishing I had the fortitude to talk about Project 2025, the conservative blueprint for the opening months of a second Trump term. My plan today was to break it down on my live stream, answer questions and give my take. Personally, I think the supporters of Project 2025 are a tad overconfident. Republicans these days are rather factious, unified more by their common enemies than their shared policies. Granted, conservative political activists could sweep into the Administration and get a ton of things done on their own, but the pushback might make it very hard for those changes to stick.

None of which I could bring myself to talk about on tonight’s live stream. So I postponed it, though the link will still work when I’m ready to do the show.

These days a lot of the means I had to make a difference are either dramatically eroded or face a torrent of competition. NPR, and FM radio in general, are continuing to lose listeners to podcasting, streaming and, frankly, to better programming. Cable news is, shall we say, messy these days. Broadcasting is my forte, but today’s content creators go in for tightly packed, highly focused slivers of the population. Finding the “democracy and connection” sliver, which is my focus, has been challenging at best.

Besides, it’s not like you just turn the dial anymore and stop on something that interests you. Algorithms and search engines heavily mediate what you get to choose from. It’s like everyone’s looking at their own channel lineup, tailored to keep unwanted new voices out. Being heard above the fray is an enormous challenge.

You probably never worked in media, but I’ll bet you might be struggling with usefulness in your own way. Maybe it’s that community group you used to be active with but now don’t feel like your efforts have as much of an impact. Maybe it’s that friend you used to feel safe discussing anything with but, after the last few elections, don’t broach taboo topics with anymore. Maybe it’s a religious group you’re a little less nourished by because their politics show more than we used to consider polite. Maybe your family is still a source of love but doesn’t quite feel as tight-knit as it did before things got so divisive.

Maybe America doesn’t quite feel like home anymore, if it ever did.

And now, with a presidential election defined by two candidates no one’s really excited about, everything feels a bit insane. A.I. is being built by Silicon Valley titans who apparently don’t care who they crush in the process. Those tools are already pouring more disinformation and bunk into our intellectual mainstream. Social media, built by people with poor social skills, makes it significantly harder to connect across our differences — which, of course, is what makes democracy work. Millions of people (and probably even more bots) are jockeying to be heard online, and almost no one is making traction in helping us listen to each other.

So… yeah. I didn’t feel like jockeying today.

I suspect many of us are dealing with a torrent of unpleasant emotions these days, so tangled together that they’re hard to describe. Perhaps you’ve frustrated some of your loved ones who are just trying to help but it seems like you’re always talking (yelling?) past each other. May I suggest another word that might articulate what you’re dealing with?

Grief. Perhaps you’re grieving.

If your social, familial, political, religious, romantic or cultural connections feel frayed, then you might be grieving a variety of losses. Connection. Trust. Security. Intimacy. Purpose. Solidarity. Community. Friendship. Decency. Opportunity. Clarity. Maybe even Hope. All those things help enrich today and illuminate tomorrow. Losing touch with any one of them could be traumatic, and without anyone or any way to deal with it I can understand why you’d feel torn up.

Today, like many days lately, the grief settles in over me like a mattress on my head. It encumbers me so much I can’t maneuver without feeling like I’ll fall over. So this time, I decided to lay down on that mattress, not labor under it. I decided that grief wins today, I’ll try to get up tomorrow, and I’m not gonna pretend to be heroically upbeat on the live stream when I’m not. Lying to you felt like the wrong answer, but writing this feels honest. It’s not inspiring — which means, to the algorithm, it’s not profitable and far fewer people will see it — but it’s honest. It’s real. And don’t we deserve a little more honesty? Even if it’s being honest about our broken heart?

I don’t know what the future will bring, nor do I feel confident that anything in the future will be stable enough to anchor myself to. The politics of 2024 feel largely propelled by despair on one side, and righteous vengeance on the other. Neither appeals to me, and so I feel more adrift than ever before. But I guess it’s enough to drift for now… better than sinking, that’s for sure.

This is the miserable side effect of making national politics a year-round, high-stakes, winner-take-all sport in America. Even worse in this shifting culture that makes civic institutions feel useless. Peace feels hard to come by, but I do sleep very peacefully after I’ve shed enough tears. No matter what happens in the election, a tidal wave of tears are on the way for many of us. I say, let them come. Grief helps us learn to live with whatever comes.

And oh, how we long to live.