Where Is Our humility?
As I watch the crumbling of Afghanistan, as I listen to Americans in a new mood of America study I am conducting, as I listen to the hyped and dangerous political debates over critical race theory, among so many other things in our world today, I wonder: Where is our humility?
We enter distant countries with the hubris that we can fundamentally alter their cultures and customs. Sadly, I see so many consultants, nonprofits, think tanks, government agencies and others do the same here to U.S. communities. I wonder: Do we have no respect for the dignity of others? Do we believe that we can simply enter another country or community and make it over in our own image? Are we willing — and then able — to listen deeply to the shared aspirations and concerns of those we seek to support, or are we only willing and thus desire to impose our own will on others?
The debate over critical race theory saddens me; it is troubling. Let us debate the merits of the writings and arguments of those who have worked on this constellation of ideas over many decades. But let us not demonize those who seek to make our imperfect nation a more perfect union. I wonder: can we not hear the voices of those who may have different points of view from our own? Are we so frightened of being challenged that we must preemptively strike out to protect ourselves from an imagined enemy? Are we not secure enough in our own thinking to be willing to open ourselves up to explore the perspectives and struggles and full history of others?
As I conduct this new mood of America study, where I am leading group conversations in communities all across our nation, I find it striking how so many people feel they must pick sides for fear of being overrun by another side. We find ourselves wearing team jerseys of blue and red, of various interest groups, of different religious affiliations — all in the name of protecting whatever we fear we might lose, opposing whatever we hear as part of another team’s mantra, refusing to reconsider who we are when faced by probing or penetrating questions.
But as I dig deeper into these conversations, most people I interview — the vast majority — say that this is no way for our nation, our communities, ourselves to live. They so yearn for a different path forward. I wonder: how do we find that path?
The path begins with humility.
The humility to know we cannot go it alone, on our own. The humility to recognize that we must see and hear all people, not just those like us. The humility to open ourselves up to listen to other views and to acknowledge and understand the hurt and sorrow and aspirations of others. The humility to consider the meaning of patriotism — that it is not extremism like QAnon or insurrections, and nor is it the insistence to defend the nation’s history and present-day maladies at any cost. Rather, true patriotism is to express a love of nation, a devotion to nation, that is so deep that we are willing to acknowledge — no, that we insist upon acknowledging — where we’ve gone wrong and how to address our mistakes, all while still believing in America’s Promise.
After doing this work for over 30 years, I do not wonder about the innate goodness of people; nor do I wonder about whether we can go awry when we become fearful, filled with hubris, and blind to our ways. It takes humility to see a brighter, better path forward.
Let us not wallow in despair in these hard and difficult times. Let us embrace and take action based on our shared humanity and humility so that we can rediscover and co-create a more equitable, fair, just, inclusive and hopeful path for all.
