I was born into a black and white reality. Democrats were stupid for thinking what they thought. Republicans were logical for thinking what they thought. Al Gore was an idiot. George W. Bush was a hero. The Beatles were great until they started making depressing drug music.

It was very easy to see things that way in New Haven, Missouri (population 2,073). In fact, there was no possible way to see things differently. The reality of my childhood and youth was a community where almost everybody was white, conservative, and had no higher education than a high school diploma. I do not list these realities as negative or positive. They simply were. Kids at my school made “gay jokes,” “black jokes,” and “jew jokes” and I laughed because we did not know anyone that those jokes could offend (or if we did, they seemed to laugh along as well). To joke about a homosexual individual was akin to joking about a person with forks for hands and a spaghetti beard since, to the best of our knowledge, we had encountered neither.

To joke about a homosexual individual was akin to joking about a person with forks for hands and a spaghetti beard since, to the best of our knowledge, we had encountered neither.

New Haven was also a town steeped in tradition, populated by a community of hard-working people whose respect for labor was matched by their friendly disposition and love of the high school basketball team, the Shamrocks. After moving there in the third-grade, it did not take long for my family to go full superfan status for the Shamrocks who would win the Missouri 1A State Championship not long after our arrival.

Around three years after our move to New Haven, the attacks on September 11th, 2001 occurred. Scattered along the wooden floor level bleachers in the small Franklin County R-II gym, the sixth, seventh, and eighth graders were told what happened, while the remainder of the K-5 students were left oblivious to avoid scaring them. That same day, we were already planning fundraisers to get money to the victims and heroes of 9/11. Mrs. McLone had all of us make suggestions of ways that we could help, and we settled on sliding tiny beads onto little safety pins to make American flag pins. I don’t remember how much we sold them for or how many we sold, but do remember feeling an immense pride in my country for those next few weeks.

When Summer finally laid rest to my 6th grade year, I remember that in the weeks leading up to July 4th, all the radio seemed to play was Greenwood’s “I’m Proud to Be an American” and Toby Keith’s “Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue.” I remember very specifically driving with my mom on Highway 50 and seeing flags line the road for almost a mile while the radio played a patriotic tune. I cried. Sometimes I got teary in high school too when they would play the National Anthem at basketball games. Symbols have always struck me deep, and when I would see that flag on the wall in the gym, and I would hear those American harmonies, visions of all my blessings and all the forebears whose blood, sweat, tears, and lives gave birth to the reality of my freedom crashed liked high tide on the shores of my mind.

Of course, we learned about the bad stuff in our nation’s history in high school: slavery, the Trail of Tears, Jim Crow, segregation, the KKK, and all that stuff. It all seemed so sad but so far away and so long ago. So many presidents ago, and even more years. I remember always thinking, wow, we’ve come a long way because I would never do any of that or even think about it.

The election year where George W. Bush faced off against Al Gore is the first that I remember paying attention to. And when I say “paying attention to,” I mean listening to my dad explain why Al Gore was a complete idiot and George W. Bush needed to be our president. I remember car rides in my dad’s truck listening to KMOX. He would twist the volume knob down from time to time and explain to me how republicans wanted a country where people got as much as they worked for and democrats wanted a country where taxes were high and everybody got the same amount no matter how hard they did or did not work. This belief was shared by seemingly every father I knew, and so it seemed less a belief and more a statement of fact.

This belief was shared by seemingly every father I knew, and so it seemed less a belief and more a statement of fact.

After high school, I went to Brigham Young University for a year and then left on a two-year service mission to Campinas, Brazil. Those two years were sacred to me and immensely formative. When I returned home, I resumed my studies and pursued a degree in English Teaching with plans to teach high school English. Near the end of my degree, I met my wife Anna.

One of the main things about her that kept my interest was her passion and strength of opinion. Early on in our relationship, she disagreed with me multiple times on issues relating to the LGBTQ+ community, abortion, taxes, and almost every other political issue. It became apparent very quickly that she was a “D-word”: a democrat. It did not phase me. In fact, our discussions about these issues were some of the most enjoyable discussions/debates that I ever had. She pushed me to provide real reasoning for believing what I believed and likewise I pushed her.

Needless to say, due largely in part to Anna’s persuasive nature, I no longer identify as a republican. That said, I do not identify as a democrat either (although I did register as a democrat a while back just to vote for Andrew Yang in the primaries–unfortunately he dropped out before I had the chance). Anna’s perspective on the world allowed me to see the value of many democratic ideals and policies, and yet I still retain a strong value of many conservative policies. In fact, I don’t see why these opposites have to be at odds. The sun is not at war with the moon. The earth is not constantly attempting to remove the sky. Opposites, when balanced, serve a purpose.

Opposites, when balanced, serve a purpose.

We used to be Americans. When we hurled the tea into the harbor. When we wrote the Declaration. When we marched on Yorktown. When we wrote the Constitution. At least, I thought we used to be Americans. The more I learn about history, the more I see that people were disagreeing and fighting over how to handle all of these moments that I saw as non-partisan purely American points in history. The truth is that there is no pure American. It is American to vote for Donald Trump if you believe that his policies and leadership are what is best for our nation. It is American to vote for Joe Biden if you believe that his policies and leadership are what is best for our nation. It is American for citizens in Portland to march against oppression and racism. It is American for someone to not want their child to wear a mask. It is American for someone to fight for mask mandates. It is American to be proud of America, and it is American to be ashamed of America. At the root of all these things is a love of country and the citizens that live within it.

It is American to be proud of America, and it is American to be ashamed of America.

If Revolution Era America were made up of people who all agreed politically and strategically at every moment, I do not believe we would have won that war. Our country benefits from the diverse spectrum of opinions and the freedom to express them, so do not spend your time trying to make the other side look stupid. This accomplishes nothing besides making you look “clever” or “good” to all the people who already agree with you. Spend your time forming arguments that permit your political beliefs to stand on their own. Building a magnificent edifice does not require you to tear down the other buildings on the block, and making a strong argument for a liberal or conservative policy does not require an attack on those who see things differently than you.

Building a magnificent edifice does not require you to tear down the other buildings on the block, and making a strong argument for a liberal or conservative policy does not require an attack on those who see things differently than you.

As long as our political arguments exist only as responses to the other side, our nation will function as a teeter-totter, never permitting us to rise to the heights that we as a nation are more than poised to achieve.