Since when did it become impossible to discuss politics and religion? Why is it so difficult?
one nation, under God, indivisible
Last week I told you about Finding (Un)Common Ground, the new site I’ve launched with writer Lisen Stromberg. We’re publishing side-by-side opinion posts about controversial, potentially divisive topics. We’re not experts; we’re simply moms who would really like to be able to discuss issues with civility. We believe others would like to be able to do the same.
Lisen’s the West Coast liberal and I’m the Southern/Heartland conservative. As expected, we did not agree in our first round of posts last week concerning the terrorist attacks against our embassies in Libya, Egypt, and Yemen.
This week, however, in our second round of posts, something strange happened.
We agreed. Well, sort of.
We weren’t in perfect sync with each other on the responses from Google and the Obama administration regarding the film Innocence of Muslims. That showed up in the comments. But we did agree on one thing: the freedom of speech is a right that must be upheld.
Wow.
with liberty and justice for all
I’d say a liberal and a conservative agreeing on the importance of the First Amendment is reason for hope in this brutal election season. It may be rare that Lisen and I agree on anything, but what a great place to begin.
I promise not to blog here every time we post something there. I’ll try to let you know when new posts are up so you can click over to read them if you want.
This post was syndicated by BlogHer on 9.20.12 and featured in the BlogHer Conferences Newsletter on 10.3.12.
I wanted to eat my breakfast.
welcome to BlogHer ’12
“Okay, everyone,” said Lisa Stone from the stage. “It’s time for Speed Dating.”
Imagine a hotel convention room filled with thousands of women. Not just ordinary women. Blogger women.
That morning, I was late to the BlogHer conference welcome breakfast hosted by co-founders Elisa Camahort Page and Lisa Stone. I was hungry. I wanted to eat.
“Form two big circles around the outside of the room.”
“I hate ice breakers,” I said to myself as I inhaled scrambled eggs. “I hate speed dating.”
“There’s room over on this side. Let’s go, ladies!”
Then it occurred to me. “You bought the ticket. Now get up and speed date!”
I joined the outside circle that faced the inside circle. For the next 20 minutes, the circles moved around each other. And I met fabulous bloggers.
Our hostesses issued the one-minute warning, and my mind returned to the bacon abandoned on my plate. “Hang on, breakfast. I’m coming!”
I had time to meet one, last blogger.
A gorgeous, vibrant blonde from California introduced herself to me. “Hi, I’m Lisen Stromberg,” she said. “You look so familiar. Where have I seen you?”
“Hi, I’m Aimee Whetstine,” I said and shook hands with her. “I was syndicated on BlogHer this week. You may have seen my face there.”
Have you ever witnessed a cat and a dog face off for the first time?
We tried to make small talk about our blogs, but we kept coming back to the issue at hand. I couldn’t understand why civil unions weren’t enough. Lisen couldn’t understand why my church didn’t approve of gay marriage. Back and forth it went. Each of us holding our positions with dignity and without screaming.
There was another blogger waiting to speak to Lisen. As I said goodbye and turned to go, I looked down at Lisen’s business card in my hand.
The moment of truth fell like the sunlight through clouds.
“You know,” I said as I turned back to face her. “We should do something together. We should write about this.”
Lisen’s eyes met mine. Was she thinking the same thing?
“Yes, we should,” she said.
“It would be good for my readers,” I said, “and for yours too, I think.”
“Yes, it would.” she said.
Today Lisen and I set out to create a forum of civil dialogue about the issues that matter. We’re launching a neutral, shared website called Finding (Un)Common Ground.
We’ll regularly post our views on hot topics and invite you to dialogue and share your thoughts. All comments and perspectives are welcomed, provided they are expressed within the bounds of civility.
Today we’re posting about the events this week in Libya and Egypt. I hope you’ll visit, share, and comment.
Civil discourse must be achieved if we are to find understanding and solutions within the issues that divide us and our country.
“Come now, let us reasontogether,” says the Lord:
“Though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow;
though they are red like crimson,
they shall become like wool.” Isaiah 1:18 ESV
New York subways don’t faze me after living in Chicago. Alone I took the train to catch up with my friends.
to world trade center all times
They’d gone ahead to shop in SoHo. First time I’d been in New York since 1993. Or was it 1994? Didn’t matter. I was on the train now, rolling toward our rendezvous point. The destination we promised not to miss while in the city.
The digital map counted down the stops. Spring Street. Canal Street.
last stop
“Is this the new station?” a fellow tourist said as we arrived. “This must be the new station.”
“No,” said a New Yorker in earshot of the traveler. “This is the same station. The one under the buildings.”
So clean and empty now. Images of firemen covered in dust and wading through rubble flashed in my memory.
world trade center subway station
“We’re in line,” a text beeped through from my friends. “Meet us at the entrance. We have your ticket.”
The street narrowed as I made my way.
walking to entrance
My friends and I passed through security, stood in line with crowds of people, and finally stepped inside the fences.
We were drawn to the sides of a massive square basin.
water fall
People of every size, shape, and color leaned close to the stone edges engraved with the names of the deceased. We peered over to see down into the water.
Thousands of gallons rushed along a run under the stone edges with the names. We could touch that stream. Visitors brought their wet fingers up to the names they knew. Like a drink in the sweltering sun.
roses
The water from the run rested on a ledge then fell, plummeting straight down to another greater plateau. From there it was pulled across until it dropped out of sight into a deep shaft at the center of the fountain.
9/11 world trade center memorial fountain
I turned to leave. “There are two of them?”
We walked across the concrete plaza to another fountain identical to the first, except engraved with different names. Nearly an acre each in size, these fountains are the largest manmade waterfalls in North America. They trace the footprints of the two World Trade Center towers.
I tried to imagine people running across the courtyard. Tried to see bits of shredded office paper midair.
A museum will open at the site to join the fountains. Reconstruction of new buildings has begun. We’re years away from that day, but we remember.
9/11 memorial
On location in New York, second by second, the water reenacts the motion of the debris, buildings, and people.
It rushes and swirls and falls and is gone.
For He knows how weak we are;
He remembers we are only dust.
Our days on earth are like grass;
like wildflowers, we bloom and die.
The wind blows, and we are gone—
as though we had never been here. Psalm 103:14-16 NLT
The Democratic National Convention is in full swing, so we turn to the words of a famous Democrat, set in stone at his D.C. memorial.
It’s easy to forget our elected officials work for us. We hold them in high esteem, and rightly so. But this is a republic, not a monarchy or a dictatorship. We fought a war to establish that and several more wars to keep it that way.
Ours is a government for the people, by the people. And the President—Republican, Democrat, or other—lives in our house.
as seen at FDR Memorial in Washington, D.C.
Why did Franklin Roosevelt say this? How do we preserve or ignore this idea today?
It appears I’m not the only one thinking about Roosevelt this week. Catch one of my favorite columnists Ross Douthat’s NYT post Franklin Delano Romney.
A version of this post was syndicated by BlogHer on October 9, 2012.
Engaging your children in the electoral process can be filled with teachable moments.
yankee doodle
This week I let my son stay up and watch some of the Republican National Convention speeches with me. To balance things out, we’ll watch some of the Democratic National Convention speeches next week.
We tried watching on the networks and PBS, but my son quickly tired of the commentators.
“Who is that and why do they keep talking?” he said. Good question.
Are we not able to discern the themes and validity of the speeches for ourselves?
We clicked over to C-SPAN where the coverage ran uninterrupted except for a ticker line of tweets across the bottom of the screen. A much better fit for us. We got to see all of the speeches and videos of the convention, not just the parts the media decided we should see. And without the commentary.
Media literacy is practiced in our house.
We don’t sit there and take whatever the media gives us; we talk back to the TV, radio, and internet. We control the feed. We turn it off if these “guests” overstep their bounds.
Admittedly, my house leans conservative though I remain independent of party affiliation. I lost count of how many times during the course of the speeches by Chris Christie, Condoleezza Rice, Clint Eastwood, and Mitt Romney my child heard me speak to the screen.
“Amen.”
“Bless your heart.”
“God bless you.”
“That’s right.”
Next week, he’ll hear me speak, too.
I anticipate a lot of questioning and disagreeing. But I’ll take care to be measured in my responses. To explain to my son as best I can why some citizens see things differently than his parents do and to reiterate our beliefs. To stress to him how imperative it is we respect all our countrymen and the office of the President, even if we disagree.
Children think in all-or-nothing terms sometimes.
I corrected my son quickly when last night he said, “I hate Obama.”
“No,” I said. “We don’t hate Obama; we just disagree with him. And we respect him as a person and as the President.”
“But I hope Mitt Romney wins, Mom,” he said.
At the end of this process, someone will win, and someone will lose. And there will be more lessons to be taught. How to win and lose gracefully. How to stick with your values and beliefs regardless of the outcome.
The presidential election offers a chance for us to explain to our children what we believe and why. We get to show them the ropes of how we choose our elected officials. We have the chance to demonstrate to them wisdom and discernment. We’re responsible for developing their citizenship.
It’s up to us to plant the seeds of engagement that will influence the future of our country and culture long after we’re gone.
And so, my children, listen to me,
for all who follow my ways are joyful.
Listen to my instruction and be wise.
Don’t ignore it. Proverbs 32-33 NLT
My friend Jeff White asked me if I’d guest post about baseball to help celebrate the first birthday of his St. Louis Cardinals blog Born Bleeding.
Wasn’t sure how that would go.
I enjoy baseball, however I’m not a diehard fan like Jeff. He writes his passion for baseball, and I’m proud of him for it. Plus his wife is the dearest person on earth and one of my favorite friends. I was honored to accept the challenge.
Well, I wrote the post and I loved it! It may be one of my favorites.
Please visit Jeff to wish him a happy blog birthday, share your baseball memories, and read my post:
With the Republican National Convention underway, a quote from a famous Republican is apropos for Wednesday Words to Remember.
I wonder if Abraham Lincoln was speaking of the freedoms and privileges we enjoy in America that many in the world still do not.
Liberty to vote for our leaders. To transfer power without war. To worship as we choose. To bear arms. To own property, pursue education, and start businesses.
When Lincoln was alive, liberty had not been fully realized by all Americans. Was he thinking of the great trial of his presidency, the Civil War?
I roomed with Katie, Leah Beyer, and Nancy Grossi at the BlogHer conference earlier this month. Katie, a discus thrower in college, vowed to be my tall, blonde bodyguard should the need arise in New York. Thankfully, I didn’t have to take her up on that offer, and we went shopping instead.
Katie has blogged at Pinke Post for five years. She is the mother to three beautiful children and the wife to her prince charming. In her professional life, she works in agriculture for state government.
Today she breaks her silence about her time as a food stamps mom.
Katie Pinke in Tahari
It’s an inspiring story from a beautiful woman with great determination, incredible work ethic, and the blessings of family and faith—the stuff of real hope and change.
This blog is like my house, and it’s time to set the House Rules.
here comes the fun
You’re invited to visit. I hope you come by often and bring friends with you. We throw a mini party here with every post. All guests are welcomed to comment, regardless of their viewpoints.
While this protected my site from trolls, in a way it also punished legitimate readers who faithfully and respectfully express their views here. Those readers will be happy to know I’ve lifted the stricter comment approvals.
But I still want this to be a safe place to agree to disagree.
Following BlogHer’s example and friends’ suggestions, I’ve written community guidelines for this site. They’re available in the top menu under House Rules.
Ten things you should know:
1. There will be a diverse group of guests in my house.
All sorts of people read this blog. I want everyone to feel free to respectfully comment if they choose to dialogue.
2. There will be discussion about many different topics, including some you may consider controversial.
This is my place to write what matters to me without editor or client changes. God and country are important to me; those topics will appear in the mix of posts.
3. Sometimes there will be disagreement.
It’s unrealistic to believe we’ll all agree about everything. This isn’t Parrot Island. We have to engage in civil discourse concerning matters of disagreement if we ever hope to reach solutions for the challenges we face. Go ahead and state your case, just mind your manners as well.
4. There will be civility and grace.
If you can’t play nice and respect the intrinsic value of the humans involved, you need to go elsewhere.
do not block
5. There will be no profanity.
This is a blog, not a bar. Think of another word to use or expect your comment to be deleted.
6. There will be no bullying.
That means no personal attacks, mudslinging, name-calling, direct threats, implied threats, stalking, harassing, posting of personal information that doesn’t belong to you or has nothing to do with the topic being discussed, libel, defamation, blatant misrepresentation of another person or group, violations of privacy, or links to profane or pornographic material.
7. There will be no spam whatsoever.
8. I determine what is unacceptable here, and I’m not limited by the House Rules.
As the sole owner, content creator, and community manager of this blog, I reserve the right to change the House Rules and to remove unacceptable comments at any time and without notice.
9. A word to trolls.
If you are a troll, you may comment if you abide by the House Rules. Otherwise, your comment will be deleted. And if you send me hateful tweets, I will block you so I do not receive your messages.
olive & kickin, as seen in Asheville, NC
10. Don’t like the rules?
Find another site with different rules.
Some of you may think this is harsh, self-aggrandizing overkill. Does a small, personal blog really need community guidelines?
I wish you were right. But last week’s experience prompted Momma Bear to law down the law.
This is my house. I will not allow it to be destroyed by abusive comments or overrun by trolls. Play by the rules or exit the party.
But let all who take refuge in You be glad;
let them ever sing for joy.
Spread Your protection over them,
that those who love Your name may rejoice in You. Psalm 5:11 NIV
The only Overkill here is by Men at Work from 1983, a very good year.
Have you ever been afraid to express your opinion? What impact did that experience have on you?
Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong. You say tom-ay-to, I say tom-ah-to…
