In tense times, let’s talk about the hard things. Americans have found a way before | Opinion

I have some good news for you. It may seem like American discourse is in trouble right now, but it’s been bad before.

And I’m not just talking about politics, even though that’s a lot of it. We all have different opinions: on the upcoming election, on how to fix the economy, on the Chiefs and Royals border war and where the stadium might go, on hot-button social issues.

But, according to historians, we’ve pulled ourselves up several times from past dialogue dreck. Let’s believe we can do it again.

To misquote former political operative James Carville, it’s the partisanship, stupid. Today, it’s not just that people disagree with one another — it’s that we can’t even fathom what people think anymore.

So this week, expect to have difficult conversations at work, in the grocery store check-out line or at the health club, especially following the Kansas Legislature’s vote to lure the teams, or as we get ready to watch the first presidential debate on June 27.

And on social media? Wow, just watch the negative rhetoric fly. Yes, doom-scrolling really is a word in the dictionary.

But you might be surprised to hear that I feel a sense of hope.

Historian Doris Kearns Goodwin, who visited Kansas City in June, and Beth Huber, a Kansas City-bred teacher of political rhetoric, have plenty to share.

Doris Kearns Goodwin offered history, hope

Goodwin spoke to a packed house at Unity Temple on the Plaza, sponsored by Rainy Day Books and the Truman Library Institute. She talked about decades of power in America, and noted several times the country has been in conversation chaos. It’s all happened before.

For example, she said when Abraham Lincoln was elected in 1860, defeating President James Buchanan, that wasn’t a peaceful transition of power. The South seceded.

Goodwin points out that it took nearly two centuries to happen again, though.

“The only time it didn’t happen again was in 2020. And that’s the feeling we have, that that election was lost,” Goodwin recalled. “There’s echoes of the past, always.”

I’m not asking how we got here. I know how we got here, at least in my mind, which you might disagree with. We got here from our leaders’ bad behavior, enabling intolerance, cruelty and even criminal behavior in the highest office.

Instead, I have another question. Is there anything we can do about it?

Huber, who lived in Kansas City, Kansas, and later on the Missouri side, is now an associate professor of English at Western Case University in North Carolina. Her research interests include political rhetoric, the Cold War and the 1960s and 70s.

“It’s like we’re living on different planets sometimes, right? It’s hard to have an argument when we don’t live in the same context with each other. We can’t agree on basic things.”

Like truth and facts. Can we even agree on the truth? Does 2+2=4 anymore?

Think about the “bear versus man” viral debate on TikTok, where women said they would rather be caught in the woods with a bear rather than a man. The videos and comments sparked debate about violence against women.

“Then after the man versus bear thing for a while, the men started making videos as to why the women were wrong,” Huber said.

It continued when a Black woman joined the conversation and asked would you rather be in a conference room at work with a white man or a white woman?

“And then all of these Black women came into her TikTok; the discussion of how white women are not good allies,” said Huber, who is white. “So just this one bear versus man conversation has been a microcosm of our politics in this country.”

Anonymity in social media drives incivility

Like Goodwin, Huber recalled a history in America when people found it nearly impossible to have frictionless discussions.

“It’s really not (new). We’ve done this before and we have yelled at and screamed at each other before.”

She used, as example, the Vietnam War and the conflict between President Richard Nixon and protesters, comparing it to today’s discord in political ideology.

“People (today) are saying, my, this is unprecedented. Nothing like this has ever happened before. But the same things were happening there.”

She allows that it feels different because of social media.

“I think (people) have been given permission to basically say everything that they were thinking. And it’s not just that we have permission. But we also have anonymity in a way. I could say horrible things to you through a screen, but not in a million years say to your face.”

Huber talked about the ebbs and flows of being able to talk to one another and not being able to talk to one another.

“But then a crisis happens and we come together. Then we get complacent, we get bored and we move apart again.”

What would it take to bring us together again? War? Aliens? Huber chose a controversial topic.

“Climate change will force us to get over ourselves,” she said.

“I mean, I think we will have to start looking out for each other because when the tornado tears through the town your Trump flag and your Biden flag are both gonna go fly, and both of your houses are going to be damaged.

“When times get tough we have to look out for each other, and I think we always do.”

In crisis, people help one another

Whether you believe climate change causes more tornadoes, Huber is spot on. I lived nearly 20 years in Oklahoma, tornado central, and witnessed firsthand what we called the Oklahoma Standard: people from different walks of life just helping others in the midst of calamity.

When your life is changed in a moment by disaster, people put aside their differences and pitch in to help. Would that it happens everywhere.

Goodwin’s trip to Kansas City was to promote “An Unfinished Love Story,” her new book about her late husband, presidential adviser Dick Goodwin, and their lives through the 1960s.

She remembered what Dick used to say: “It always comes from the citizens.”

“So Dick said the citizens are the ones that are going to be responsible. He was already seeing what was happening at that time in our country. But America, he finally concluded, is not as fragile as it seems. And I believe that as well.”

I’d like to believe that, too. Our beloved country might be fragile, but she is fierce and fixable. It’s up to us to hold her tight and fight together for the democracy we all ultimately share.

It’s our responsibility and our privilege.