They were citizens seeking responses from their elected officials, a time-honored American tradition…  And across the street was a small group of three men who were expressing support for the current administration. I decided to walk across the street.

Dear Neighbor, 

This past week I rode through a small mountain town in Western North Carolina, where hundreds of people were demonstrating their concern for the present government policies. They were upset, carrying posters, chanting slogans and exercising their First Amendment rights. My spouse and I joined them. We carried signs, chanted and expressed our concern for our Constitutional republic. We both felt a cloud was hanging over our heads. Everyone was expressing different aspects of our current political reality. Some expressed sympathy for those losing their medicaid. Many were upset that the truth about the Epstein pedofile case was being suppressed by our justice department. Many were disappointed that our Vets were not being cared for after serving our country. Overall, there was a feeling that we are entering into an era of an authoritarian government because of the militarization of Washington, D.C. by executive order.

All types of individuals walked, chanted, and shared their pain. There was a feeling of camaraderie and community in this group of friends and strangers. They were citizens seeking responses from their elected officials, a time-honored American tradition. Some were thrilled that they could exercise their First Amendment rights; others were quite angry at the present changes in our government. 

And across the street was a small group of three men who were expressing support for the current administration. I decided to walk across the street.

Many people on my side of the street tried to stop me, many of them expressing concern for my safety. But I felt compelled to engage with these men. I felt the need to explain to them that we all had something in common at that moment. 

I offered my hand to the first gentleman and he refused to shake my hand. The next gentleman did shake my hand. I told him that they have a right to be there. He thanked me. I told him that we were also exercising our first amendment rights. He responded by saying that we were too loud and noisy. I suggested to him that we were upset and disappointed and maybe he would be noisy as well, if his side had lost. He told me that he was a veteran and he was being treated well, so he didn’t understand why we were upset about veterans being mistreated. I told him that I was glad that he was treated well, but in my city, the VA hospital was in trouble because of all the layoffs. He said that he did not know that was happening.

I returned across the street, with my “Save our Constitution” sign raised high. A dozen people wanted to know if I was threatened, or abused, or scared. One even feared I might be killed. 

I told them that none of that happened. What I had experienced was dialogue; disagreement, but dialogue. We communicated. We had an experience of community, somewhat painful, but humane. We explored some topics, shared our differences. 

I left wanting more dialogue. I crossed the street desiring to move the cloud from over my community, a cloud that kept us from seriously considering approaching our neighbor. I wanted a humane community that day, with serious conversation, exploring how we all can survive what we feel hopeless about. I still want that today. 

“Dear Neighbor” authors are united in a belief that civility and passion can coexist. We believe curiosity and conversation make us a better community.