It is a shame that the politicians of both parties have chosen to spread the biggest lie of the campaign: that we Americans all hate one another. This is not a true reflection of our country and its people but a divisive slander that we must reject. We are not a nation of hate but a nation of inherent goodness.
I can confidently testify that we do not hate each other because every day of my life, I see very clearly, from strangers everywhere, that people are good and will eagerly do good, given the chance, without complaint, compensation, or prejudice.
This unwavering belief in Americans’ inherent goodness gives me hope for our future and peace of mind in the present. So many of us are united in our goodness; this unity is our strength, leading us to a brighter future.
Americans, religious or not, have always answered Jesus Christ’s call to help those who need our help when no one will. And we are still doing it, election results or not.
We are not a nation of hate and conspiracy. We are a diverse group of individuals, each with our unique stories and experiences. Still, we all share the same fundamental desires—to feel secure, protect our loved ones, meet our financial obligations, enjoy life, and plan for the future.
We are not a nation of saints, but I know with certainty something our politicians and media don’t want to know or wish to hide—at the heart of our country is goodness and empathy; there is no doubt about it.
For corporate media moguls, there is no money in sound; it is only evil and fearful. People will watch and read bad news all day, some odd genetic twist in the human consciousness.
In 2016, when our civil life turned ugly in a new and unprecedented way, I launched a program on my blog called The Army Of Good. Our motto was (and is) that it is better to do good than to argue about what good is.
I began by seeking support for impoverished and desperate legal immigrants from Myanmar who were slaughtered and tortured by soldiers and fled mainly to the Albany area.
I asked for help for them. We went to work fundraising for them and even opened a free clothing store stuffed to the gills with donated clothing. We also send them food gift certificates for local supermarkets.
No one was asked if they were red or blue, a silly way to identify anyone.
To my surprise and everlasting gratitude, people I had never met from all over the country sent money to buy the refugees food, clothing, books, and private school supplies. I know only a handful of these people and have never seen or spoken with almost all of them.
They are all kinds of people: Northerners, Southerners, Westerners, and Northeasterners, with different ages and political beliefs. We don’t do politics; we only do good things for people with no one else to turn to.
The Army of Good was hatched and is still growing, more vital than ever.
As I write this, every one of those refugee children is in college now, building beautiful lives and planning on being doctors, engineers, nurses, and lawyers. We are still helping their brothers and sisters with food and high school tuition. We got ten of them into the best private schools in New York on full scholarship.
They love America, and the favor is being returned. We are paying for tuition, although most are now on full scholarships. They have worked hard to learn and grow here.
The Army of Good moved to support elderly and often impoverished people in an assisted care facility called the Mansion. We bought them food, clothing, medicines, computers, cellphones, art supplies, toothpaste, soap, masks, and infection sprays that got them through the roughest years of the Pandemic without a death.
A few months ago, I was asked to help our town food pantry, the Cambridge Food Pantry, struggling with record numbers of good-deprived people and declining government and state support. Our focus is now on the pantry.
We have raised thousands of pounds of food for them, supporting full Thanksgiving dinners for every family registered with the pantry. When they run out of needed food, we jump in.
The Army of Good has sent food support in varying amounts daily for the food and other products the families need but can no longer afford. We will continue this work for as long as necessary, which is quite some time.
I am writing this not to blow our horns but to say that every single day since the Army of Good came into being, hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people from all over the country have enthusiastically agreed to help these people who need help.
In these different endeavors, no one has ever asked me what my politics were, whether I was red and blue or black or white, nor have I asked anyone theirs.
I learn daily from people in every state of the Union that we care for one another and do good when we can without concern for political labels or policies. I know we do not all hate one another because I see it daily. The Army of Good has always met a request, even during the feverish distraction of Election week.
How sad our civil culture has deteriorated to the point that politicians on all sides compete to prove to people that the other side is dangerous, dishonest, and will destroy our democracy and way of life.
Their idea is not to inspire or lead voters but to scare us half to death to win votes and money. Seeing those desperate fund-mailed messages turned my stomach. It was sad to see how frightened people had become, not inspired or persuaded.
The billionaires are not helping. They are drowning our political process with gobs of money, smothering it to death.
Online, I see a lot of hatred. In the real world, I see very little. In my small town, with President-Elect Trump’s overwhelming support, I’ve seen and experienced none. When people can meet, see, and talk to one another, hatred and fear melt away. I know there is conflict everywhere, but I sense it is wildly exaggerated because I rarely see a story about something good.
I have a hunch stories about good vastly outnumber the stories bombarded to use all day.
That is not the whole truth.
Two years ago, my car slid on ice and almost into a freezing-cold ravine, tilted to one side and trapping me as it slid toward the water. It was frightening, and I was surprised to see three enormous men with red Maga caps hovering over the door and looking down at me; I could not open the door or move. There were no first responders or police around.
“Let’s get you out of there,” said one of the giants. The door creaked open, and three hands gently pulled me out. They checked to see if I needed help or medical care, wished me well, and left as a police car arrived. None of them asked me what my politics were or which label I hid behind (I am no fan of labels).
I live in an ocean of people who have different political and other values than I do. None have spoken unkindly, made me uncomfortable, or frightened me. No one has ever asked about my politics or suggested I was evil. They know, but it is not their business.
(Above is what the Army of Goods sent the day before yesterday and almost every day.)
Recently, I had to go to a gun store to replace my rusting .22 rifle. When I came in, four men, bigger than my rescuers but wearing the same red caps, watched me closely (I do not look like their average customer, I was told.)
I felt unwelcome and out of place. One of them approached me and asked how he could help.
In minutes, all four of them were showing me rifles, asking what I wanted, offering to take me to their driving ranges, grasping my need for a simple, easy machine to be used shooting rabid raccoons and skunks and putting down sheep so sick they could no longer eat or sleep.
They were friendly, open, and kind. I ended up talking to them for so long that Maria started to think I was sick or in trouble. The men and I traded text and cell information. We spoke about fathers’ stuff, the pressures on children today, and the high cost of food.
I invited them to come to the farm with their kids and see our donkeys, and they, in turn, offered me free gun and rifle lessons.
These are not racists, haters, bigots. They are just people, with the good and evil most people carry around, including me.
I have never thought myself inferior to them; I know no one I would think of as stupid or blind.
These were good men and women, generous and kind. We talked briefly and openly about politics without tension, anger, or insult. We are unlikely to be bosom buddies, but we were friends, and I hope to see them again.
We see them at the bank, post office, farmers market, and pharmacy. We stop, say hello, how are the kids, what about the weather, and get on with our lives.
We are a community. We don’t talk to each other only on social media but face to face.
One of our favorite handypersons is worlds apart from me in our cultural and political bent. When he is here, I bring him a bottle of water, and we sit on the porch and talk about life, animals, and the world. I give him books he loves to read, and he tells me stories I like to hear. He’s a friend.
We even talk politics all the time. He explains his feelings, and I explain mine. He is always there when we need him.
Day and night, I carry my camera and pull over on narrow country roads to photograph something I see. I’ve done this thousands of times, and every single time a car has pulled over, a man or woman, young or old, shouts, ” Are you okay?” I hold up the camera or give a thumbs-up, and they smile and drive away—every time.
If you think people in the country are haters, come to a house fire and watch neighbors and strangers come running to offer help. I remember breaking down on a busy road in New Jersey, where I sat for six hours while hundreds of cars sped by until a police cruiser spotted me.
Nobody stopped, nobody asked me if I was okay.
I am not writing about politics; that is beyond my current experience and comprehension.
I’m writing this because I hate to see the media, enabled and funded by billionaires and hypocritical politicians, work day and night to persuade us that we are a nation of people who hate one another.
They love it if they can keep us apart and “hating” one another. Their nightmare seems to be that we all unite. That curtain will fall off one day, and all hell will come loose. I’d like to know if I’ll be around to see it.
Those refugee children, elderly Medicaid resents, and hundreds of food-deprived people are all living testimonies that the idea of hatred was the big lie of the political campaign, one that is repeated so often and intensely that it is now the proof of millions of people.
When we are in a crash or fall downstairs, or need help after being hospitalized, we will never doubt that we are not a people of hate where I live, but at our core, a nation of people with a good heart, strong ethics, and the ability to love and do good.
That’s what the Army of Good tells me every day of my life, and today, when I will soon ask for help in getting clam chowder and refried beans to their families before the colder weather comes. And we will get it to them. Because that is what most of us are really like.
Don’t let anybody fool you with the lie. We are a people with good and generous hearts.
For example, Sarah, the Cambridge Pantry Director, asked for help getting warm foods to the pantry before the big chill soon came. She asked for Clam Chowder and Refried Beans. We will get these things here inexpensively and quickly. To prove my point, please go and see for yourself at the Cambridge Pantry Amazon Food List:
Item one: Old El Paso Traditional Canned Refried Beans, 1 Can, 16 oz (Pack of 12), $15.48.
Item two: Campbell’s Chunky Soup New England Clam Chowder, 16.3 Oz Can (Case of 8), $13.73.
Amazon will purchase and send this food to the food pantry on a weekend full of distractions. It doesn’t seem we are a nation of people who hate one another.
I so agree with you about the innate nature of human beings to be kind and help each other. Community helps us do that. We must also make this true in urban areas. I am a retired City Planner who spent much of her life trying to create places where our innate goodness can be nutured. Given our population and the need to support everyone, preserve open countryside for farming and escape, it is necessary that some, if not most of us, will live in cities. Cities allow us to deliver the things we need like water, sewer, and emergency services in ways we can afford and cause less damage to the environment. They provide support for those who are unable to be self reliant. I know that people in cities, if we can nuture our better inner nature will also stop to help a stranger in trouble. Not everyone can escape to live in the country.
Thanks, Vickie. I’m sure there are many good people in the cities, my daughter is one of them; I don’t think it’s necessary for me to say that. The point of the peace is not that the country is nicer than cities; I haven’t done a poll; it’s that the people we call stupid and ignorant are not…Cities don’t need a defense, it’s not what the piece is about. The point is that we don’t all hate each other.
Thank you… again, Jon. Beautifully written personal experience that encourages me… and so many others I know
Reminds me of what Mr Rogers said, “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.”
🥰
This is a stellar piece of writing, Jon. I even read parts of this out loud to my husband Buzz, who said *EXACTLY*!!- please tell Jon *good work*!
Susan M
Thank you!
HI Jon:
I read your blog every day and find much of what you say to be right on target. It often speaks to me.
This piece is one that has moved me to write and comment (which I have never done before…) … and let you know that I could never had said it better.
We have much more in common with the person next to us than we have differences. I believe in humans as well and hope and trust that we will all work together more and more in the future.
I am happy to donate annually with a big amount and then again periodically thru the year with other amounts to supplement the great work that you are doing. GREAT JOB !!
sometimes just being present in the moment of passing by another person is enough. a exchange of hello’s, a smile. I have a service dog named Angel. People are always respectful to not engage her, not that she would. once the vest is on she is in total support mode. I have seen so many times when people see her, I can visibly see that whatever they needed, just seeing Angel gives that to them. Sometimes we will exchange hello’s. Many times people pause and stand there for a moment gazing at her. I stand still so they can have that moment they need. I’m just the person with Angel and soak in the blessing of those moments myself. Still she is a dog and sometimes can’t resist a quick sniff of their pant leg. Always I hear from them that ‘she is smelling my dog’. we exchange a laugh of knowing. I have no idea what their politics are. We are just people. Only once it was evident but had no part in our exchange. A couple with a boy of about 4 was checking out in the lane next to us. She and her son and I were both standing at the end where the groceries are bagged. Her little boy tugged on her hand and pointed to Angle. The mother noticing Angels vest told him that she was a working dog. The son accepted what she said calmly. I called out to her and when she looked my way I smiled and I put my hand over my heart as a symbol of a heart hug and said Thank you, She responded with a smile and said her your welcome. She also gave me a heart hug. She was wearing a shirt that clearly said Trump on it. But it didn’t matter. We were just two moms sharing a moment. Jon thank you for your post. It helped me to remember that when I’m feeling moments of fear or even moments of terror of the unknown to remember these moments and others. I have what I refer to a mental toolbox filled with many healthy, helpful tools. this post will be added to it.
You write an interesting essay today Jon. Your thoughts have disturbed me for hours. I do not know how to live any longer with my kind friends and kind family members, all with red hats. I cannot comprehend how a kind person with a good heart, strong ethics and the ability to love and do good could choose such a person as their leader. I just don’t know what to do, what to think about them right now. How do they face themselves in the mirror every morning? How do I move forward with this, save these close relationships? You write that online I see a lot of hatred, in the real world I see very little. What do we call a stadium full of real, angry people screaming “Bitch!” to complete his sentence about a political foe? Having a little fun? Jesus does not stand in that tent. Two roads diverged in the woods and America chose to follow the path of darkness. The Statue of Liberty covers her face in shame. God help us all.
I feel your pain. I’m as perplexed.
Kathleen, you have put your finger on the pulse of all that I believe about the elections and its results. How can someone be kind and a good person an d vote for a person that is none of those things is and so much worse?
It’s an important question, Melora; I don’t know anyone who has the answers I am looking for mine without anger or terror.
I attended Kamala Harris final large rally here in Philadelphia the eve before the election. A huge crowd. We waited in line for hours, folks were from many neighboring states. All the performers and speakers had remarks that were met with cheers and applause. One thing I noticed at the time: the most thunderous applause were when there were pleas to stop the division and unify the country. I left feeling hopeful, yes, the country will choose unity. I am still confused, how did we choose someone who spews such hatred? Did people vote thinking their community is ok but the rest of the US is in a shambles? I don’t know. We all need a reset. Get off social media, get your news from trusted sources, and for pity sake go outside.
I grew up in the 60s, Steph, when one leader after another was murdered, and there was rioting and conflicts in the streets, and everyone told me that the country was coming apart and would never heal. We never mention that or the awful Civil War that is still, in many ways, being fought. The doomsayers were wrong, but if you don’t follow history, one might not know that this is an ingrained element of democracy in a diverse country, not a sudden crisis. It’s not easy, it’s not fun, it’s not uplifting, but it is not the end, just another beginning. Thanks for your very thoughtful and eloquent message. I felt the same way you did when the election happened, but it is not the end of my world or hope. We’ll survive and expect the next one…That’s the price we pay for being free.
These populists are familiar to America.
They tend to turn up when government fails, one kind of people or another. This one has gone deeper than ever, but they all seem to self-destruct.
This is such a good read Jon, thank you for that. It has made me feel much better, and I’ve been in despair a lot of this week. As a friend said “I thought we were a better people than this, but I must be wrong.” I am doing all I can to concentrate on all the good in my life, and there is a lot, and getting that orange monster OUT of my head.
Thanks for helping.
Jon,
With all due respect, I can’t help but wonder if the men in the red hats would have chosen to be helpful to a person of color or to a transgender person, after all they viewed you differently too. I’d like nothing more than to be wrong but marginalized people have been in the crosshairs of these people through this whole campaign. I’m struggling with how to rectify this in my heart and my mind not only with family and friends but half of the country who support this path. I’m not naive. I know there is plenty of hatred and bigotry in this world and always has been. Until we can extend care and kindness to all people, not just those who look like us, we are on a very dark road.
On a lighter note, for my own well being, I will continue to enjoy your beautiful photographs. We have to continue to strive for the light in all things.
Debbie, thanks. There is nothing disrespectful here, and as a former political and police reporter, I don’t need anyone to tell me there is violence, cruelty, and injustice in the world, red hats or not. I’m just not going to live in fear and anger; that’s not my choice. I’m no ostrich, but I’m not looking to hate people because they disagree with me, and I’m not about to give up my values either. I’m just not going to live in misery because other people are – that’s not what morality means to me – and I will always look for ways to help the people who need help. I appreciate your message.
Investigative reporter Miranda Green outlined how “pink slime” newspapers, which are AI generated from right-wing sites, turned voters to Trump in key swing state counties. Republican strategist Sarah Longwell, who studies focus groups, told NPR, “When I ask voters in focus groups if they think Donald Trump is an authoritarian, the #1 response by far is, ‘What is an authoritarian?’”
In a social media post, Marcotte wrote: “A lot of voters are profoundly ignorant. More so than in the past.” That jumped out to me because there was, indeed, an earlier period in our history when voters were “pickled in right-wing misinformation and rage.”
In the 1850s, white southern leaders made sure that voters did not have access to news that came from outside the American South, and instead steeped them in white supremacist information. They stopped the mail from carrying abolitionist pamphlets, destroyed presses of antislavery newspapers, and drove antislavery southerners out of their region.
I have come out the other side of the turmoil of feelings I had in the 1st few days. For once I was thankful for having a cold that helped me get restorative sleep for my mind, body, and spirit. Do I still have moments of fear, of course. But I have changed fear into concerns. I’m concerned about what might happen to getting access to needed medicines. medicine in many life’s are needed for quality of life including myself. I’m concerned for my son and son in-law who have been married for 16 years and the others who love differently but no less deeply and truly. I’m concerned for my neighbors and their children who are of different color or religion. But I have decided to live each day taking comfort in my daily routines. Talking with friends and loved ones though I have set in place guidelines/boundaries about what we talk about.
My sobriety date is 10/18/97. When first getting sober I made a list of all that I would lose if I drank again. Not just the obvious big things but all the little things that make up a joyful, contented life. I carried one copy in my car. I posted another on my bathroom mirror. Now all these years later I have listed all that I will lose if I give in to fears/what if’s. I will not let fear/what ifs steal from me what I have now. ‘They’ whomever ‘They’ are have no right to my daily life. It can not be stolen from me. I will deal with it if or when that time comes. Jon posts and his beautiful art work. Marie’s blog and videos add joy to my life as well. I will always be an alcoholic but I choose to stay sober each and every day. Does fear still attempt to sneak in like cold drafts through a window, of course. I choose to be aware to catch it early enough and stop it then and there from stealing my peace of mind, sanity, joy. I acknowledge it out loud by telling it f off. Then I go about what brings me joy and peace of mind. I’m posting this in hopes that it might help someone. That someone may find it leading to thoughts and ideas of how to live each day in the present.
Please consider it as a Heart Hug from me.
Thanks Alexa please accept a heart back.