When Politics Becomes a Team Sport

We have a problem — and it’s us. We treat politics and government as binary, as if they were an either-or situation. You’re either this or that, with no room for nuance, complexity, or actual thought. That’s how we end up voting along party lines, like a team sport instead of choosing what aligns with our values or what might actually serve the whole. And this is why/how the Democrats continue to drift further right every cycle, and the Republicans continue to become more extreme every election cycle, and we become more polarized, tired, and confused. It’s intellectual laziness dressed up as political identity, and the politicians just become more feckless.

Here are examples of what I hear.


Millions of gun owners exist across multiple disciplines in the spectrum. And whether or not you’re a gun owner, when you question certain gun-control proposals, suddenly you’re accused of wanting children to die in schools, or you don’t care about the Second Amendment. Nuance? GONE.


It couldn’t possibly be that maybe you are a Republican, or you’re a Democrat, progressive, or independent who simply believes safety and humanity can coexist. In the either/or narrow world, you either want open borders or you’re a Marxist. There’s no room for the idea that security and compassion are not mutually exclusive. (Commentary on ICE is a whole issue of horrors on its own, as well as all “illegals” being criminals.)


Because apparently no Republican with a functioning brain could ever make another choice. Again, nuance? Nope.


Or if you didn’t vote for Hillary Clinton, you must hate women in general and simply don’t want a woman as President. The possibility that their policies weren’t compelling enough — and that the DNC continues to fumble — is never considered.



It couldn’t be that you want corruption out of politics, or that you want a city that works for everyone. No — you must be a radical jihadist.


It’s reasonable that a system with a foundation rooted in slave patrols has evolved into state‑sanctioned violence rather than community safety. Let’s talk about how we pour more funding into policing year after year, yet crime rates don’t drop enough, neighborhoods aren’t improving, and the abuses and atrocities continue. But imagining something better is apparently out of the question.


Genocide, anywhere and against anyone, is morally a full stop for many. It’s not about hate for an entire group, but being opposed to systems of oppression, suppression, and, frankly, crimes against humanity. If there is no line drawn there, my God, where is it then?


This is the nonsense that got us into our current mess, and why we are in this disgusting political situation. Some of us have been warning (screaming!) about what was coming for years, while others sat back, ignored the signs, and — even without realizing it — voted for the very outcomes they feared. Someone once said to me, “You better vote for ______________.” I remember thinking, Or what? What are you going to do? Revoke my citizenship? Snub my Constitutional right to vote? Stop talking to me? Get out of here. People who claim to know me (should) understand that ultimatums without evidence are pointless, and bullying is the fastest way to make me stop taking anything you say after that seriously.


We’ll fight tooth and nail against the atrocities of “the other side,” yet somehow develop complete cognitive dissonance when it comes to our own favorites and eat our own for daring to call out their wrongdoings.


They don’t track how their “favorites” actually vote in Congress. They won’t take the time to look up where their donations are from. They’ll cheer a lengthy, fiery, made‑for‑camera speech on the House floor, then ignore the fact that the same representative turns around and votes against their interests. We don’t build the habit of holding elected officials accountable, and we certainly don’t develop the muscle memory to remember their records. Sometimes I wonder if this same pattern shows up in people’s personal lives too — trusting leaders who rely on apathy, convenience, or complacency to get away with things they shouldn’t.


It literally doesn’t get any easier than that. Someone once told me it was “too much reading.”


A woman once told me this while we were waiting together, and there are other similar instances where this sentiment prevails. This level of engagement is concerning. I’ll admit I get a kick out of his snarky posts on X, but that’s not what earns my vote.


“If you say this, then you must be that” is a tired conversation, not a flex. We’re in a political culture that’s forgotten how to think, afraid to question, and unable or maybe unwilling to imagine beyond the either/or commentary. We’ve become lazy voters — quick to embrace our favorites, but willing to ignore their failures, their records, or face challenging, inconvenient facts when they surface.


Now we're here — stuck with a festering boil of a narcissist in the White House, taking a chainsaw to our democratic experiment, shredding the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, and every amendment he can get his hands on, while we stand around daring to wonder how it all went so wrong.
Recent conversation with someone who seems to believe that
belonging to a political party makes you a monolith.

The Sacredness in Ash

I was out trying to fix a sprinkler earlier today. (Yes, Mama, I had on my N95 mask.) I was working as fast as I could so I could get back in the house. I noticed that I had ash on my arms and could feel it getting in my eyes. My glasses lenses were scattered with it. I noticed it on everything. I noticed that I couldn’t see behind our property very far today from all the smoke. When I got in the house, I decided to take a shower to get the smoke and ash off of me, and I noticed that the top of my head had quite a bit of ash on it. Seeing that ash on my head, even more than when I was out in the yard, shoved me right into a reality I hadn’t examined thoroughly before.

All I could think about was that people’s lives were raining down and floating all around me… pasts, futures, hopes, dreams, plans, tiny pieces of homes and precious belongings, maybe even pets and other wildlife. And I couldn’t help but think, “Please, no people.” Whatever it used to be, it’s all things that can’t be put back together again. They can be replaced, some of it, but if you’ve ever lost or broke something special, often times it’s just not the same. I hear it said often in times like this, “At least they didn’t lose their lives.” In an obvious sense that is 100% true, but it’s also not true at all – when we work so hard for the things we have, the places we live, the things we cultivate and that are precious to us.

Certainly I think it’s a safe bet that the vast majority of us would not trade our lives for any of those other things, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt or isn’t significant. It may even be life-changing and cause a domino effect of other hardships.

So I said a quick prayer over the ashes on my head, a prayer for what was contained in them – the things that though they showed up as ash are actually the intangibles that keep us all going. I didn’t think to mention any of this until I saw someone posting a little bit ago about how annoyed they were with all the ash on everything. I get it. It’s messy and it’s certainly not good for us to breathe in. Yet, I think it’s sacred. Granted, we’ll have to wash it off of things, and some of it will catch in the wind and be shuffled off to another destination over and over again, but I sure will see it differently forevermore when I watch it floating down, resting on things, or being rinsed away.

Front, side of my house looking into the back.