Year: 2015

For many, election season is a time to hide and plug your ears, but for me, it is a time to tune in and pay close attention. Throughout my life, it has been stressed that voting is a privilege and it would be outrageous not to take advantage of this opportunity. Because of this, I was excited to tune-in to the GOP Presidential debate three weeks ago. I was ready to watch the candidates answer hard-hitting questions about foreign policy, healthcare, and the economy, but soon found myself feeling frustrated because the moderators’ questions focused largely on the things that had come out of Donald Trump’s mouth instead of the actual issues..   

Although it seems like headlines always aim to catch our attention, I can’t help but sense that something is different this time around.  I remember flipping through the newspaper last summer and noticing a poll that compared  the candidates running for the Republican nomination. When I saw that Trump was leading dramatically, my first inclination was that it had to be a joke. It is now months later, and Trump has not gone away. In fact, in many ways, he has taken over the presidential race. He’s everywhere: spread throughout the front pages of newspapers, sound bites, and social media.

How can this be? If you asked me a year ago, I never would have guessed that Trump was capable of transitioning from a business tycoon who fired people on reality television to a presidential front runner that takes center stage at debates. As I think about this significant change, I see a few critical factors that lie beneath Trump’s surge. Trump stands out because he states his opinions bluntly, rather than coating them with political rhetoric.  This means that he will utilize any means necessary to voice his positions—even if that means calling his opposition “morons and losers” or labeling President Obama “the worst.”

I think this straightforward approach resonates with so many because people today view this bluntness as honesty. For some, there are indeed things about the United States’ current political reality that are disheartening. Trump’s voice has quickly become, in the eyes of many, a representation of the anger building in our political sphere. He not only validates individuals’ frustration but also offers his supporters a method of channeling those feelings by creating an “us versus them” dichotomy.  

However, the  problem does not lie in people expressing themselves. Individuals should have the right and ability to voice their concerns and ideas—whether by lobbying congress, engaging in relevant discussions, or supporting a particular presidential candidate. However, actions like those of Trump become problematic when they place greater emphasis on exhibiting rage and vilifying others than pursuing justice and developing practical solutions. They raise concern when they steer election coverage and public attention away from critical issues and their implications on our nation and toward matters of “he said/she said.” Although Trump is the current focus of headlines, Republicans are not alone.  There is a vast number of people, with various viewpoints, who base their votes solely on frustration and party affiliation, instead of the impact that candidates will have on our country.

Maybe you are tired of hearing about Trump. It might be that you couldn’t agree more with what he says. You may have already made up your mind, or perhaps you’re still deciding. The fact of the matter is: none of us are likely to ever speak personally with Trump. This means, that despite our lofty goals or heartfelt desires, it is implausible that you, or I, will change his demeanor or approach. So what, then, can you do? Watch the next debate, research political candidates and study important issues in order to be a well informed voter.
People have a tendency to prioritize feeling over fact. Yet, we must recognize the power, privilege, and responsibility that come with our votes.  My hope is that you would use your vote well—in a way that is rooted not in fickle emotions, but in a desire to see meaningful and effective impact.

The idea of cosmopolitanism is an old one.  The Greek philosopher Diogenes of Sinope, a man whom Plato described as “Socrates gone mad”, was the first to claim the term.  Diogenes is famous, not only as one of the founders of cynicism, but also for living in a ceramic tub in the marketplace and urinating on his enemies.  Early on in his life he was exiled from Sinope because his philosophical convictions led to defacing the state’s currency.  After being expelled from the Sinope, Diogenes was asked where he came from.  “I am a citizen of the world (kosmopolitês)” he replied.  

Cosmopolitanism is the ideology that all humans belong to a single community; that they are “citizens of the world”.  The human community transcends nation and state.  It transcends cultural and ethnic identity and requires that a loyalty to the broader human cause trumps all other loyalties.

In today’s increasingly globalized world, this idea is perhaps more relevant than ever.  The economic and social systems that have evolved as a result of recent technological advancements have tied our world together in extreme interdependence.  The effects of our decisions in the US are not contained by our nation’s borders; they exceed boundaries and affect humans across the globe.  These effects are obvious in international policy decisions, but even small decisions about the way we shop and how we recycle have substantial effects on the larger human community.  

Many of the biggest problems that we are currently facing require solutions that are larger than the nation.  Environmental degradation and climate change are easy examples .   They are problems that require the cooperation and commitment of the entire human community.  In his recent papal letter, Laudato Si, Pope Francis urges us to “care for our common home.”  In his opening passages he makes a point of addressing the encyclical not just to the church, but to “all people.”  He emphasizes that the problem affects our entire planet and requires a response that is not limited by nationality or religion.

The European migrant crisis is another current issue in which cosmopolitan values can be easily seen.  Germany’s response has been to accept hundreds of thousands of migrants.  This process will cost Germany an incredible amount; they are not doing it for their own benefit but out of a sense of moral obligation to humanity.    

A cosmopolitan view does challenge other loyalties.  It urges us to be human before we are American. But this does not mean that we should disavow our national identities and assume some sort of cosmopolitan citizenship.  That is neither practical nor possible.  National governments are necessary and often very helpful.  But problems do arise when we place greater value on our own nation and favor it at the expense of other human communities.  

It is ultimately a question of allegiance.  We owe our allegiance first to the global human community, and then to the American nation.  Patriotism is valuable, but it must be coupled with a cosmopolitan value for the broader human community.

When Pope Francis visited the United States two weeks ago, the whole world was watching.  And the whole world watched as a Muslim, a Jew, and a Christian embraced during the 9/11 multi-religious prayer service.  In that windowless room, in the basement of the 9/11 museum, the urgent call for peace was reverberating off the concrete walls.  

Yet some say that these cries are futile, that world peace is a romantic, unreasonable idea, a hopeless life preserver crashing amidst the waves, clung to by hippies and pacifists.  I’m not quite sure if I’m either one of those things, or perhaps both, but I will venture out into  the swells to say that world peace is possible.  I say this not with utmost certainty, but rather, with a feeble, yet deep-rooted hope that I am right.  By stating this claim, I am not trying to brush aside the terrible atrocities of this world, and I also understand the very real propensity towards hatred that, at times, seems to be almost human nature.

While my belief may not seem realistic in the fallen world that we are currently in, I think that it is the only choice we have.  To trust in the possibility of world peace is to do justice to all those that have suffered under the hands of inexplicable hatred.  This summer, I took twenty high school students to Japan on a three-week Japanese-American cultural exchange program, one that I had participated in myself three years earlier.  While there, we had the incredible opportunity to travel to Hiroshima and listen to the last English-speaking atomic bomb survivor.  It was hard to believe the words that spilled from her mouth, words that tried to make us understand the horrors of that day, August 6th, 1945.  But they were just words to us.  Only after, when we walked through the museum and saw the images and artifacts, did I understand what she meant when she described the skin falling off of people’s faces, like the outer skin on a roasted tomato being pulled clean.  

As I wandered through that museum for the second time, I did not want to be reminded of the hatred that haunts our world.  I did not want to be reminded of the effects of war upon the innocent.  I did not want to be reminded that the fighting didn’t end, that this atrocity is only one among many more.  Yet we must force ourselves to face these facts if we are going to be realistic about world peace.  It is not something to blindly follow, but rather, something that we must struggle with and remind ourselves daily.

We can no longer block out the news and shield ourselves from the hurt that surrounds our world.  We must listen to the stories of survivors with renewed fervor and passion, instead of despair.  We cannot desensitize ourselves to the hatred, but rather must glimpse the brilliant bits of raw humanity within all of this mess.  

Somberly, we exited the building and were guided through the Peace Park, marking the area surrounding the epicenter, through green tree groves, and over rivers in the golden afternoon light.  Slowly, the pit in my core unknotted itself as I saw a small child trying to match her stride with her father’s long gait.  And it began to grow into a seed of hope as my students discussed how they could tangibly bring about peace in our world.  

Now, when I think of Hiroshima, I see a beauty that eclipses the pain.  I see thousands of paper cranes fluttering in the wind – an offering of dedication and hope to restore peace in our world.  I see the deep, smiling eyes of the hibakusha, atomic bomb survivor, framed amidst a scarred face.      

So, for her sake and the sake of others, I will cling to this life raft of peace.  I will close me eyes and urge my soul to believe that a world like this is indeed possible, that she did not endure the excruciating pain of radiation for naught.  They said that nothing would grow in Hiroshima for seventy-five years after the bomb, but that fall, flowers were blooming.  Who are we to say that world peace is not possible?