I suspect that many of us share the same feelings regarding
this election. Similarly, I cannot believe that two weeks have passed since
Trump was declared president-elect. With each passing day resignation grows and
the uncertainty lingers. Trump’s rhetoric during his campaign instilled fear,
anxiety, and an uneasiness that us, young Americans, have never experienced
during our lifetime. I know that older generations have experienced years of uncertainty
in the past—whether economical, social, or cultural. The racial tension that
laid seemingly dormant and invisible to the naked eye is suddenly awakening,
but it is up to us, sensible Americans, to lead our families and communities in
unison. In the presence of uncivility, we must fight back by demonstrating civility.
It’s difficult to fully understand the depth of the divisiveness
if you are not the target of direct attacks whether verbal, psychological, or
sadly, physical.
An African American ACC student whom I personally know was
physically assaulted the day after the election near the capitol here in
Austin. Her attackers spewed out derogatory names as they angrily attacked her.
We might feel immune to the prejudice that fuels discrimination because we live in this Democratic bubble called Austin, but the divide is here in our city too.
We might feel immune to the prejudice that fuels discrimination because we live in this Democratic bubble called Austin, but the divide is here in our city too.
Recently, I find myself thinking much about Alexis de Tocqueville’s
Democracy in America. This book was written
by a French aristocrat about American government almost two hundred years ago.
It’s relevance to today’s modern political culture is incredible. Below I share
with you a quote from this book that I highly recommend if you haven’t had the
chance to read.
“There
are some nations in Europe whose inhabitants think of themselves in a sense as
colonists, indifferent to the fate of the place they live in. The greatest
changes occur in their country without their cooperation. They are not even
aware of precisely what has taken place. They suspect it; they have heard of
the event by chance. More than that, they are unconcerned with the fortunes of
their village, the safety of their streets, the fate of their church and its
vestry. They think that such things have nothing to do with them, that they
belong to a powerful stranger called “the government.” They enjoy these goods
as tenants, without a sense of ownership, and never give a thought to how they
might be improved. They are so divorced from their own interests that even when
their own security and that of their children is finally compromised, they do
not seek to avert the danger themselves but cross their arms and wait for the
nation as a whole to come to their aid. Yet as utterly as they sacrifice their
own free will, they are no fonder of obedience than anyone else. They submit,
it is true, to the whims of a clerk, but no sooner is force removed than they
are glad to defy the law as a defeated enemy. Thus one finds them ever wavering
between servitude and license.
When a nation has reached this point, it must either change its laws and mores or perish for the well of public virtue has run dry: in such a place one no longer finds citizens but only subjects.”
When a nation has reached this point, it must either change its laws and mores or perish for the well of public virtue has run dry: in such a place one no longer finds citizens but only subjects.”
-Alexis de Tocqueville, Democracy in America
