As one of 670 attendees at the July 2023 Braver Angels National Convention in Gettysburg, Penn., I found myself in good company. Everyone I met across the political spectrum shared my fear that the United States is on the brink of another civil war. It wasn’t by chance that we were gathered on the bloodiest battlefield in our nationโs history. The stakes for keeping our republic, to paraphrase Thomas Jefferson, couldnโt be higher.ย
Braver Angels is the nationโs largest cross-partisan, volunteer-led organization dedicated to healing the toxic polarization thatโs rending the fabric of our society. I had been a nominal member since shortly after its founding in 2016, but this was my first national convention. My four days in Gettysburg transformed the level of my engagement. I left with the conviction that this is the most important political work I can do.
At the end of our first plenary session, the convention co-chairs sent us out with a directive. โWhen you go to the Gettysburg College cafeteria for your meals, sit with someone with a different colored lanyard and ask, โWhy did you come to Gettysburg?โ Then just listen to what they say.โ
Sit with a Red? I hadn’t had a connecting conversation with anyone ideologically different from me since I left my medical practice in 2006. I live in a Blue bubble. My house sits at the end of a Blue cul-de-sac in a Blue neighborhood in a Blue city. All my friends and relatives are Blue.
What an exciting and nerve-wracking opportunity! Where else could I sit down with โone of themโ and have an open-hearted mutual listening session?
Ten times over the next four days, I overcame my anxiety and broke bread with Reds. To my astonishment, we had far more in common than I ever would have guessed. Our conversations filled me with joy, relief and hope.ย
I came to understand the widely shared wariness and fear of Reds in the presence of Blues (How could that be? Iโm afraid of them!) as well as some of the issues that draw people of color to the Republican party โ such as school choice, self-reliance and concerns about crime and the border.ย
I learned of egregious, transgressive behaviors across the political spectrum that are sowing hatred and mistrust among us, from severe cancel culture on the far left to malevolent trolls on the far right.
Of all my conversations, the one that had the most lasting impact was with a woman wearing a red lanyard who sat two seats from me during a breakout session.
As the meeting ended and the attendees filed out, she turned and introduced herself. We started to chat. Within a few minutes, she confided that she was nervous about whether she could make it through the entire four days. Her eyes misted as she confided that if this conference had been six months earlier, she’d be wearing a blue lanyard.
I thought, this woman has a story to tell. I asked her if she wanted to talk about it.
The next day we found a quiet corner of the campus, and for the next 90 minutes, I just listened to what she said.ย ย
Eve (a pseudonym) is a professor at a prestigious university where sheโs been on the faculty for 30 years. Since the beginning of COVID-19, sheโs been teaching all her classes by Zoom. Sheโs had no physical contact with her students for three years. So when the university mandated that all faculty get vaccinated, she applied for an exemption. She would be putting no one at risk, and she had health issues that led her to avoid exposure to an agent that was still under emergency use authorization.ย
Her request was denied. The chair of her department threatened her with suspension. More painful than anything was the opprobrium she received from her academic colleagues. These long-time friends (all of them Blue) strongly disagreed with her decision. Over time, they ghosted her. Even her daughter, with whom she had enjoyed a close relationship, stopped talking to her. All because she had made a decision based on values that she held sacrosanct โ autonomy over her body, safety and freedom of choice.ย
Ultimately, she did get her exemption but only after employing the intervention of the county sheriff.
The fallout has been devastating. Sheโs lost her entire social network, including those who had been members of her own Blue tribe โ leading to her decision to swap her blue lanyard for a red one at Gettysburg โ something she previously couldn’t have imagined.ย
The day after our listening session, she sent me this email:
“Joel, I do believe the universe conspires to bring our intentions and our needs together. And so, you sat beside me. I had such a better day after our talk and now feel that I can and will make it through the convention. Many thanks for such an open way of being there for me. With trust and love from your new Red friend Eve.”
I responded:ย
“Iโm so grateful [that we talked], glad you were transparent with your tears and trusting of my good intentions! The profound and painful loss you’ve suffered by exerting your free will is a powerful lesson of the dangers we face as a nation. Iโd heard of such things, but I’ve never witnessed them through the eyes of someone whoโs lived them. Listening to you has opened me to the harm that can come from unbending zealousness in the name of the greater public good. Yours is a story worth sharing. With trust and love back to you from your new Blue friend Joel.”
The next Braver Angels National Convention will be in Philadelphia June 24 to 28. Interested? Email the author atย jberman@bravrangels.orgย to find out more, or visitย braverangels.org.
Joel Berman lives in Concord.