I had a discussion yesterday with a Facebook Stranger. The
kind of discussion that, even when you enter with good intentions, seems to become
agitated and end in a scramble for the last word. Preferably a resounding, clever last word as you attempt to leave the conversation with a
self-satisfied feeling you never do quite feel. This discussion ended
differently and gave me hope that people can still communicate with one another
productively in these divided times across the greater American snow globe.
I commented on the post because the scene it depicted
touched me deeply. It also troubled me, because I could imagine how it would
play out if it were shot from another angle. The post told the story of two
boys from a rough neighborhood, one who was talented at football and ultimately
made it to the NFL, and one who was not, who worked at McDonalds and then
joined the military. This post is timely in America, as football season comes
spiraling into the middle of our mutual playing field. And unless somehow you
avoid all contact with people both in your actual presence and on your devices,
the words flag and kneel are causing some sort of reaction for you.
Take one of the scene, as posted by a Facebook Stranger: Boy One, the NFL
player, kneels in protest before the flag as the national anthem plays. He has
no idea how fortunate he is, and he owes it all to Boy Two, the soldier, who once
in a while catches a game from a war-torn country far away as he risks his life
defending that flag. I watched it unfold with a weight on my heart because it’s
true, there is no fair comparison between football and war, and we watch
football on Sunday (and Monday, and Saturday, and Friday night, or not at all)
because we are free and safe to do so.
I’ve never been one to enjoy choosing sides. As a child I avoided
eenie meenie miney mo moments because someone was always going to be You-Are-NOT-It!
As a grown up I still want us all to get along in one big happy group. It’s not
a realistic wish, but it does lead me to examine the sides of an issue, wanting no one to be dismissed as not it. While my first reaction to the kneeling protesters
was to see them as clearly disrespectful, I started searching for what they had
to say about their reason for kneeling, which led me to dialogue about it with a
Facebook Stranger, trying to defrost the view from my snow globe into his.
I saw take one, and I wanted to show him take two because
the weight on my heart presses with equal force when I imagine it: two boys
from a rough neighborhood, looking for a way to make their lives better and
finding the opportunities frighteningly few. One is handed the idea that his
athletic ability can save his life; the other is not an athlete and instead is
handed the idea that the military can save his. It wasn’t the life either of
them dreamed of, but it was the one available. We see these boys as opposites,
but are they really?
I told him about a Netflix documentary series I’ve been
watching called Last Chance U, with athletes scouted into a community college
football program scratching and scrambling their way toward the NFL. It has
given me glimpses into the places they come from, one heartbreaking reality
after another. Lingering in my mind was the boy from a small Florida town where
people are “going in circles,” who watched his mentor, a junior league
football coach, get shot. He held his 3-year-old nephew and looked into the
camera, eyes dark with responsibility, “Ain’t nobody moving up, unless I move
up." His football story runs parallel to those on a reddit feed
full of comments from people found by recruiters and given the military as
their way out. Honorable as that choice is, many admit to making it because they
didn’t want to fall into dangerous patterns that make ends meet in tragic ways.
They have family counting on them and adding to the pressure, the whole country
is counting on them too.
In this land of opportunity, it seems to me there
should be many choices that lie between football and war, no matter what
neighborhood you’re raised in. True, America is full of opportunities, but how
many of us know young people who need to be shown the way, redirected, pulled
back, gently nudged forward? My sons had choices and more importantly, they had
people to show them how to find and consider the options. People who had
resiliency and stability, who cared about them personally, not only as scouts or
recruiters care.
Boy One and Boy Two live in this country, but there are many,
many more who are Boy Three. They aren’t athletic, they don’t cross the path of
a military recruiter, they aren’t good in school, they don’t have adults able
to meet their basic needs let alone show them options for their lives. They
repeat a cycle. They die needless, violent deaths or trudge in an out of
incarceration and the pain of their lives paves roads going nowhere. It’s for
Boy Three that Boy One is kneeling. And Boy Two supports him. In an interview
with more than a dozen black veterans from WWII to Afghanistan, all of them
expressed reverence for the flag they served, and all of them but one said they
thought of the kneeling as exactly what they fought for and didn’t feel
disrespected by it at all.
These thoughts I shared with a Facebook Stranger, and he
told me he believes take two is true. He also stood firm in considering
kneeling to be a display of poor character. Any disrespect of our flag is, in
his words, a disgrace. He wants instead to see players use their platform doing
concrete things to make a difference in the off-season, being an active example
for the kids who look up to them. He passionately believes in respect for the flag
that flies over our freedom and the sacrifices made to keep it waving there. I
believe in it too; In my snow globe I was raised with that respect firmly
planted in the secure ground of a safe and happy upbringing. I mourn the shadow
that has fallen over my sun bright patriotism, miss the uncomplicated tears
that filled my eyes when the anthem played and the flag was raised. It’s so
easy to turn away from those who have cast that shadow with their kneeling. But
I can’t quite turn away. I still cry when the flag is raised but the tears are
complicated tears now because some of them are for the circumstances from which
grew what he labeled poor character.
This issue is a raging one, a freezing force across the
country, but at the end of my discussion with a Facebook Stranger, I know if
the two of us were in charge we would reach a compromise on how to go forward.
I thanked him for the discussion, he told me he applauded me for taking the
stance I’ve chosen and stated strongly that all voices speaking out on this
topic should be heard and respected. We ended with “Good talking to you.” If we
can do it, another two and another two can do it. America can do it. One snow
globe indivisible.
Perspective: Let America Be America Again
Hope: Let's Listen Together
