I grew up in what you could call a two-party home. It wasn’t that one parent was necessarily a staunch Republican and the other a die-hard Democrat. They often switched sides so, really, they were independents. But they almost always canceled out each other’s votes and had lively debates (translation: arguments) about the issues.
Here’s one thing they agreed on, though, and it’s the principle that’s really stuck with me: You don’t vote for the party. You vote for the candidate whose values you support. You vote for whoever you think is the best person for the job.
This hasn’t only informed my voting decisions. It’s shaped my view of how our government works, about how our leaders should work together, about what’s possible when people put aside their differences and work for the common good.
My parents visiting Washington, D.C., on their honeymoon.
When you get right down to it, marriages and politics aren’t really all that different. There are negotiations. There are disagreements. There are good times and bad. There are issues where you’ll find common ground and others that will be a point of contention. There are days when you won’t even feel like speaking to each other and other days when your unity is the only thing that matters. In the end, though, a good marriage remains strong because for all the arguments or conflicts or grievances, you’re part of something bigger. The common good — the love you share, the vows you’ve taken, the family you’ve created — is more important than who left the cap off the toothpaste.
I firmly believe the same is true in politics. I think most people who run for office do it because they want to make a commitment to something bigger than themselves: their community, their country, their corner of the world. They want to serve with others who believe that our world can be a better place when we work together instead of against each other.
This is why I believe in the power of bipartisanship. Our country has been divided at times, as it certainly is today, but it has always managed to come back together. Good people have put country before party and worked together to create compromise, to solve problems and find solutions that unite us and make us stronger as a result.
Me, 64 years after my parents’ honeymoon.
We have a lot of work to do, it’s true. And it begins with each of us, with the desire to put petty partisanship aside and remember that we are stronger together. We have to be willing to accept each other’s differences, to live and let live in a country where everyone has the freedom to choose their destiny.
If every single citizen agreed to stop fighting about ideological differences and searched for common ground, that groundswell could eventually reach our leaders. We can tell them how we feel by writing letters, making phone calls or gathering peacefully outside their offices. We can tell them how we feel with our votes, by electing people who will work together instead of against each other.
It starts with each of us. My parents taught me that you don’t always have to agree to love each other or work as a team. Disagreements can be part of eventually reaching a compromise. You can have strong convictions and you don’t have to give them up. But sometimes, you have to concede just a bit. You can hold fast to your personal beliefs without imposing them on others.
If our leaders truly love our country — which should be the only reason they run for office in the first place — then they should put it ahead of everything else, and work together to find solutions that make our country stronger.
Because if we don’t move forward together, we’ll never get anywhere.
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I wrote this as I prepared to attend the Meeting to Make America Work! hosted by No Labels, an organization founded to foster bipartisan problem-solving in Washington.
This is one of my favorite stories of 2012. Because it’s a reminder that even when we think we’re hopelessly lost, we can find something unexpected.
It’s about my friend Nina, who is like a patron saint of stray animals (and people). Over the years, she’s taken in countless cats and found homes for many others. Once she rescued a turtle that was stuck on its back by the side of a road.
Most recently, Nina discovered a cat hiding under her deck. The weather was still fairly warm, so Nina set her up with food, a cat carrier and a blanket. But when the temperature plummeted, Nina brought the cat into her house.
This grateful little angel immediately snuggled in, untroubled by the displeasure of the resident cats, contented to find a warm home and a warm lap.
While Nina was trying to choose the right name for this unabashedly affectionate cat, she saw the father of Emilie Parker, one of the 20 children who died at Sandy Hook Elementary School, talking about how sweet his daughter was. That’s when Nina named the cat Emilie Parker.
Here’s the part of the story I love best: Every time Nina picks up Emilie, she says a prayer for the victims in Newtown. But Nina doesn’t just pray for the 26 people who were shot and killed in that school. Nina also prays for the shooter and his mother, something many people have not been able to do. I admit, I’ve struggled with it, too.
But, as Nina said simply, “They’re victims, too.”
She’s right. Nancy Lanza was the victim of true horror: being killed by your own child. Her son was the victim of the demons in his mind, of not getting whatever help he needed that might have prevented this tragedy.
I’m not saying it’s right that Nancy Lanza had an arsenal of deadly weapons. I’m not saying there’s any excuse for the actions of her son. But by praying for those who lost their lives and their loved ones — all of them — Nina exemplifies the true nature of forgiveness.
Forgiveness doesn’t mean we ever forget the tragedy. It doesn’t mean we don’t do everything possible to fix the broken system that allows people to obtain assault weapons more easily than they can get mental health care services.
But without forgiveness, we can never heal. I wouldn’t ever presume to tell the people of Newtown how to work through their grief and anger, how to move forward with their lives, how to find peace, or even that they must forgive.
All I know is this: When we forgive, we let go of pain and make more room in our hearts for love.
Someday, Nina’s other cats will forgive her for bringing home Emilie Parker. If you’ve ever known the wrath of a jealous cat, you know that means there’s hope for us all.
I don’t have words adequate to express my grief over the horror that took place at Sandy Hook Elementary School. I only know that if I could, I would do anything to help ease the suffering of this community.
Yes, we must talk about coming together as a country to prevent more tragedies.
But right now I simply want to express my heartfelt condolences. I read of one Newtown resident who said she felt like it was 9/11 all over again — and wondered if the rest of the country understood.
I want to assure everyone in Newtown that the country is mourning with them. Many of us haven’t stopped crying since Friday. Although we can’t truly understand the depth of their sorrow, we are all touched by this tragedy.
It could have been any of us. It could have been any child. It could have happened anywhere.
We are united in our grief. May the love, light and prayers being sent to Newtown from Americans and people all over the world bring some small measure of comfort to their hearts.
You are not alone.
