Sound the Alarm

I think of us as friends because we meet here each month. So I’m going to let you in on some of the inner workings of my world as a writer. It involves sign language. It is, maybe not surprisingly, my own personal sign language. But I think once I demonstrate it, you’ll see it’s universal and easy to adopt.

Several times a week, I leave my office to work at a coffee shop. (The Ville is rich with great coffee shops.) I love the change of scenery. I also, in theory, love seeing other faces and the spontaneous conversations that happen as a result of “being out.”

It’s a delicate balance, though, isn’t it? On the one hand, there’s the energy of hearing about your latest theory on aliens, how your kids in Arizona are doing, and how you haven’t been the same since we lost our downtown Pizza Hut. On the other hand, there’s work.

I mediate this conflict by wearing headphones and listening to white noise while I work. Headphones allow me to be selective about which conversational distractions to accept. And this is where sign language comes in. The signs are necessary because many people misinterpret seeing someone face down with a laptop, muttering to themselves and typing feverishly, as an open invitation to a thirty-minute conversation.

So my sign language works like this:

I’m working at the coffee shop, as I might be right now, and someone walks in. Maybe they’re a long-talker or someone with a time-sensitivity disorder, or maybe I’m just making progress on my project. In those cases, I look up, smile, and even wave, but I leave the headphones in. That says, “I see you. I acknowledge your presence with this smile and wave, but I’m signaling that I’m not in a place to talk right now, which is why I’m leaving these headphones in. It’s a modified “Do Not Disturb” sign.

The second scenario involves taking a single headphone out. It says, “Hi. I am busy, but you’re important to me, and I can take a brief pause in my writing for a quick exchange. Emphasis on Quick.”

And third, is taking both headphones out and bringing the laptop lid to a three-quarter-closed position. This says, whether I wanted it or not, full-attention talking is about to happen for as long as I am in the coffee shop.

This third sequence of events happened to my wife a couple of weeks ago. Despite the signals, she found herself fully engulfed in a conversation not of her own choosing. She knows Eddie well, so having a conversation with him wasn’t a surprise or unwelcome. It was the conversation itself that felt like falling down the rabbit hole.

Eddie had apparently been thinking about something, and now it had him “all riled up,” as my father used to say. Someone on a podcast had strung together some broken facts, glued them together with fear, and now we were all under the threat of Sharia law. In fact, extremist Muslims would likely completely take over the country in less than 10 years. (As she recounted the conversation, for which I took out both headphones, I kept imagining a highly excitable character actor from the 50s running straight toward the camera and yelling hysterically, “The Muslims are coming! The Muslims are coming!”)

As I gave Ann-Janette my complete and undivided attention, with my laptop fully closed, it occurred to me that we had been down this road before. How many times has someone given voice to panic for the purpose of turning other people into enemies? When that happens, red flags should go up, and we should ask, “What are they trying to gain and why?”

Throughout human history, we’ve been called on to fear other people groups as a means to an end. Hitler couldn’t drop a speech on Friday and expect to start killing six million Jews on Monday. He first had to build a narrative of deceit and lies, casting them as the enemy of the German people, the root of all their trials. Once he had vilified and dehumanized them, the process of extermination began to seem rather necessary.

Here in America, fear tactics cast Native Americans as savages, so we could void treaties and take what we wanted. By the mid-1800s, the KKK was recruiting on fear and lies, preying on ignorance and painting African Americans as the threat. In the 1950s, the Red Scare had a communist under every bed. (“The Russians are coming! The Russians are coming!”) Then we were under attack by the hippies. By the 90s, it was our neighbors to the south. (“The Mexicans are coming! The Mexicans are coming! And they’ve got tamales and festive music and good family values. Our Union will never survive.”) This one was especially difficult because we were saying out loud, “Don’t come into our country,” while corporate America was actively recruiting those workers, saying, “Please come work in this country.” And then we all acted surprised - “Oh my goodness, how did all these Mexican workers get here?” We were like a woman on a diet who is suddenly outraged - “Oh my goodness, how did all these Little Debbies and ice cream that I bought get in my house?” (“The calories are coming! The calories are coming!”)

Then it was the homosexuals we were supposed to hate. (“The gays are coming! The gays are coming. And they’re making us laugh and dance and think. Our Union will never survive!)

In between all that history, we were also called to fear the Catholics, the Italians (who were taking all the jobs), and the Irish (who were taking all the jobs), not to mention the Jets and the Sharks (who were apparently taking all our GAP clothes). Time and again, we are called to fear and ultimately hate not only outsiders and existential threats but also other Americans. Citizens of this one nation under God, where everyone is supposedly created equal.

When we hear messages of fear and slander, red flags should go up. Alarms should go off in our heads. “Hey! Someone is sowing fear for the purpose of division and segregation for their own purposes.”

Now, if I may, I’d like to take a moment just to talk to my Christian friends. The rest of you can simply drop down to where it says, And in conclusion…I’ll meet you there in a minute.

Is it just us? OK. Hey, I didn’t want to say this in front of the others, but this whole dynamic is especially problematic for us. The very directive of Christianity is to reveal God to people by loving others, including and especially those we perceive as enemies. That mission is difficult to accomplish when we start by fearing and hating those we are called to love and serve. We look very worldly at that point.  What are the words of Jesus? “And they will know us by our hate and rhetoric. So go ye into all the world, every nation, teaching people to fear, mock, and loathe as I have done to you.” Maybe we should re-read that account.

So in conclusion…nice to have everyone back.

Look, you may not know it, but we’re only a few months away from another election. Enemies were born for such a time as this. When policies fail and approval ratings slip, when the stakes are high… well, brace yourselves. That’s when you’ll see commercials touting Christian values by men in khakis praying in churches while calling us to fear other Americans who would destroy our very democracy by simply sitting on the wrong side of the aisle. (“The “thems” are coming! The “thems” are coming!”)

Don’t fall for it. Sound the alarm. Demand that your candidate do better. If their policies aren’t strong enough to stand on their own (without crushing others to make themselves look taller), they aren’t worth it. That’s just someone small, standing behind the curtain, calling himself the Wizard of Oz.

I’m on my third refill here at the coffee shop, so it may be time to head back to the office. I just have to make sure there are no long-talkers between me and my car. But in the meantime, I enjoyed our conversation. You’re always worth taking my headphones off for.

There’s so much good to be done out there, friends. Let’s get on with doing it.