Fear and change

We treat people as gentlemen not because they are, but because we are.

- Steve Glode

My late father used the above expression often. I don't think he invented it but I heard it a lot as a kid. We used to have spirited political discussions around the dinner table, but his bottom line was always we were to be gentlemen in all our dealings - regardless of how different our views were from others and regardless of how they conducted themselves.

This mantra has come into play with me countless times as my career evolved from inner-city caseworker to social-worker to child-protection program manager to private-practice attorney to district attorney to international development manager.

It has saved me at each juncture.

Each turn in my life presented unique challenges to test this maxim. This election makes it more difficult than ever to follow my dad's advice.

I was born and raised in New Haven, Connecticut, and I had the chance to visit my old home-town recently. I walked the green in the center of town with my wife and regaled her with stories about my childhood. I took her to the spot on the green where as a child I stood with my mother and watched then-presidential-candidate John Kennedy give a speech. I was in the sixth grade and she thought it such an important event she took me out of school that day to hear him, something she never did for any reason.

You see I was raised Catholic and, believe it or not, a Catholic presidential candidate was a huge deal then, and especially to Catholics. There were fears by non-Catholics that the Pope would run the country if Kennedy got elected and, as irrational as these fears were, they were very real to those who held them.

Fear worked in Nixon's favor but, happily, not enough (although he would have an encore a few years later). The fears of a Catholic conspiracy, of course, were not realized.

Anger and fear have always been a part of our politics, and I have seen it play a role in each and every election since. Once the election is over, it generally dissipates over time and we pick up the pieces and move on. Historically, candidates eventually treat each other as the gentlepeople in the above expression, and we live to fight another day.

I'm not sure that will happen this time.

There is a lot of fear in some quarters in this country over the way things are changing, and changing rapidly - from the shrinking coal mines in West Virginia to the rust belt's declining manufacturing to globalization. Our values, our culture, our economy seem to be evolving in strange and mysterious ways and with a lightning speed we cannot fathom. Change has been fast-tracked. It can be scary.

The deep-rooted fears are coming from all angles and everywhere. I recently read the column "Flaming out" in this paper, and although at first blush my impression was the column was merely a disorganized, angry rant I now believe it came from widely held fear at the way things are changing. Heck, it even appeared on page 2, so Mr. Rullman is not alone with his anger.

This unsettling feeling is almost universal, now, on both sides of the political spectrum. We are put in a position where we are questioning everything and, mostly, we fear just letting go. I am not aware of any time when letting go was so universally worrisome.

I am far more concerned about November 9 than November 8. I write this column well before it appears in the paper, so while it is written before the election it likely will not appear until after we know the results. As of this writing one candidate has not said whether he will honor the results. Many have suggested a revolution is in order as the only way to ensure the change they seek. The more fear and anger are fanned the more entrenched and polarized we become. There will be no spiking the ball after this is over. Everyone, all of us, me and you will need to let go of a lot when this is done.

The change will not end on November 9, it will merely accelerate. Perhaps we can all take a deep breath and remember what my dad said.