We Who Believe in Freedom
“What do you believe? That’s your starting point. That’s your mission.” — President Barack Obama
“We who believe in freedom cannot rest until it comes.” — Ella Baker and Bernice J. Reagon
Last week I was reminded of that old story, attributed to Cherokee wisdom, about the two wolves. Even if you know the story, it bears repeating, as good stories do. This is my retelling of the story.
A young child with a troubled heart approaches their wise elder. With teary eyes and hunched shoulders, the child sits down beside their elder and says. “The other kids are so mean. They are big bullies. They tease me and make me feel so bad. I just want to punch them!”
“Oh, I know just how you feel,” the elder gently replies. “I have felt that way many times myself.”
“You know,” the elder continues, “sometimes it feels as though I have two wolves living inside me. They are battling each other, each one of them trying to get my attention.
“One wolf is kind, understanding, and peaceful. That wolf lives with an open heart and approaches others with compassion — and, when necessary, even forgiveness. That wolf finds joy in living.”
“What about the other wolf?” asks the child.
“The other wolf is quick to take offense, quick to anger,” the elder responds. “That wolf frequently judges others to be enemies and lashes out violently. That wolf growls and barks and bares its teeth. Sometimes it even bites! That wolf is an angry wolf, whose heart is consumed by anger and hatred.
“Those two wolves fight inside me all the time,” concludes the elder.
The child looks up at their elder with wide, questioning eyes. “But which wolf wins the fight?” asks the child.
“The one I feed,” replies the elder.
On June 17, former President Barack Obama was interviewed by historian Heather Cox Richardson at a civic event hosted by the Connecticut Forum in Hartford, Connecticut. You can watch the conversation on YouTube: Bing Videos
There was President Obama in true form, delivering his ex-temporaneous remarks thoughtfully, with the same long pauses to choose just the right words that I remember hearing when he was in office. And there was Heather Cox Richardson with her incisive questions to move the conversation along.
Do you mind if I make a detour here?
I really love history, so it is no accident that I also love historian Heather Cox Richardson’s daily blog, “Letters from an American” on Substack. Through her “Letters,” Richardson has become one of the most reliable chroniclers of ongoing, current American history — this complicated, troubling period we are living through. She often anchors her essays in older history, finding parallels from America’s past and also delineating the back story to current events.
Recently I read an article in a mainstream American newspaper that referred to her as “anti-Trump,” but that description mischaracterizes her. She is pro-democracy, and yes, that makes her a critic of the Trump administration, which is tearing our democracy apart at the seams. Above all, Richardson advocates for reality-based coverage of national and world events. These days, when there are powerful voices in our culture that eschew reality, truth, and honesty in favor of deceitful spin, Richardson’s “Letters” are a powerful antidote. You can listen to her describe her work herself here: Bing Videos
Heather Cox Richardson has a large following. An historian rock star! My geeky self loves that.
And there she was, in conversation with President Obama.
Obama told a couple of stories that night.
Listen:
“There is a story about America that includes everybody,” he said. “It’s a good story. It’s a story about people who aren’t pretentious and don’t believe that anybody is worse than them or better than them, that we’re all endowed with a core dignity and are deserving of rights and respect — and have to assume responsibility for ourselves individually and our collective lives. We all play a part.
“That, historically, has not been a Republican or a Democratic idea,” he continued. “That is an American idea that everybody could tap into. If that ends up being our starting point for our common identity — if our starting point is these homespun values of we don’t have aristocracies here, we don’t have rank, we don’t have monarchies, we have rule of law, all people are equal in the eyes of the law, that we all have a part to play in democracy, that we all have to take individual responsibility for our lives but we also have to, as Lincoln said, ‘do some things together because we can do it better than we can do it apart’ — if that’s our starting point, I think we’ll be okay.”
“But that’s not where we are right now,” he went on to say.
“Right now, we are seeing a politics that is reasserting a bad story of America, which is that — even if there aren’t, technically, ranks — we like the idea of castes and we like the idea of hierarchy. And, some people [say], ‘This is our country, [we are] the real Americans. And these other people are the phony and the fake Americans. [They] are not even American.’
“And that story also has a deep history in this country. It says the first Americans are not Americans. And slaves are not Americans. And women are sort-of Americans as long as they do what their husbands say. And people of different sexual orientations — we don’t even want to hear about them. That story has been part of America as well.”
Obama went on to describe the “Bloody Sunday” march at the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma in 1965, saying that “was as important a battle as Concord and Lexington and Appomattox, because, you have on one side John Lewis — he had a backpack with an apple and a toothbrush — and maids, and college students who had flown down, and rabbis, and young priests. And they are carrying with them across that bridge this better story that we’re all equal, we all have a place, nobody’s worse, nobody’s better.
“And on the other side you’ve got folks on horseback with Billy clubs and guns and dogs. And they’re carrying a different story, which is, ‘No, ignore what we say in the Declaration of Independence. We have castes. And some people are better and more deserving than others, and they have more power and more wealth.’ And I think that question right now is being called,” Obama said.
Both stories are part of our country’s DNA. Which story wins? The good wolf or the bad wolf? The America that holds out the promise of equality, respect, and democracy? Or the America of castes and hierarchies, where some people are deserving and others not? Which group carries its story across the Edmund Pettus Bridge today?
And I know, I know. At the moment, it’s difficult to hear, or even begin to imagine, that the good story might win. After all, America has just attacked Iran, apparently deciding (well, apparently, one person deciding) that it was quite okay to circumvent any kind of diplomacy. After the attack was all over, President Trump thanked God, as if to lend legitimacy to America’s abhorrent violence by claiming God’s support for it.
And then just yesterday (June 23) the reactionary Supreme Court released its decision upholding the Trump administration’s practice of kidnapping immigrants and rendering them to countries not of their own origin. (Some call this “deportation,” but that is a misuse of the word. Strictly speaking, “to deport” means to send someone back to their country of origin. When you send them someplace else against their will, that is a different thing altogether.)
Then there was last week, when President Trump paid no tribute on Juneteenth, other than to whine that we have too many federal holidays, insinuating that Juneteenth, a holiday that celebrates freedom and the end of slavery, is unimportant and extraneous. And the Supreme Court upheld a Tennessee law that prohibits doctors from offering puberty-delaying medication, hormone therapy, or surgery to transgender minors. Under the Tennessee law, such treatments can be legally offered to cisgender youth. Only transgender youth are singled out — a clear example of the bad story that asserts some people are more worthy of dignity and rights and others are less worthy.
Those examples are only the tip of the iceberg on which our country’s ship is floundering at the moment. The list goes on and on and on, with countless examples of the attitude of superiority that assumes worthiness is derived from power and hegemony. These days, we watch the President arrogate power to himself that he does not legally have, we witness Congress abdicate the power it legally does have, and we see the Supreme Court endorse some reactionary, hierarchical, vision of an America steeped in injustice.
So, where is our good story? Where is our good America? How do we feed the good wolf?
Let’s remember the words of late Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis: “The most important political office is that of the private citizen.” That means you and me. The most important political office — that of private citizen — is the guardrail that must reassert America’s good story. The institutions appear to be failing us, but we still have us.
We still have us. And that is no small thing. In fact, it’s a good thing — a very good thing — indeed.
America has been falling short of the mark ever since the beginning — and lately, so much so that America doesn’t even feel like America to me. That’s not because we are inherently bad. It’s because we are human and imperfect.
But that doesn’t mean we can let go of our aspirations.
The good story wins when we embrace it individually and live it collectively in every way we can, even with all our faults and failures. The good story wins when we remember John Lewis who headed over the Edmund Pettus Bridge with an apple and a toothbrush in his backpack. An apple and a toothbrush! When there were troops on horses, with guns and Billy clubs and snarling dogs coming straight for him! But he headed over that bridge anyway. Let’s not forget that, despite the challenges and setbacks (including Lewis himself nearly being beaten to death on that bridge) America’s good story ultimately won the day back then. The people who marched across that bridge carried America’s good story with them, right up until today.
The good story wins when we remember we stand on the shoulders of giants like Lewis, but also when we consider all the seemingly little people who preceded us, taking whatever nonviolent steps they could to move the nation forward. We may never know their names, but we stand on their shoulders, too: All those people in Montgomery, Alabama, who refused to ride the city buses until the laws changed to allow Black people to sit anywhere they wanted on the bus. All the nameless people who organized voter drives. All those people who marched on Washington. All those people who wrote to and called their legislators and showed up for rallies. All those people who showed up to vote, even though they knew they would be turned away and maybe even arrested because the laws unfairly excluded them. All the women who fought for the right to vote, and all the women who united to “take back the night.” All the LGBTQ+ people at Stonewall, whose bravery launched the movement for gay rights.
Let us remember all those people who took seriously their important public office — that of private citizen. All those people did what they could, when they could, as often as they could, wherever they could, because they believed in the first story, the good story. They saw their parts in helping that story blossom.
Now it is our turn to help America’s good story bloom. It may feel as though we have only an apple and a toothbrush in our backpacks, but if we can muster the courage to cross that bridge, we will help the good story take hold. If we put one foot in front of the other, even if there are troops on horses with dogs, Billy clubs, and guns, our bravery will help to keep bringing our country to birth. Now it is our turn to help to make America’s aspirations real.
When President Obama appeared before the Connecticut Forum, he mentioned that he sometimes gets calls from businesses or law firms or universities seeking his advice when they are under attack from the Trump administration. He said his advice is always the same. “What do you believe?” he asks them. “That’s your starting point. That’s your mission.”
So I ask you, what do you believe?
That’s your starting point. That’s your mission.
I will tell you I believe in the first story, the good story of an America that believes all people possess a core dignity and are worthy of respect and equal rights — not as fact, because America has never quite achieved what she has aspired to achieve. But I believe it as a guidepost, a way of living, an aspiration to uphold, and a goal to work to make real.
This week I have taken comfort and inspiration from Ella’s Song, composed by Bernice J. Reagon, with words by Ella Baker. Bernice Reagon, as you may recall, was a member of the African American vocal group, Sweet Honey in the Rock. Ella Baker was a civil and human rights activist. Please enjoy this old recording of Sweet Honey in the Rock singing Ella’s Song. It gives me hope, and it reminds me of my starting point and mission: “We who believe in freedom cannot rest until it comes.”
Love,
Sylvia
I appreciate this. Thank you.
Yes. Beautifully said. Beautifully told. Thank you.