"I hate my opponent, and I don't want the best for them”
The following blog is my personal reflection to these words, a brief discussion on the psychological phenomenon of group identity, and some ideas for those interested in a deeper examination of their own relationship to politics (since, like it or not, the political is personal).
This quote has taken me on quite a deep dive of self-reflection over the last month. You’ve probably seen these words circulating in the media. How did they land for you? What did you feel? Were you inspired, disturbed, a mix?
My knee-jerk reaction was a deep sense of self-righteousness: “Are y’all hearing this? I know better than that. Couldn’t be me! Peace, love, kindness!”
Then, after much more thought, I had some brutally clear feelings of resonance. While I endeavor to be someone who holds compassion and “wants the best” for everyone, I had to admit to myself that there have been moments, in rage or fear, where I have not wanted the best for those whose views threaten mine (and often, threaten my rights, or the rights of others). I’ve felt judgment, condemnation, and superiority. I’ve wanted to prove my side more than I’ve wanted to understand.
These feelings can partially be understood by looking at the very human phenomenon of group identity – through a neuroscience lens, group identity refers the impulse to surround ourselves with likeminded community and to judge those we deem as an “other.”
We are social beings, so meaningful community is not flippant; it is a vital part of a healthy human life. Functioning at its best, group identity improves our sense of wellbeing, helps us cope with uncertainty, and protects us from stress and loneliness. One study published in the National Library of Medicine writes, “When individuals identify with groups, they derive collective self-esteem from those groups because identification enhances the perception of a shared outlook on life and furnishes people with a sense of purpose and belonging—which should in turn have positive consequences for their personal self-esteem” (Jetten, Jolanda et al).
Like everything, though, group identity has a shadow side. This human impulse sheds light on how we become polarized. The prevalence of good and bad, left and right thinking is at an all-time high. Especially as we all yell at each other over the internet. Group identity enables us to become more biased and discriminatory toward the “other,” thinking less creatively and less critically.
I am not suggesting we abandon our communities or become politically neutral. I want to be clear that I am not politically neutral. My politics are foundational to my identity as a human and a therapist, driven at its core by my desire to see all humans have fundamental and equitable rights; an area where we not only have lots of work to do, but where we continue to see massive backtracking in terms of progress.
I’m inviting us to consider how we can approach ourselves and our group identity biases. Perhaps with this lens, we can see others with more gentleness, openness and curiosity. And perhaps we can take fierce care of our own hearts and spirits in the process.
It is a human need to feel safe. I believe we are all doing what we can (in our day-to-day lives, in voting rooms, in blasting our beliefs on social media) to feel a little more okay. There is a part of me that is working hard to investigate how the “other” side might be voting in a way that makes them feel safe, too. Maybe, just maybe.
I am inviting us to consider how we are helping ourselves feel okay, safe, and maybe even occasionally hopeful. I wonder how we might make bigger impacts, have more thoughtful conversations. Just imagine if our leaders did the same.
In closing, it feels important to recognize that we do not all face the same levels of oppression and marginalization. Therefore, individuals may have varying degrees of capacity for deep reflection or patience in perspective taking at any given moment. I don’t wish to slap toxic positivity on top of systems that need serious dismantling and reworking. I also want to acknowledge that as a cisgender, white, able-bodied, thin person with financial stability (and while I’m a queer woman, I am also “straight passing”), I come to this conversation with lots of privilege.
Reflection questions for times of division
1) How do my voting habits help me feel safe and secure?
2) Where can I become aware of my own privilege in this culture and where it might be giving me a political blind spot? How can I work to unpack that?
3) What gives me hope for the kind of world I want to see?
4) How do I want to approach conversations with those who see things differently than my core “in-group” identity (openness, boundaries, self-advocacy, other)?
5) What are my core values and why? Have I been living in alignment with them? Are there actions I could be taking to embody my values more?
6) How can I self-soothe in moments when I feel flooded by emotions (defensiveness, anger, blame)?
7) Where can I schedule things that bring me joy?
8) What steps can I take to practice seeing common humanity more often