Like so many, I am heartbroken by the results of the presidential election and have been trying to make sense of it. It is hard to understand our collective choice to reinstate a leader who promotes ideas that sow division and fear.
And yet, divisiveness and fear of "the other" are such familiar feelings for so many of us. We know what fear feels like. We know what distrust of others feels like. We know what it feels like not to belong. Some among us feel superior to others based on identity factors. The idea that we are separate communities is a longstanding element of American culture.
And there is a lot that just isn't working for the majority of people in the United States today. The way we have structured our economic system has allowed money and power to accrue in grotesque proportion to the few. Millions of people across the country struggle to make ends meet, and our nation is currently unable to provide such basic necessities as sufficient housing. In our population centers, this failure is heartbreakingly visible on our streets — reminding even those who are comfortable that things are broken.
So when we hear the next president of the United States tell us that our problems are caused by the "other," it feels familiar. It is an easy diagnosis to understand and the solutions are easy to understand, too. We need to get rid of those who hold us down: the other, the them. So deport, tariff, belittle, imprison. Even shoot in the face.
Yesterday's results are not incomprehensible. But they are heartbreaking. Because that prevailing diagnosis is diametrically incorrect. And the accompanying policy solutions are dehumanizing not only to those our next president seeks to punish, but to any of us who enable this harm and devastation.
The truth is that our systems are not working for us BECAUSE we have built them on division and fear. We have built them on the misunderstanding that some people matter more than others, that there is no link between individual wellbeing and community wellbeing. We have created an economic system that allows for people to live in deprivation because we believe they deserve it. We have created a housing system that leaves some people outside because we don't think we are responsible for each other.
These ideas have existed since the inception of our nation, which has given them time to wholly shape our systems. And these beliefs have produced a nation in which scarcity is reality for the majority of people, while a small few have more than they could ever need. And that is reinforcing fear, survivalism, and division.
There is another path forward for us. We do need to rebuild our systems — and not just the ones that our next president has promised to destroy. But rather than rebuild on the basis of us-versus-them, of fear, we can rebuild on the basis of love and cohesion. Of understanding that we are all truly in this together, so we must build solutions that work for ALL of us — regardless of identity, social standing, documentation, or any other factor.
As we look to the months and years ahead, we must be prepared to counter the harm that comes from both a narrative and practice of targeting the other. We must be prepared to present a tangible, viable, love-based blueprint for the structures we actually need for our communities to thrive. This work begins by centering the voices of those who are most marginalized, and for it to truly serve the community, it must be done in community.
We at SPUR are committed to creating a new way forward — and you can see it in our work already underway to make local government more effective, help transit find a new business model, and fix our housing production system.
These next few years will shape us, but this choice of president does not have to define us. We can still turn toward each other rather than away. We can still believe in a future in which we all truly thrive.
We can still choose love.
I hope you will join us.
Alicia John-Baptiste
President and CEO, SPUR