This past weekend, I spent some time at our family beach house to get away from all the usual distractions of my home. However, the tranquility of my little weekend getaway was interrupted by a comical and disturbing display of trucks, golf-carts and jeeps blaring country music and bearing American flags along with various versions of pro-Trump and pro-gun banners.
Little did I know, I had entered what a friend of mine called “the Redneck Riviera”.
It is not a term that I particularly like, or necessarily agree with, but I was struck by the palpable level of angst and anger as people carelessly weaved in and out of people walking on the beach, shouting and drinking as they kicked the sand up.
I kept asking myself: why are they so angry?
It is not new, and hardly limited to the stretch of beach where I found myself this past weekend. I confess it was hard not to pass judgement, and it made me even more concerned about the upcoming election: perhaps there are more people out there who will vote for Trump than I originally thought.
How will we learn that the opposite of anger is not necessarily happiness, but humility?
In that same moment, I also recalled a documentary I saw many years ago: Waiting for Superman, about the education system in the United States. It is a disturbing portrayal, but of all the things I recall about that documentary I saw so many years ago, it was how the education systems of the United States compare to other countries. In every category except one, the United States has fallen on the global rating. Math, science, reading, writing – all down. The one uptick: confidence. Americans are more confident than any other country in the world, even if we do not have a reason to be.
Confidence was on full-display this past weekend. It is on full display in our politics. It is on full display throughout this country. It a great country, but it has allowed the substance of that greatness to be overshadowed with bravado and showmanship.
Perhaps this is the source of our anger: that we know we are not who we claim to be. November will indeed be telling, but I wonder what happens to all this anger then? How will we learn that greatness is not bestowed; but rather it is earned? How will we learn that the opposite of anger is not necessarily happiness, but humility?
I do not yet know. But I look forward to the day when we can stand on the seashore, humbled by the vast beauty all around us, gently nodding to those around us who do the same.