My (Idealistic) Future of Politics

Finding common ground in an increasingly polarized world

By: Isabella Spitznagle

I started as a server, but as the summer days grew hotter, I found myself working behind the bar more often at my hometown sushi restaurant. I liked the rhythmic and creative process that went into crafting a cocktail. But what I anticipated most was the conversations I would have while bartending: locals stopping in for a drink after a week of work, looking to unwind; out-of-towners, tired from a long day of sightseeing, asking for the special of the night; and even a few folks who had never tried sushi, sitting down at the bar and adventurously looking through the menu. In the informal bar setting, it was easy to fall into an effortless banter, asking customers how their day or their week or their summer was going; and in turn I’d share about returning to Minnesota for school in the fall and my hopes for the year. And we’d often get into politics. 

I’ll never forget the young man who walked in one rainy Saturday night announcing he was looking for the best sushi in town. Pushing his stool up against the bar and taking off his dripping rain coat, he asked for a beer recommendation and I poured him my dad’s favorite, the Rift IPA. As he took his first sip, we began opening up about our days: I asked what brought him to town while he inquired what I was studying.

When I responded with environmental sciences, he probed what I thought about climate change. Being in environmental sciences, I view climate change not as a subject up for debate but a pressing issue that needs to be addressed immediately. In situations like these, it’s easy to respond with a judgemental look and a response along the lines of “what do you mean, what do I think about climate change?” before launching into an attack spewing facts and logic or just flat out avoiding the subject. 

I glanced outside at the rain pouring gently onto the flower beds. When did having different political beliefs from someone indicate the level of respect we should give them? We immediately make assumptions about the other person’s life and values and discredit their opinion. How could I be so judgmental of another person without knowing who they were—and only knowing their political beliefs. We frame the opposite party in terms of extremes: conservatives are racist bigots while liberals are sensitive snowflakes. Or, in 2020, do you wear a mask or do you not wear a mask? We are too tied to our political identities. At the end of the day, all everyone really wants is to be happy, healthy, and successful, right? 

I turned back to him, engaging with a smile, and gave him my honest answer. And he gave me his. Both of us were curious about the other’s experiences, values, and how they shaped our opinions. I learned that he had worked in an oil extraction site for many years and that it had transformed the way he perceived the importance of natural resources. He agreed that the environment needed saving, especially due to the use of plastic, and we connected about solutions to those problems. Instead of focusing on our many differences, we resonated with each other's similarities and learned from one another. 

After I turned off the bar lights, waved goodbye to the back of house chefs, and wandered home under the rain clouds, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for our conversation that night. 

These kind and open-minded discussions are hard to come by. No longer do we have conservative Democrats or liberal Republicans; people are urged to choose a side and fall into the stereotypes and common beliefs assigned to that group. It’s unrealistic to believe that everyone can be categorized into two parties when our life experiences,values, and needs differ so dramatically from person to person. The power of a single conversation defined a whole new level of understanding I could give to people with opposing views.

The more we isolate ourselves from people with opposing opinions, the farther away we are from bringing forth change. If you immediately discredit someone because of a political belief, you are contributing to the polarization of America.

Of course, I have to point out that there have been countless factors and cultural changes over the past thirty years that have led to the current divide. The end of the Cold War certainly put an end to our united identity as a nation and we seemed to move inwards, fighting ourselves when we no longer needed a united front. And there was also the rise of mass media in the 2010s: the spreading of false information, the fragmented remains of journalists' responsibility to truth, and the blatant mistrust in our news sources and public figures—not to mention the manipulation of political boundaries from gerrymandering. 

Regardless, I see the only path forward as repairing the sharply cut fabric that’s ripping apart our nation. So, how do we mend this divide and open the conversation if no one wants to start the discussion? It starts with listening, with not simply dismissing someone or refusing to hear their side. Even if you can’t get past what they’re saying, I encourage you to find similarities. What do you both value? What do you both wish for the future?

Ultimately, when fumbling with these thoughts of respecting and befriending those who share opposite beliefs, I run into a dilemma. Do we seek compromise and find middle ground to lessen the deep divide in America or do we push our heels into the ground and keep digging for our more radical agendas? I often feel guilty for taking the more moderate approach, but what good comes from contributing to the polarization and deepening the divide? There are issues we can’t compromise on, but what if we look for respect and understanding instead of pushing through our own agendas? We are a nation of more than 300 million people—we will never reach a full agreement and we can’t expect everyone to succumb to our own idealistic aspirations.

The man at the bar and I had nearly opposite perspectives, but that didn’t stop us from finding similarities in our hopes, visions, and desires for the world. Despite our fundamentally opposite beliefs, if you put the two of us in charge of passing policy for an issue, I feel certain we’d come out with something we could both believe in.

To this day, I am stuck balancing between these two ends of compromise and activism. A clear solution isn’t possible, but I believe we need to focus less on our disagreements and instead find unity. After all, when I think back to that night at the bar, I don’t think about our differences, but the unlikely friend I made.