Voting for Iowa values

There is something peaceful about driving across rural Iowa on a sunny autumn day. It is more than peaceful; it is almost healing. The sun rays kissing the colorful leaves on their way to warm the drying grass. Horses and cows calmly munching on hay and gazing at passing cars with large soulful eyes. The light fall wind making ripples on reflections of barns in glimmering, small ponds.

The Sunday prior to election week, I paused my drive and decided to visit the American Gothic house in Eldon. I had visited the site twice before. Once after the funeral of my best friend at her family’s house in Douds. The second time after her little brother’s funeral a year later. Even though I had a long drive ahead of me, I wanted to visit the iconic farmhouse in a state of peace instead of one of mourning.

Feelings of peace and mourning have frequently been on my mind leading up to election day. And I know I am not alone. Younger Americans are reporting feeling “ nervous and scared,” and stress is taking a toll on marriages and even physical health. I don’t know about you, but I am longing for peace, and am mourning loss of hope for what this country should be.

We have allowed ourselves to become increasingly tolerant of misinformation and vitriol, and of a mentality of “but look at what they did.” My hope for election year is not that you vote for my preferred candidates. That would be nice, but my hope is that we all take a good hard look inside and see if we can honestly tell ourselves we are voting in a way that honors our values.

When is the last time we fact checked a negative post about the opposing candidate before reposting it? When was the last time we asked “tell me why you believe that” before trying to logically explain why someone else is wrong?

Interrupting my Sunday drive reverie were vulgar political signs. Not vulgar because they were someone I would not vote for. But vulgar due to language that I would not want my 10-year-old daughter to see. More disturbing were news reports of rallies containing racist and misogynistic statements or threats of violence.

We know that no one candidate will perfectly match our ethical codes and ideals. But do the actions of who we voted for, or who we are going to vote for, match our so-called values? How are we reconciling the words that come out of their mouths with the image we have created in our minds with the help of their campaign propaganda. How have we seen the humanity in the other candidate despite manipulative sound bites, foreign interference, and AI generated falsehoods? And how is this dehumanization carrying over to supporters of that candidate?

This is not meant to condone the actions of certain candidates. We need to believe people when they show us who they are. And we need to hold them accountable.

But we must be careful in how we are labeling, categorizing and mistreating people based on the political dichotomy of this country’s two-party system. The first step in justifying violence is dehumanization. And this is a threat to our democracy. And there is a simple solution to this. One that is very aligned with commonly touted Iowa values.

According to the Art Institute of Chicago, Grant painted American Gothic to represent positive rural values and reassurance for all Americans. We cannot ignore wrongs, label them as divisive concepts, and neatly tuck them away. But there is a lot of hope, and a lot of positivity to build on.

When we are not hiding behind a screen, our interactions are much more civil. We can build more relationships locally. We can seek out those who are physically, ideologically, and socioeconomically different from us to broaden our perspective and understanding of humanity.

I stopped in Bonaparte to fill up my gas tank, which is where I met Buffy and her non-fur mom. They were on the way to a Halloween parade for the town’s children. We discussed dogs and Halloween. I have no idea how different we were politically. But we both love our dogs, and we want to nurture the children that surround us. Those are commonalities we can build upon. These commonalities exist all around us, if we take the time to look for them.

In the next two days, take a walk in nature. Take some deep breaths. And think about the country you want for your loved ones.

And no matter what happens on Tuesday, let’s build more bridges and find ways to work together.

Chris Espersen is a Gazette editorial fellow, chris.espersen@thegazette.com