When Zoeys get political
When you travel alone and are in the company of new people or strangers, you hear a lot of opinions that, due to the circumstances, you just can’t debate. There’s a power in this though: being forced to act as a pretend non-judgmental anthropologist, you actually listen to what people are saying.
I don’t think most people are used to being heard and not interrupted anymore. Sure, on a recent trip to the States, I often listened intently to people because doing so was either linked to my safety or ability to travel, but I came to appreciate the exercise.
Shortly after the U.S. election, I took a trip to L.A. to visit Zoey Stevens (a friend I met online through our mutual namesake) and his family. With the election of President Donald Trump weighing over our heads, we had many full discussions on politics—including policies on immigration.
What I have never encountered in Canada is how it feels to be personally affected by someone coming into the country illegally. While in the States, I was told a story of a carpenter. I was told his work and livelihood was being affected by the flow of illegal workers into L.A., how the people outside of hardware stores are stealing their contracts.
This type of speech is not new, but the delivery was. I feel this type of thinking is problematic, but the emotion was real. It was not hate this person was feeling, it was desperation, confusion, sadness, and anxiety.
The moral merits of the idea that all people are born equal and deserve to be safe and free does not sink in when someone is thinking that these “others” are responsible for their family going hungry. Empathy is hard to muster when your own needs are not being met. The constant force that is telling people who feel depraved and let down to be caring, no matter what, is causing division by not acknowledging and honouring their individual experiences—no matter how upside-down they may be.
On a larger scale, this was Hillary Clinton calling Trump supporters “a basket of deplorables.” Being right logically or morally is not enough. The solution will take kindness and compassion, even to the people who disagree with you.
I spent a lot of time talking to strangers in L.A. while in transit and whenever else I got the chance. The feeling I had from the city going in was bright and optimistic, but by the time I left it felt nothing like the La La Land we dream about on-screen. Extreme poverty is only a few kilometres from incredibly wealthy areas. This juxtaposition is a pretty good metaphor for the city. We see the glitz, but there’s a whole other side to Los Angeles.
[media-credit name=”Zoey Ross” align=”aligncenter” width=”1020″]
The touristy things like Mulholland Dr. and the hills are great, but like most places, the people I met and what I learned are what’s important. James, our shuttle driver, was much more interesting than the house that Bieber trashed or the fact that Katy Perry has two houses because she doesn’t like neighbours. James does not give a care about anyone in those houses on any of those hills. I’d say this was one of the realest moments I had in Hollywood.
What I would say to anyone who decides to go to Southern California is do the top five things on Google, but don’t pass up the opportunity for something a little more authentic. Be brave enough to ask questions about politics and the grit that exists in everyday life south of the Canadian border. Lean into the awkward.
Photo courtesy of Zoey Ross