My ears are still ringing some twelve hours later. Last night I stood with 100,000 others and screamed at the top of my lungs. It was a close victory, but a victory none-the-less. Afterwards—a trip to the bowl game won—thousands spilled onto the field in raucous celebration.
At some point before, there was a lull in the action. I was fiddling with my phone when suddenly the crowd starting cheering. I looked at the field but nothing was happening. A guy behind me said “what are we shouting about?”, my friend pointed to the banner board which runs around the stadium: “Get Loud!”, it said. This was all we needed to join in. One push of a button. It’s good to be part of a mob now and again!
But it’s also a little frightening. As we left, the swell of emotion was high. We struggled to navigate through the press of happy bodies and still remain together. Our guest had come to cheer on the losing team and now they were facing a long drive home. On occasion, we overheard snide remarks directed at them. Nothing major, but not the friendly, courteous treatment they’d received in our neighborhood of the stands. I marveled at how easily one might swing this crowd in any given direction.
Last night we stood united and backed our team. And as we stood united, we also stood at a precipice. To be human we need to feel the unity of a crowd; we relish that chill in our spines that comes from crossing our hearts and pledging our allegiance together. This ancient nerve runs deep and true—straight back to a time when unity meant survival itself, and survival itself meant doing things we now consider atrocious.
Today we serve this primal need through peaceful competition just as we solve our disagreements through peaceful dialog.
Right.
When you stand with thousands and cheer on your favorite team you are sipping the same elixir that has fueled lynch mobs and driven machetes. When your priest, imam, rabbi, politician, or media commentator warns you of outside danger he is strumming the same instrument as Jim Jones and Joseph Goebbels. When you rally for your cause and shout down your neighbor’s, you are flirting with the same ignorance that fed the holocaust and sanctioned Sabra and Shatila.
By all means we should join together. By all means let us cheer on our team! But let us always be mindful of who has their finger on the button; who’s hands are measuring the shots, and pouring the elixir. In the end, the instinct we must outthink is the one that tells us it is far easier to unite around our differences, than it is to unite around our diversity.
© 2009 by Rodney Gleghorn. All rights reserved.
