Are you talking with your neighbors about politics?

I have been talking to mine. It is not easy going even though my neighbors are
the nicest people. Several say talking about politics can damage relationships.
Two were concerned to preserve peace of mind, one saying, “I have to have an
optimistic belief about Trump in order to sleep” and the other said, “I like to keep
my brain in calmer places.” An especially sweet man surprised me with his threat
to fight any Trump supporter who came on to his property. Another said that as
long as Trump can keep the stock market stable “I just don’t care.” And finally, an
older man returning home from a hard day at work said, “You are old. You live in
the woods. Why do you care?”

I got the sense from these conversations and also from the substitution of
Listening Sessions for Town Halls in Lyndeborough and other nearby towns that
talking about politics these days can feel divisive and useless. Perhaps we are
afraid of what the other person might say. Or confused about what to say
ourselves. Maybe we are shutting out the news —which would not be surprising
given what we have witnessed: Elon Musk chain-sawing USAID and “throwing it
into the wood chipper,” the on again off again tariffs, the affordability crisis,
the termination of SNAP food aid, threats to Medicare, Medicaid, Social
Security and the Affordable Care Act. And now we have armed and masked ICE
and Border Patrol agents in the streets of Democratic led cities. On
Jan. 6 there was a demonstration against a proposed ICE facility in
Merrimack. On Jan. 7 in Minneapolis a mother of a 6-year-old was shot and
killed in her car by an ICE agent. She was a U.S. citizen. On Jan. 22, ICE
agents arrived in Portland, Maine, and protests began.On Jan. 24 again in
Minneapolis, ICE agents shot and killed an ICU nurse.

A few days ago a neighbor said to me, “I have to stop reading the newspaper
some mornings. It wrecks my day.” We talked a little while standing there on the road
by our mailboxes but neither of us had the heart to go into the details. Why speak
about all this anyhow? It hurts to hear these things and stuns the mind. It
bothers our sleep. It churns our stomachs. Sen. Lisa Murkowski reported in
April 2025 that she and other Republicans are afraid to speak out for fear of retaliation and physical threats if they do not toe Trump’s line. Numerous Democratic members of Congress have also reported threats.

It is really tempting just to give in to silence. All that it asks of us is to do nothing.
Shut one’s eyes and walk on by. Maybe someone else will do something. A
troubled parent taking it out on his or her kid. Painful to watch, to hear, even to
hear about from the distance. Most of us want to look away. But should we?
In response to the assassination of conservative activist Charlie Kirk, four New
Hampshire state representatives met in a public forum to explore the causes of
the loss of civility in politics (Covid isolation, cell phones, and social media were
named). They concluded that we have to be willing to “break free of the silos.”
As an example, Rep. Jonah Wheeler cited the current legislature seating arrangement — Republicans on one side of the chamber, Democrats on the other, all of them “stone faced because they already know how they are going to vote.” He noted that “members who sit near the middle where the two parties meet are more prone to asking each other and
discussing how they’re going to vote on controversial bills.” He recommends a
return to mixed seating.

I agree, mixed seating! And we, Republicans and Democrats, should talk to each
other not just in the legislature but on the roads, in the shops, on our phones —
anywhere. Of course, not just about politics, but the silence about politics when
we are in the midst of a political hurricane is odd.

Maybe just ask —how are you feeling about the news? Then take a deep breath
and listen. Perhaps the best we can do at the start is just listen. But just to listen
means you have gotten into the middle between the two silos —if only for a
moment. That is a stimulating place to be. And if you keep asking a few more
people how they feel about the news and listen, you may discover that you get
the hang of it, how to be there alive in the middle, how to gently present your
own view, hoping your partner will join you there in the middle and listen to you
so that both of you can hear and be heard and together work across any lines of
difference. And where there is agreement you can feel some togetherness and
hope. And even where there is not, talking can be a sign of mutual respect as fellow citizens. This, after all, is what democracy is for — talking across the aisles,
working together to find a way through.

We need each other. We are living in a moment of crisis larger than Watergate.
Its dimensions seem nearer to that of the Civil War. And we have front row seats.
In fact, we are mini-actors in it whether we want to be or not. Even silence is an
act.

Anna Meigs lives in Lyndeborough. She is a retired professor of anthropology
who did research in India and Papua New Guinea. She taught at Macalester
College and gave up tenure in order to pursue a career in clinical social work.
While in training at Smith College School of Social work she taught anthropology
courses at Wellesley College and MIT. She has published extensively on the Hua
people of Papua New Guinea.