Bridging the Divide

I grew up in a world where fear of nuclear war permeated our lives and routines. I understood that if a full scale nuclear war occurred, life on our planet, particularly human life, would be irrevocably altered. Yet as bleak an image projected by the depth of my fear, the reality of my life painted a completely different picture. My friends and I walked to school on good-weather days. We walked around our neighborhoods blissfully unaware.  In summer, we slept under the stars and dreamed of possibilities.  We played baseball. We ate hamburgers, potato salad and apple pie on the Fourth of July. We lived a simple life, but we lived a dream.

The nightmare was there, but you would never know it. We ran through the drills. As we got older we learned about the consequences. In high school we started discussing the risks. My debate partner and I even crafted an argument as to why nuclear war was good. He found an article that suggested the beautiful colors that all of our brains would experience at the moment of the nuclear concussion would exceed all of the beauty experienced by all humans in all prior art.

Just after high school, while living in Spain I realized that my fears of nuclear war ran deep and that my disdain for the perceived enemy was pervasive. I was standing on the platform in the Madrid Metro station Avenida de America. While waiting for my train to come, on the opposite platform my companion and I saw 12-15 men exit another metro car waiting to connect to a different line. These men were tall, at least six of them were over 6'5". We started wondering what basketball team they played for and hoped that there might be some Americans playing in a national team tournament hosted in Spain. As we looked closer we saw that these were not Americans nor any friends of Americans. These were Russians.

Just moments before I felt excitement, wondering who these players might be and whether any of them might be famous from my own country. Immediately the elation turned to fear and mistrust. I actually felt that if these people learned that we were Americans, our very safety stood in peril. The message of fear ran deep in my heart.

We decry the teachings of hate and we use the madrasa and communist dogma as symbols of brain washing. We stand tall and proclaim superiority based on freedom, opportunity and choice. Now, as dire conflicts confront this world and the leaders of nations calculate their responses, I apologize, because today I have no answer. I know that this world lacks trust. I know that hate abounds. Yet still, I cling to hope.

I have one question and I believe that if we can help our leaders answer this question we can conquer any divide, whether small, as across a metro station, or as broad as today's international conflicts.

What truly unites us?