Making the case for public displays of affection
Hello you surrey with a fringe on top.
Well... a lot has happened in the past two weeks... as well as the past 24 hours... how are you doing? While I am as thrilled as everyone else that the desperate cheeto is on his way out, maybe we could start off with a moment to breathe and sit quietly for a minute with all that is happening right now? Or perhaps you need a little bit of US election silliness to purge the remaining pent up stress and anxiety you are undoubtedly holding. It's been a lot.
As we have been talking about these past several months, the pandemic's unique mix of existential dread, focused intimacy, day-to-day monotony, massive social upheaval and needing to live so much of one's life online has turned these moments of collective attention-- such as the train wreck of the US election-- into especially highly-charged emotional experiences for many people. And honestly, I am kind of glad for the collective emotional engagement that is happening. Because there is a social impact to emotions, and as I want to explore this week, I think we need to find more places and spaces for being a genuine human being in public life.
Now you will turn to me and rightfully say: "Amy, look at what twitter has done to the state of social discourse! People emoting publicly online is deeply toxic!" And yes, I would agree with you. The tone and tenor of online commentary and interaction in many spaces has become highly problematic. And the anonymity and lack of 'real' human connection can enable people to interact with each other in ways that often lacks nuance and respect.
But-- and stay with me for a minute-- what might change if we started recognizing love more explicitly in public life?
I know, I know. I said stay with me... :)
I have been digging into Canadian Indigenous jurist and scholar John Borrows' work lately for a class I am taking on law and religion, and I find some of his work around love, the law and public life so resonant with this moment we are living right now-- especially with the Democratic win in the US and the need for a massive shift in the quality and content of public discourse. So like a good little platypus, I thought I would share a bit about Borrows' work, since it also dovetails with some of the things we have been exploring in these dispatches.
His 2016 speech to inaugurate the Canadian Museum of Human Rights in particular has given me pause (which you can listen to here, and I would HIGHLY recommend checking it out) -- both for his ability to give voice to what some would consider the "dangerous" position of naming love as a public good, and for the way he dismantles and retells the stories we typically tell ourselves and each other about love.
While I have not always been able to articulate it well-- or sometimes not even aware of the overlap I was seeking-- this connection between love and public life is not totally foreign to me. I am sure I would not have named it as such at the time, but I do think this was one of the motivations for going to law school in the first place those many years ago. Of course I didn't find a ton of (or any) explicit mention of love in the (dominant Western version of) law, but as Borrows would argue, love is there in spades. Because ultimately our social and political world is built by humans. And we are the world's purveyors of love.
But hold on a second! What are we even talking about when we say love? Honestly, it's not a super satisfying answer but I think love means something a little bit similar and a little bit different for each person. It is a very personal and intimate concept, and yet its ripples are felt across the arc of human history. And as Borrows says, the reality is that ambiguity is a normal part of navigating rights and values in the public sphere. Instead of static definitions, our understanding of our core rights and values are meant to grow, evolve and help direct and orient our navigation of the world-- and insodoing they can elevate our expectations and public demand for a better world.
In the personal sphere, love is a familiar ideal and practice in daily life-- whether we are talking about familial love, friendship, romantic love, self-love-- or even loving one's nephew puppy (however in my case I worry that the pet thing is more of an obsession). As we move outwards, we also experience love as a key part of most spiritual and religious practices, and as a theme woven throughout most collective experiences of life—art, education, culture, relationships. Indeed it is often the basis on which we reach out and work with others. Love is often a motivating force for people as they choose their career or path in life-- not just in 'caring' professions, but also as bureaucrats, welders, teachers, servers, judges, mothers, accountants, etc... The love that motivates us to choose our path in life is brought through into our professional interactions, and influences both what we do in life and how we do it.
And so I want to start explicitly naming love as something that shapes our world.
I understand some of the risks of naming love within the law and public sphere (as coercive, ambiguous, infantilizing or cheapening of the concept of love itself) but like Borrows, I trust that “the weight of our objections can stand while also acknowledging the value of love’s place in the public dimension.” The value of incorporating love into our experience of each other in the public sphere is worth the vigilance and work we all must do to ensure it is a value that is wielded respectfully and equitably. Inspired by Borrows, I want to start talking explicitly about love in public discourse, and try to bring more reflection about how our laws, social structures and public institutions can "allow us to develop deeper feelings and mutual aid... to appreciate and safeguard our world. Love is a part of our vocabularies. Reciprocity and gift-giving economies are required to address poverty and repair peoples’ alienation from the earth. This interdependence must emphasize intergenerational justice and inter-personal equity.” And I am interested in taking up this challenge to bring love into my public life in small ways. Starting with my words.
Love is. This is not a typo—it is a declaration. A modest one, with many caveats. But also an honest one. I believe that humans are built to love (however imperfectly), and we each have a role to play in using that capacity to help shape how our world looks. During this period of time when so much is hinging on the actions of individuals to save themselves and the world around them-- whether voting in the US election, wearing a mask in a global pandemic or finding new ways to connect with each other when physical connection is not possible-- I wanted to take a minute or two this week to appreciate the capacity for love in each of us, and to trust that as we exercise that individual and collective capacity, the long arc of history will continue to bend towards justice. Angela Davis has said:
“You have to act as if it were possible to radically transform the world. And you have to do it all the time.”
As the US election has just shown us, change is possible-- nay, inevitable in many ways. As a COVID vaccine looms and we look towards what a more sustainable and equitable future can look like for everyone, I am inspired to start thinking more directly about the role that love can play in "radically transforming the world." However things unfold, this feels like a good place to start.
But wait! Perhaps all of this talk of public love is feeling a bit too intense on a sunny Sunday morning? Well then check out this inspiring list of people doing cool, innovative and caring work in the US. The future feels a little bit brighter.
Still too much realness? Then please enjoy this amazing twitter thread with pictures reminding us that a corgi crossed with any other breed of dog just ends up looking like a corgi disguised as the other dog. Be still, my heart....
From one public-facing person to another, I am glad that we can think about love together. I hope you enjoyed this dispatch, and have an inspiration-filled week!
Until next-next Sunday,
The Earnest Platypus