We didn't enter the building looking for a fight

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I look back at this last political scene; I remember the news reporting. I remember nasty invectives being spat out; violent word pictures spewed like we were all in a prize fight not a challenge to see who would come out on top. And as I look back I also remember other days. Times when I walked into a room that held maybe eight to a dozen strangers, all sitting around on uncomfortable chairs. One would start the twelve step meeting. We would go through the litany of reading from a book, one person would read a passage then pass the book to the person next to them. And at the end if a person wanted to say something, that person did. That person either sat or stood up and let 'er rip. Out would come pain and deep thought and sometimes a funny story. That person was NEVER laughed at, commented on, interrupted or anything else. That person was heard. That person was just that: a person worthy of dignity, worthy of being listened to. That being quietly heard somehow bolstered everybody in the room and we all came out feeling united and better somehow. I also went to writer's meetings. We critiqued each other's works. That means that we participated. We heard and listened. We respected each other. When we gave our opinion it was a thoughtful considerate opinion. NO on meanness. NO on mocking or other juvenile language. Sometimes what was said about my work wasn't always what I wanted to hear but I was given a respectful why and often a how on what the person speaking meant. I am sad that this election business has been sullied by violent juvenile language. I am sad that meanness is apparently becoming the norm. I am sad that role models for the children have been left behind. I hope that some day soon Light will prevail and people will stop and listen to their fellow Americans, one adult to another. One brother and one sister in one cosmopolitan family.