Today, free speech is under threat in our universities, libraries, and public schools. The Peoples’ Union has unwavering support for the First Amendment and rejects censorship, except when speech incites violence. Founder Ray Gross writes, “Being a writer hailing from Generation X, I vividly recall the influential figures of my youth—Sinead O’Connor, Public Enemy, and the trailblazing rappers of NWA—unapologetically standing up for free speech. These artists ignited a fire within us—they remind us that the world cannot always cater to our ideologies; such thinking would be hubris and unrealistic.” Cancel culture is one threat to free speech.
Cancel Culture
One form of censorship in today’s society is the cancel culture movement, and it has gone too far. While it may seem reasonable to hold individuals accountable for heinous acts like those committed by Harvey Weinstein, or those convicted of serious crimes, it is important to acknowledge that not every instance of “canceling” is justified. We must be cautious to not hastily cast aside individuals who are merely fallible human beings, prone to making mistakes both big and small, as we all do at some point in our lives.
There are several compelling reasons why we should approach cancel culture with caution. First, it is a fact that nobody is perfect. Each of us has, at some point, succumbed to temptation—whether it be lying, cheating, stealing, or worse. However, it would be unjust to discard the entirety of a person’s being due to one misstep or comment. We should not throw out the baby with the bathwater, but instead strive to foster understanding, growth, and redemption.
In our quest for justice and accountability, we can turn to the insights of Jungian psychology. According to this perspective, every human being possesses a shadow side—a darker aspect of their personality. It is through the recognition and integration of this shadow that we become whole individuals. While this shadow side may occasionally manifest in unappealing, offensive, or unlikable behavior, it is an inherent part of our complex nature. Thus, it is essential to exercise empathy and discernment when passing judgment, allowing room for personal growth and transformation.
You may recall that, during President Obama’s presidential campaign, there was an incident regarding the candidate’s affiliation with Reverend Wright in Chicago—who had made disparaging comments about the USA and the events of 9/11. In that moment, Obama confronted the issue head-on, addressing it with poise, sincerity, and a commitment to open dialogue. However, one cannot help but wonder how such a situation would unfold in today’s climate of cancel culture. It is uncertain whether Obama would even have had the opportunity to address the issue before facing immediate cancellation.
One particular speech delivered by Obama during that time resonates deeply with The Peoples’ Union. Titled “A More Perfect Union,” it was delivered in 2008 on the campaign trail in Philadelphia. In this powerful address, Obama fearlessly confronted issues such as racism, inequities, and the deep-seated tensions between different racial groups in the United States. His words were marked by eloquence, experience, and a relentless pursuit of truth. The speech served as a reminder of the pressing need to address societal challenges with compassion, understanding, and a commitment to forging a better future. Here is an excerpt:
We’ve heard my former pastor, Reverend Jeremiah Wright, use incendiary language to express views that have the potential not only to widen the racial divide, but views that denigrate both the greatness and the goodness of our nation; that rightly offend white and black alike. I have already condemned, in unequivocal terms, the statements of Reverend Wright that have caused such controversy. For some, nagging questions remain. Did I know him to be an occasionally fierce critic of American domestic and foreign policy? Of course. Did I ever hear him make remarks that could be considered controversial while I sat in church? Yes. Did I strongly disagree with many of his political views? Absolutely—just as I’m sure many of you have heard remarks from your pastors, priests, or rabbis with which you strongly disagreed.
But the remarks that have caused this recent firestorm weren’t simply controversial. They weren’t simply a religious leader’s effort to speak out against perceived injustice. Instead, they expressed a profoundly distorted view of this country—a view that sees white racism as endemic, and that elevates what is wrong with America above all that we know is right with America; a view that sees the conflicts in the Middle East as rooted primarily in the actions of stalwart allies like Israel, instead of emanating from the perverse and hateful ideologies of radical Islam.
As such, Reverend Wright’s comments were not only wrong but divisive, divisive at a time when we need unity; racially charged at a time when we need to come together to solve a set of monumental problems—two wars, a terrorist threat, a falling economy, a chronic health care crisis and potentially devastating climate change; problems that are neither black or white or Latino or Asian, but rather problems that confront us all.
Given my background, my politics, and my professed values and ideals, there will no doubt be those for whom my statements of condemnation are not enough. Why associate myself with Reverend Wright in the first place, they may ask? Why not join another church? And I confess that if all that I knew of Reverend Wright were the snippets of those sermons that have run in an endless loop on the television and YouTube, or if Trinity United Church of Christ conformed to the caricatures being peddled by some commentators, there is no doubt that I would react in much the same way.
But the truth is, that isn’t all that I know of the man. The man I met more than twenty years ago is a man who helped introduce me to my Christian faith, a man who spoke to me about our obligations to love one another; to care for the sick and lift up the poor. He is a man who served his country as a U.S. Marine; who has studied and lectured at some of the finest universities and seminaries in the country, and who for over thirty years led a church that serves the community by doing God’s work here on Earth—by housing the homeless, ministering to the needy, providing day care services and scholarships and prison ministries, and reaching out to those suffering from HIV/AIDS.
In my first book, Dreams From My Father, I described the experience of my first service at Trinity:
“People began to shout, to rise from their seats and clap and cry out, a forceful wind carrying the reverend’s voice up into the rafters….And in that single note—hope!—I heard something else; at the foot of that cross, inside the thousands of churches across the city, I imagined the stories of ordinary black people merging with the stories of David and Goliath, Moses and Pharaoh, the Christians in the lion’s den, Ezekiel’s field of dry bones. Those stories—of survival, and freedom, and hope—became our story, my story; the blood that had spilled was our blood, the tears our tears; until this black church, on this bright day, seemed once more a vessel carrying the story of a people into future generations and into a larger world. Our trials and triumphs became at once unique and universal, black and more than black; in chronicling our journey, the stories and songs gave us a means to reclaim memories that we didn’t need to feel shame about…memories that all people might study and cherish—and with which we could start to rebuild.”
That has been my experience at Trinity. Like other predominantly black churches across the country, Trinity embodies the black community in its entirety—the doctor and the welfare mom, the model student and the former gang-banger. Like other black churches, Trinity’s services are full of raucous laughter and sometimes bawdy humor. They are full of dancing, clapping, screaming and shouting that may seem jarring to the untrained ear. The church contains in full the kindness and cruelty, the fierce intelligence and the shocking ignorance, the struggles and successes, the love and yes, the bitterness and bias that make up the black experience in America.
And this helps explain, perhaps, my relationship with Reverend Wright. As imperfect as he may be, he has been like family to me. He strengthened my faith, officiated my wedding, and baptized my children. Not once in my conversations with him have I heard him talk about any ethnic group in derogatory terms, or treat whites with whom he interacted with anything but courtesy and respect. He contains within him the contradictions—the good and the bad—of the community that he has served diligently for so many years.
I can no more disown him than I can disown the black community. I can no more disown him than I can my white grandmother—a woman who helped raise me, a woman who sacrificed again and again for me, a woman who loves me as much as she loves anything in this world, but a woman who once confessed her fear of black men who passed by her on the street, and who on more than one occasion has uttered racial or ethnic stereotypes that made me cringe.Barack Obama’s speech on race “More Perfect Union,” March 18, 2008 (NPR, 2008)
These people are a part of me. And they are a part of America, this country that I love. Some will see this as an attempt to justify or excuse comments that are simply inexcusable. I can assure you it is not. I suppose the politically safe thing would be to move on from this episode and just hope that it fades into the woodwork.
Alan Watts, in one of his captivating lectures, shares an intriguing concept attributed to Confucius. It goes, “The goodie goodies are the thieves of virtue.” This saying suggests that striving for absolute righteousness can push us beyond our human nature, making us something other than human. It reminds me of the proverb, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” Watts eloquently captures this sentiment in his famous quote, “Kindly let me help you or you will drown—said the monkey putting the fish safely up a tree.”
If these ideas don’t resonate with you, I implore you to embark on a deep introspection—ask yourself which part of you tends to cancel others. Is it your shadow, or is it the forgiving light that resides within each of us? It is that same light, sitting alongside our own darkness, that will eventually seek forgiveness from ourselves and others.
Our country finds itself in a state of profound division, but the path to unity is not found in ignoring one another or dismissing individuals as mere cranks, as Obama could have done with Reverend Wright. Now, more than ever, it is crucial to engage in dialogue with those we vehemently disagree with. We must recognize that they, too, love their pets just as we do, cherish their children just as we do, and enjoy sports like football, hockey, or baseball, just as we do.
If there is one thing we must not do, it is accusing others of violence simply because they hold differing opinions. It is impossible to ignore the troubling reality that people are spreading hate and ignorance, voicing opinions on matters they know nothing about, solely driven by blind emotion or the prevailing consensus of the mob.
