Zeke Reich, USA (Photo: Joanna Margueritte)The US is groaning with the pain of the “culture wars”—the battles of politics and religion that have raged between liberal and conservative, Christian and secular, "red" and "blue" since at least the 1960s, if not the 1860s. Both sides have suffered and felt oppressed by the other, and both have in their turn oppressed and caused suffering. Many people who criticize the current administration were outraged by the "treason" of Bush-haters two years ago, and many who were marching in the streets two years ago are now shocked that Obama-haters could be so negative towards a sitting president. The cycles of anger, defensiveness and hatred go back and forth as we lurch from hot-button issue to hot-button issue—and when this reality is confronted, as it rarely is, most commentators find only cause for despair. But I think it's time to come at these matters with a little more humility and a little more hope.

I was born and raised in the heart of New York City in a culture where we pride ourselves on our "liberalism" and "tolerance." The community I consider my own is passionate about rooting out bigotry and contempt directed at people because of their race, ethnicity, gender, or sexuality: not that we always succeed, but we like to think we aim pretty high and correct ourselves when we can. But mention the possibility of showing real open-mindedness toward a Republican, a conservative, or a religious Christian, and many people I know will simply refuse. Cringing a bit, they will say, "But those people hate us! I can't let my guard down for a moment!" And what many have called "the last acceptable form of bigotry among liberals" will stay in place indefinitely.

If we want to stack up faults and see who has been wounded more we will never stop. Hippies spit on veterans and anti-abortion protestors spit on pro-choice advocates. The question is whether we can—whether I can—leave to one side the comparative weighing of past injury and look more clearly at the human beings sitting across the aisle. Can I, personally, find a place in me that can listen to the valid perspectives of the other side? Can I see the passions of the Tea Party movement as passions that I myself possess, taken unfamiliar form? And deeper: can I go beyond trying to understand others to get at the heart of the pain we have caused each other? Can I work to forgive people who seem to despise my president, hate my city and dismiss my way of life?

Beyond even the difficulties of understanding and forgiving, I find the deepest challenge of all to be acknowledging my own role in continuing the pattern of mutual distrust. When have I slipped into bashing a noxious television commentator or dismissed out of hand the political rallies I disagree with? When have I failed to speak out against my liberal community’s contempt for conservatives? And as I begin the slow work of identifying the multitude of unthinking contributions I make to intolerance, recognizing how I am caught up in the same cycles of fear and aggression as my compatriots on both sides, I have to ask myself the question: how can I begin to make amends for my role in the endless American culture wars?

NOTE: Individuals of many cultures, nationalities, religions, and beliefs are actively involved with Initiatives of Change. These commentaries represent the views of the writer and not necessarily those of Initiatives of Change as a whole.