More than Thanks this Thanksgiving

I remember my busy dad as more of a reader than a TV watcher. He surprised me one night when he came into the family room and asked me to switch the channel to a new TV show called Law and Order. 

He told me it was a new show about police officers and prosecuting attorneys. Half the show was dedicated to the police officers who investigate crime. The second half was about the people who prosecute crimes. With relatives who serve as both police and prosecutors, I was eager to watch.

This particular episode was about a horrific bombing at a church. Children died and I cried. 

I eagerly awaited the second half of the show when the prosecutors (my heroes) would put the villains behind bars. Justice would be served. 

The show ended with the prosecutors not having enough evidence to bring the criminals to trial. Evil was alive and roaming free. And I was devastated. Where was my neat, tidy, happy ending?

I turned to my dad for answers:

How could this be? 

In that moment, I don’t know who was more shocked. Me for my outrage or my dad for raising such a naive daughter. He patiently explained:

That is the life of a prosecutor. Not all crimes are solved. Sometimes, there are no winners. Sometimes, there is only loss.

With my world view changed forever, I could only respond with:

This is an awful show!  

Over time, I grew smarter without growing more cynical. I still cry over loss. I’ve also learned to see beyond the hero and villain game.

This lesson has been on my mind as I watched one of my heroes fall from grace this past month. A person I love, respect and admire has become the villain in my story. His politics and world view are so drastically different from mine. I can’t believe we’re even friends.

In truth, the worst thing I can say about him is he’s turning into a grumpy old man. The greater truth is he isn’t grumpy or old. He is equally passionate about his experience of the world as I am about mine.

The kid and the competitor in me loves my winners and losers. I want to make him wrong and me right. I want him to think like me and be like me. 

The adult in me has the ability to see the bigger picture. 

He is entitled to his opinions and world view – even if they are different from mine.

In the movie The American President, Aaron Sorkin wrote a passage that goes:

America isn't easy. America is advanced citizenship. You've gotta want it bad, 'cause it's gonna put up a fight. It's gonna say, "You want free speech? Let's see you acknowledge a man whose words make your blood boil, who's standing center stage and advocating at the top of his lungs that which you would spend a lifetime opposing at the top of yours."

You want to claim this land as the land of the free? Then the symbol of your country cannot just be a flag. The symbol also has to be one of its citizens exercising his right to burn that flag in protest. Now show me that, defend that, celebrate that in your classrooms. Then you can stand up and sing about the land of the free.

I love my friend, and I am not going to love him less because he disagrees with me. I don’t want to play the hero and villain game if it means sacrificing our freedom and diminishing our ability to love. 

I am not naive. I still cry over loss. And I still love to win. I simply love family, community and country more. 

And, I think my dad would be proud of me.

Thursday is Thanksgiving, and I will be celebrating with people I love. Some of them share my views and some of them don’t. I refuse to love anyone less.

I know how to give more than thanks this Thanksgiving. I know how to love.