The drudgery was real. We knew President Joe Biden was vastly superior to the alternative, yet he didn’t make us leap up and cheer, he wasn’t selling merch, and he certainly didn’t inspire memes.
I’ve always been optimistic about America, but before Biden stepped aside and Vice President Kamala Harris stepped up, I felt like I was the odd neighbor yelling from the porch, “Hey! Chin up! The country is actually full of lovely people!” But now that Harris has so thoroughly changed the landscape, optimism has flooded back, and I don’t sound crazy anymore.
Here’s why I have always been able to summon optimism: I’m a comedian, which means I perform everywhere. In the past few months alone, I did shows in Chicago, Illinois; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania; Milwaukee, Wisconsin; Muncie, Indiana; Hazard, Kentucky; Memphis, Tennessee; and Fayetteville, Arkansas. In recent years, I’ve been everywhere from Columbia, South Carolina, to Laramie, Wyoming, to Vermillion, South Dakota. I live in New York City, and I’m from the desert of Southern California. So, Americans? I’ve met a few.
What friends in my liberal bubble always say when they hear about some of these destinations is, “Ugh. That doesn’t sound pleasant.” Some worry about my safety. They act as if there are bigotry greeters at the airport. As if you’re required to wear a MAGA hat to go to the gas station. As if Americans are poised to hate.
But I’m here to report the contrary, folks. Americans are poised to A) be friendly, B) answer questions about how to get somewhere, C) make sure you feel welcome in their town, and D) make restaurant recommendations. They’ll have a chat, they’ll have a sit, they’ll smile. Some of them are curious about where you’re from. I often hear, “Wow, I’ve always wanted to go to New York City.” Or, “I couldn’t possibly live in New York City.” They wonder about my name, why I’m in town, and if I have time to go hiking on their favorite trail.
I have seen places I’d rather not go back to, but mostly, these are towns full of people who love and care for each other. Some have thriving downtowns, while others have seen better days. Some have incredible natural vistas, while others have unforgettable human-made marvels. This is America, after all, and we go big. If we go quaint, we go hard at that, too.
We’ve been told over and over and over (and over again) that we’re divided. We’ve heard it so much that it’s taken as an article of faith. But every time I leave my bubble and walk into someone else’s, I’m reminded that they have children, neighbors, love, laughs, and loss, too. Why did I think my own were any different or more special?
Are we actually divided, or have we just been told we’re divided so many times that we accept it as a default? What if we’re not actually divided?
Obviously, parts of the United States have problems. Yes, some Americans do indulge in bigotry, which is indefensible. But that’s not what I’m talking about here. I’m talking about the overwhelming feeling I get when I travel yonder: that Americans are welcoming and kind.
In Hazard, I remember waiting in line at a coffee shop with a Trump-supporting couple who had a dog that was wearing a vest designed to carry ammo. Anything involving ammunition is definitely not my scene. Nevertheless, we had a quick chat about the lake, the weather, and the doughnuts that were on sale. Hear me when I say: We ALL ordered lattes. If you think lattes are a milky espresso delight enjoyed only by the “coastal elite,” you need to get out more.
My prescription for believing in this country is this: Go see some of it. Talk to its people. You wouldn’t have needed the Kamala frenzy to feel optimistic if you just met more of the Americans who we’re told hate us. I’m not Christian, but I’m a huge fan of the ol’ adage, “Love thy neighbor.” So what are you waiting for? There’s a lot to love.