Back when I was in high school, I thought it would be funny to show up for the homecoming celebrations while wearing the jersey of the visiting team. This is the kind of reckless social experiment that most people can't even imagine. I mean, who does that?
I've always had an issue with conformity, and as a teen I harbored skepticism over the concept of "school spirit." We'd already been subjected to announcement after announcement encouraging us to dress in the red and black colors of our football team.
Classes were canceled so we could go to the gym to scream and bang on drums. Girls danced around in uniforms that otherwise would have been a violation of the dress code.
During homecoming week, the normally rigid rural values of quiet obedience and chastity were suspended in order to fan the flames of fierce tribalistic loyalty.
We were encouraged to despise the team from the town just twenty minutes away. Our town was better. That was all that mattered.
Kids I knew who absolutely hated school were caught up in the spell. It was odd to see them stand in the bleachers, howling the school song until their faces turned red. I found it disquieting, like we were all being forced to participate in a lie.
"What? Would you rather be in class?" one of them said.
A few of my friends saw I was wearing a blue and yellow Warriors jersey and doubled over in hysterical laughter. I stood out in the sea of red and black. But the hostility directed at me began to steadily increase.
After a while, even the faces of those who had initially appreciated the joke began to harden. Anonymous bodies started bumping into me, then came the shoves. I became afraid.
Fortunately, I'd had the foresight to wear a shirt under the jersey. I picked my moment, and when the scrutiny became too intense to bear, I pulled off the jersey, threw it to the ground, and stomped on it. The whole student body erupted into cheers.
I felt my own sense of identity get swept away by the enthusiasm of my classmates. I cheered too. The community celebration designed to make us see our neighbors as "other" was intoxicating. It sickened me to realize that I was as vulnerable to this influence as anyone else.
Every year, all across America, moments like these are scheduled, organized, and executed in public schools. Under the justification of tradition, hatred for our neighbors is injected into the beating hearts of our communities. Then, in the aftermath of tragedy, we act as if we're oblivious as to where the anger comes from.
The answer is obvious. Hatred is a by-product of our national identity.
Does it have to be?
Basketball practice
I started reflecting on the topic of identity at my daughter's basketball practice.
Our community has three different schools, and so the girls on the basketball team naturally form into groups that come from the same school. There are three "tribes." My daughter's tribe is the smallest.
Right away, you might see the potential for problems, particularly if you grew up in a rural area where cultivating a sense of violent tribalism is a revered tradition.
But in the very first minute of the very first practice, the coach said, "I know that you are all from different schools, but it's important to remember that we're all on the same team. Naturally, you're going to have stronger relationships with some of your teammates. I've been on a lot of teams and that's always the case. But we must always remember that we are a team. We play together and we succeed together."
Everybody knows this. We say things like, "Divided we fall" or "Divide and conquer."
Only chaos is served when you submit to hatred of "the other," yet we do it all the time.
These things are bad for us, why are they so hard to give up?
Overcoming tribalism
Even though I resisted the conditioning as a youth, it still taints my thinking. My mental muscle memory makes tribalism a default reaction. Unless I make a deliberate effort to override the impulse, my first response to adversity is to seek out a patsy to saddle with the blame.
"The other" is at fault.
"The other" is not like us.
Everything would be fine and perfect and wonderful if not for "the other."
Indulging in these thoughts leads to a guaranteed loss every single time.
Escaping the gravity of a large family
In addition to the "tribe" of the rural school, I also had to contend with the "tribe" of my father's extended family. In rural areas, your cousins are your first friends. In some ways it's made clear that they're your only "acceptable" friends.
Anyone who is not a member of the family is "other," and they're not to be trusted.
For most of my life, I felt my school system had failed me. While that was true, I was reluctant to recognize the extent to which my extended family had failed me as well. I was trained to never go against the "tribe," and I remained reluctant to recognize the extent of their destructive behaviors even years after I'd cut them out of my life.
Loyalty to a tribe can make you blind.
Patriotism, religion, political affiliation
When you pause to reflect, it's scary how much of your free will is surrendered out of a deeply rooted belief that you must demonstrate loyalty to some entitled group.
This is why most people never even think to wear the jersey of the opposing team to homecoming. Most people can't even formulate that thought. The needle skips in their mind. It's such a simple act of comical defiance but it's something most people never even consider.
It's scary to think that your thoughts can be controlled to such an extent.
Now consider how many other philosophical concepts this automatic self-censorship might obscure. You deny yourself avenues that can lead to understanding. There's a socially installed parking break that derails you from pursuing the natural creative process. You only have access to a truncated version of what you could be.
Misplaced loyalty holds you back.
What profit is there in division?
All the people of the world should be your tribe. You don't have the wisdom, judgment, or authority to find fault with anyone but yourself, perhaps not even yourself.
You have the right to leave your home town, your friends, your family, your religion, your political party, and even your nation behind if any of those entities tries to pressure you into betraying your obligation to your fellow human beings.
The weakness of those who are caught up in tribalistic thinking is that they often can't recognize that leaving is even an option.
If my home town doesn't treat me with dignity, I can leave my home town.
If my friends don't treat me with dignity, I can leave my friends.
If my family doesn't treat me with dignity, I can leave my family.
If my religion doesn't treat me with dignity, I can leave my religion.
If my political party doesn't treat me with dignity, I can leave my political party.
If my nation doesn't treat me with dignity, I can leave my nation.
In the United States, we're trained to have blind loyalty to people, institutions and ideologies that cause us immeasurable harm.
The only tribe that's absolute is the whole human race. All the other tribes are illusions, and many of them are leveraged to deceive.
Remind yourself that you can always choose to leave hate behind, especially hate disguised as conditional love.