Someone I recruited to the debate team at college wrote this guest post.
“”Viruses aren’t partisan. But there’s a reason this one feels like it is.
“Death rates in Democratic areas are triple those in Republican ones.” In general, more rural, conservative counties are losing livelihoods and more urban, progressive counties are losing lives. And so this virus emphasizes a dark reality: we don’t share realities.
The word “compassion” means to “suffer with.” To have compassion for someone means to try to put yourself in their shoes—to attempt to understand, to care, and to seek their good.
It’s hard enough to love strangers in your physical neighborhood. And so it’s extraordinarily difficult, if not impossible, to actually love people you’ll never meet. But we need to not only reach across political aisles, but also across county and state lines.
Our thoughts and actions must be led by compassion.”
It struck me as I live on the border of Austin and country, in a little town called Georgetown, TX. My Austin friends are hunkered down sharing doomsday stuff, because they all have friends with coronavirus. My Georgetown friends and I are playing in the rivers, going fishing together, and generally alright. Maybe it’s not that city people are whiners?