Thursday, August 21, 2025

On Multiplying Life

 


Last night we went to hear The Indigo Girls and Melissa Etheridge in concert.  We’ve been to Indigo Girls concerts before, though this was a first for Etheridge.  She had the artistic misfortune of gaining popularity at a time when my attention to the radio was distracted by earning a living and raising kids.  I recognized her hits, but the others were new to me.  Not to others in the audience.  They were genuine and voluble fans.  They knew the lyrics, and sang them lustily.  They were strangers to neither the music nor the musicians.


Let’s just get this out there for the uninitiated.  These are three rather iconic lesbian performers.  They have been at it a long time, writing honestly, passionately, personally.  They know their chops.  We happen to like their music. Their sexuality is their business.  On those previous concert occasions, that’s what it felt like:  going to a concert.  Last night it felt...different.  It felt daring.  It felt countercultural.  Frankly, it felt risky - for us and the others in the audience, but also for the performers.  This is no longer safe territory.


This is a weird time in our culture.  Since Hamas took over Iowa politics, it’s not safe to be outside the normative straight-jacket - of foreign origin, non-Christian, non-white, non-traditional, gender ambiguous, gay.  Plenty are leaving the state out of safety concerns.  Many are reinforcing their roots, hoping for the best.  Relying on the security of their relationships.  Hoping for a change in the direction of the political winds.  And to be clear, this isn’t about Democrats vs. Republicans.  Iowa has long tilted toward the pink side of the ideological spectrum.  But this blood red is different.  We used to be a rational state, open to wisdom and responsible ideas from whatever direction they may come.  Common sense prevailed.  We could talk.  We had legitimate debates.  We made room for creative expression and innovative ideas.  What flag you were flying was rarely the focus of discussion.  We were neighbors, interested in shared concerns - quality education, local communities, neighborliness.  


Now we ban, suppress, repress, and regress.  Now the state tells towns what they can and can’t do; schools what they can and can’t mention, let alone teach. In a kind of pietistic gavage, the populace is force-fed a Jesus-free version of Christianity, producing a toxic ideological foie gras. Meanwhile, the real issues - like the highest cancer rate in the country and rising; like concerning water quality; like climate change and the intensification and increasing frequency of severe storms; like public health and well-being are all off the table.  They are “woke” or “anti-American” or simply inconvenient.  


I don’t have the answers, but there are still citizens around who haven’t fled the state, who grew up here when Iowa still led the nation in educational excellence.  They are bright and grounded and intellectually prepared to engage these thorny issues.  But the questions aren’t permitted.  The conversation is squelched.  Municipalities are constrained by state mandates. Libraries and schools are muzzled by censoring prohibitions.  Our primary workforce is rounded up, caged, and deported.  Our guard units are sent off as political pawns.  Meanwhile, our public beaches are closed by contamination, and our “water cooler conversations” are choked into silence.  


And it feels strangely unsafe to go to a rock concert downtown.


It is a deeply troubling time.  


Meanwhile, these dangerous, insurrectionist women sang of care and mutual support.


Smarter than the tricks played on your heart

We'll look at them together then we'll take 'em apart

Adding up the total of a love that's true

Multiply life by the power of two.


Multiplying life by the power of mutual support, rather than rhetorical annihilation.


Radical.  I might even say, “Christian.”  I might even say “American” and “Iowan.”  

 

At least I would have a few years ago.