His name is Derwin. Derwin Norwood. If I had heroes in my life, Mr. Norwood might be one of them.
Maybe.
But I don’t have heroes; instead, exemplars—those among us who live lives that could serve as examples for the rest of us of how to live a life in harmony with the universal values and principles of peace, kindness, compassion, forgiveness, gratefulness, and love (we can’t argue those, can we?). Calling them exemplars, instead of the more exalted “heroes,” allows them to have and keep their own imperfections as humans—in many cases, it is because of their imperfections that raise them in my esteem as exemplars.
I considered sharing a list of my exemplars here but cut that paragraph out. Instead, call to mind the exemplars you would attach to kindness, compassion, forgiveness…love. THAT’s more important right now.
Come November 6, we’re gonna need a whole lot of examples of how to move forward, together. We need to find them now; and/or become them ourselves for those we love and for those whom we find hard to love.
So maybe Derwin Norwood can be an exemplar.
Maybe.
Before I go further, an acknowledgment: The politics of today are a poisonous, polarizing mess. It doesn’t have to be this way—but it is. Some people have made choices that have created what we’re all having to face, and they are the wrong choices. I typically do not write explicitly on politics but as time goes on in this highly-charged election year, politics is becoming an overwhelmingly large, and highly visible elephant (and donkey—see what I did there?) in the room. The room that is the good ol’ U.S. of A. Eventually, everything else will be secondary to the all-encompassing dominance of politics in American life. And we need to grapple with this—not in the Fall, not in six months, or next month, or in a couple weeks, or even tomorrow. If we haven’t already started, we need to be grappling with this right now.
And then after the election, held on November 5th this year, the sun will rise, presumably, on November 6th. And we’ll be faced with having to live with each other all over again. My concern is how we’ll remember that there are too many other things that are more important than politics—things that bind us together as opposed to rip us apart. THAT’s what we need to start thinking and talking about now.
Who will we choose to be on November 6, 2024? And then each day after?
We’re Stuck
As a nation, we really are stuck. The “stuckiness” we find ourselves in is called tribalism—an entrenched belief that only those who think like me are right and are the only ones I’ll associate with…because we’re right, right? Everyone knows we’re right! THESE people are my peeps—because they think like me! They’re my Tribe (with a capital T). Those not in my Tribe are wrong even when facts prove otherwise. Everyone knows this!
Tribalism feeds off of circular thinking (not everyone knows that).
I think often of how I place myself in this politically-charged environment. I think often of how we’ll come OUT of this politically-charged environment. I worry that we won’t. I worry that I have no idea what that would even look like if we don’t. I get stuck. And so I fall back into my own tribe.
I think every citizen needs to grapple with this as the very serious matter it is—and then vote come November. And once the vote is done, abide by the law of this land and accept the outcome of what will be proven to be a fair and accurate election. Then continue to work like hell to bring about a better world—starting all over again, on November 6.
“We the People of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union….”
I need to find a new tribe—comprised of morally courageous individuals who know the way out of being stuck; who are committed to the endless striving toward “a more perfect union.” Who might prove to be exemplars of how to be together on November 6, and then each day following. Who might become heroes of mine if I choose to have heroes.
Enter Derwin Norwood.
To know Derwin Norwood, you first need to know Judd Blevins. To know how these two men are connected is to know irony. And courage, maybe.
Enid, Oklahoma
I’ve never been to Enid. I have no real pull to visit Oklahoma—unless it would be to walk the ending portion of the Trail of Tears. Unless it would now be to shake the hand of Commissioner Norwood—who’d likely push my hand aside in order to give me a hug. I would hope for the hug—I would hope to be worthy of his hug.
I would want Comissioner Norwood to also be worthy of mine.
In February 2023, Enid, a nondescript town of about 50,000 people (who vote overwhelmingly Republican—it is Oklahoma afterall), held an election for their Board of Commissioners. Judd Blevins won his race for Commissioner by 36 votes (out of the 808 votes cast in his Ward—yep, voting matters!). Due to the dogged efforts of a couple of social justice advocates, Blevins was later exposed as a man with strong ties to various white supremacist and christian nationalist groups who even carried a torch at the now infamous Charlottesville white supremacy rallies. And he’s consistently lied about his involvement.
I would not be a friend with Judd Blevins. He and I would likely be stuck even though I will go to my grave believing, to my core, that I am on the right side of history when it comes to the issues in which he and I find ourselves stuck together. I’ve never met Judd Blevins. I have no desire to.
Earlier this April, Blevins was recalled by Ward 1 in Enid, Oklahoma. He is (rightfully) no longer a Commissioner. Prior to the special recall election, the entire Council of Commissioners held a vote themselves to censure Blevins for his past beliefs and current falsehoods and his failure to take responsibility for his actions.
Enter Derwin Norwood again.
Norwood, if you didn’t notice, is a person of color. He is also a self-described moderate Republican. The censure vote among the Commissioners was put on pause because of something Norwood did.
[Norwood] made an impassioned plea at the end of the meeting, scolding the community for fighting rather than forgiving. Norwood, who sits next to Blevins at the council meetings, then asked him to stand up, told him he loved him and then gave him a hug.
(~ Anthony Kilough and Ed Lavandera reporting; CNN. April 3, 2024.)
[In case you missed it again, Norwood is a black man; Blevins is an avowed white supremacist. Told you there was irony here.]
Now, the cynic and skeptic in me pushes me to question Norwood’s motivations—he is a Republican, afterall, in the year 2024–the era of MAGA. I’m sad I’m pushed there. It is at times like these where I truly HATE that our political discourse has us in this place—because if Norwood’s motivations are pure, are apolitical, and that they come from a place of true forgiveness and love, then we should NEVER question a person’s motivation to embrace another. Let alone forgive them. Not so surprisingly, the activists and justice advocates, those intending to recall Blevins, were PISSED at Norwood for this act of forgiveness. I’ll admit, were I in that room, at that moment, I too, may have been pissed (no, likely would have been pissed—I have little doubt about that). To have justice delayed is not justice served. But entrenched tribalism can occur on any side, with any team, against any foe, at any time (fascinating, it can be, this study of moral absolutism v. relativism). But along with my self-righteous indignation, I hope I’d be discombobulated, confused, and better enlightened. If not ashamed. I hope I’d be uneased by such an explicit show of compassion in the face of my own absolutism, because ultimately I do know I don’t live in a black and white world—I, we, live in shades of grey. Everything is a shade of grey even when I want to believe my own view and beliefs are the better form of greyed-in rightness.
A quick aside that deserves its own essay: Evil does exist in this world. Evil must be confronted at all costs, and defeated. I am convinced the world WOULD be a different and better place had a so-called billionaire never descended a golden escalator in an unremarkable, high-rise Manhattan skyscraper that is named after him (at least for now) on June 16, 2015. Of that I have no doubt. None. Zero.
If this negates all of what’s to follow for you as a reader, then so be it. I would only ask you prove to me where I’m wrong.
I want desperately to believe Norwood’s motivations are pure—because I think his act of forgiveness is perhaps the ONLY way we’ll get ourselves out of the ugliness of this “stuckness” we find ourselves in. Because, here’s what I wonder…
I wonder what effect Norwood’s act of forgiveness had on Blevins. I want to believe this unexpected act of compassion and forgiveness, from a Black man no less, taught Blevins a different way of being in the world. That his form of past hatred has no place in our world—ever. That Norwood gave him a gift of “a different way to be.”
Such stories of redemption do exist—when, through a courageous and public act of forgiveness, a person does come to a new understanding of how all forms of hatred, ultimately, only hurt the owner of the hatred in the long run; that hatred is based on fear and ignorance—and that love is the only way through and out.
Now…
I ask myself: “could I do that?” Knowing hatred is never resolved by hatred; that the only way out is through forgiveness, would I have the moral courage to do what Norwood did?
I want Derwin Norwood to be an exemplar. I want him to be counted as one of my newest heroes. I don’t want to learn later that Norwood did it only because Blevins is a part of a larger tribe of Republican “who must win at all costs this November.” If Norwood proves to not reach this remarkably high bar of moral excellence, than at least I’ll choose to believe in the idea of Norwood. I think I’m choosing to trust and believe Norwood when he says:
“I realized that in forgiving him, I freed myself from becoming what he was or still may be. I had to free myself.”
That’s what true forgiveness is. Forgiveness is not meekness or impotence or gullibility or acquiescence or weakness or trite. Forgiveness does not absolve a perpetrator of their responsibility to take responsibility and be held to account. Forgiveness is tough, and demanding. Forgiveness sets an exceptionally high bar of moral conduct that is not always easy to reach. Forgiveness is never ultimately for the perpetrator of bad actions; like Norwood stated, it is more so that the victim frees him/herself from the not-so-facetious shackles of hatred the perpetrator is trying to place upon them. Because if the victim turns to hatred as a way through, the perpetrator wins. Norwood didn’t approve of Blevins actions, or his past (or maybe even his still-held) beliefs. Justice must still, and will, prevail. The highest form of Justice, with the highest forms of moral underpinnings, may be to prosecute to the fullest the actions of an individual while at the same time finding pathways toward forgiveness that allows for the healing of wounds so that life can proceed with lessons learned. Maybe this is what is meant by allowing the “better angels of our nature” to guide our way of being.
There is an endlessly fascinating historical context to this, on an even grander scale, with how South Africa intended to heal the wounds and scars of apartheid through the processes established by their Truth and Reconcilation Commission—led at the time of its inception by the Archbiship Desmond Tutu (HE I call a hero!).
Norwood forgave Blevins by sharing that his love is larger and greater than Blevins’ hate. I sincerely wonder how this impacted Blevins—we’d only know through his future actions. True forgiveness is among the hardest things a human can do in the face of deep harm, or trauma, or abuse, or bigotry, or criminality, or racism, or tribalism—synonyms, all, for hatred. Alchemy, if one chooses to be an alchemist in the living of a life, includes it all—the good, the bad; those who believe like I do, those who don’t; those who are guided by love, and even those who use hate as a tool of separation because if humans are a part of the chemical reaction, there is going to be hatred. There doesn’t have to be hatred, but history shows again and again many just haven’t learned otherwise. So, as an alchemist, my purpose is to try to turn that hatred into something different; if not better, at least less hurtful.
If Blevins sat next to me at any meeting, heck, if D.J. Trump himself sat next to me anywhere, anytime (never gonna happen), I would want the better angels of my nature to help me stand (I would need their help!) to offer my own forgiveness. To be clear, I approve of NOTHING either of those men did and are still currently doing. In fact, I HATE everything they say they stand for and will forever stand in loud opposition to their beliefs and policies. I will vote against them each and every time. FOREVER.
And at the same time, I hope I’d have the moral courage to forgive both, and anyone else who believes they are members of that tribe—that tribe of hatred. I’d do it not for them. I’d want to do it for us. As our only way through to a new way of being with each other that no longer sows the seeds of hatred. I’d do it because it never has to be THAT way. WE don’t ever have to be that way; aka this way—this current way of stuckness.
I’d do it for me.
Selfish of me, I know.
What Norwood ultimately did was not demand that someone else change in order to appease him. Rather, he did something himself that he had to dig deep within to do: he changed his own behavior in favor of forgiveness and compassion.
November 6 is less than 7 months away. How will we choose to be?
Have YOU chosen yet?
Always and Ubuntu,
~ k
And with Ahimsa!
🙏🏼
PS: If you have a different way through the stuckness that is our current predicament, I’d love to hear it. But, I’ll warn you now, if you want me to follow you, your way better be based in love—and your actions will need to speak louder than your words.
Oh, BTW, pardons and immunity are not forgiveness. Don’t even go there.
Cherie, the only thing I can say is...”Wow.” I am filled with gratitude that you went to such a place and then choose to write such an affirming response. YES, we are of the same tribe--and let us never stop trying to include everyone in it. THAT’s our calling, right? Honestly, I’m blown away by your generosity through language. I’m not out to “get subscribers” in this space. And I’ve committed to never turn on the paid feature. I began thus Substack journey initially to keep my family posted on my Dad who was with me 24/7 while he journeyed to his death with his partners Demential and Parkinsons. I tried to capture his “Elderings” for posterity. After he died last year, I enjoyed writing so much, in addition to it being cathartic, and it’s evolved to what it is as I simply try to perform alchemy on every moment to better my life and those I love--to wit includes most everyone and every living thing. Know, Cherie, how much your comment meant to me tonight. I’ve already archived it. Thank you. Now I’ll gladly pull up a chair for you when Barack and Michelle show up. I’ll even serve you an oatmilk latte with a vegan whole wheat blueberry muffin first--the Obamas can wait, they never write me.
Thank you, Kert, for this kind reply which I am only just finding tonight. I have read some of what you have written about your Dad, and will read more. I’m soaking it in and finding inspiration because I worry I may be taking care of my parents or husband some day. And I’ll take you up on that offer. The Obamas never write me either!