At BSR, our values do not change based on elections.

We need to do a better job of reaching out to others, say people who declared on Facebook this summer that anyone who still tolerates Trump can just unfriend me now. If we had done a better job of listening to people with different values, we would not have been so shocked and horrified on November 6. We deserve this wake-up call. And if we had diversified our media diet, maybe we could have built a bridge to flee this disaster together.

I’ll take the shock and horror

I get the sentiment, but honestly, awful as it is, I prefer to hold onto my shock and horror. This is a reasonable response to having a venal, bigoted criminal (and the Christian nationalists hitched firmly to this train) back in the White House. I will not be abashed and ashamed because I believed human rights had a chance. I will not reproach myself for partisanship because I support basic Constitutional freedoms and oppose white supremacy.

I can’t stop thinking about what some Trump voters did after Biden won in 2020. Did they call for unity and publicly wish they had made more of an effort to understand their neighbors who voted blue? No. They stormed the Capitol, smearing it with blood and shit in their candidate’s name while he watched for hours in satisfaction.

The introspection we need

Yes, at moments like this, we all need to look inward, especially when it’s painful. But systemic justice is not an individual self-improvement project. If this election’s blood-colored landslide demands introspection from Harris voters, that introspection should first and foremost be how am I going to commit myself to standing up for the people who need me?

For some of us, that will mean continued engagement with local and national politics. For others, it will mean redoubled mutual aid networks and fierce loyalty to grassroots communities who've always known that politicians and millionaires are not coming to save us. Others will simply have to batten the hatches and try to survive the next four years and whatever comes after.

Art is political

As I said at the November 6 panel, art is inherently political. No matter what kind of art it is, from a charming watercolor to a feminist opera to a dishy memoir, it does not happen unless its creator declares I have a right to exist and to express myself in safety and to take up space in this gallery or on this stage or in these pages.

For most of us throughout history, that simple statement is a fresh and radical liberty, and our politics determine whether or not it’s a reality.

Opinions versus values

We’re going to hear a lot about how progressives, in particular, have a responsibility to seek “viewpoint diversity” and look beyond our own media “bubble” to better understand those on the right. I won’t argue with the value of a Wall Street Journal op-ed or analysis from The Bulwark, and I’m devoted to the nonpartisan experts over at The Conversation. But adding Joe Rogan, Fox News, or the Washington Examiner to my media diet is not going to help me support trans people, including my own BSR colleagues.

We on the BSR team love a rigorous, surprising diversity of opinions—from our writers and our readers. But here’s the values statement: we will not tolerate attacks on anyone for being who they are. We debate opinions and ideas. We do not debate other people’s right to exist.

Welcome to our bubble

Viewpoint diversity at BSR means James Ijames is at the top of his game or that his new play is boring and vague. It means loving Emily Wilson and hating James Joyce. It means Les Mis is deeply beloved but also wan and overrated. It means that exhibitions at Barnes can lack context or fail to engage in a reparative process or be freeing and luminous.

All these opinions are anchored in a bedrock BSR policy that welcomes writers of all genders and all ages, immigrant writers, disabled writers, and writers of all ethnic, racial, and religious backgrounds. It’s our policy because it’s the right thing to do and because worthwhile arts and culture coverage as a whole demands diversity of identity, taste, knowledge, and experience. We fight polarization with the window that art provides on other people’s lives. We believe in the need for a free press. And if that’s a media “bubble,” then we are happy to stay inside it and invite everyone to join us.

We are your community, not your enemy

Meanwhile, the president-elect, who routinely calls journalists enemies of the people, recently hoped that assassins would send bullets through the journalists covering his rallies. The answering guffaw of the crowd made me physically sick.

As I told all of our writers on Wednesday, we might be feeling rage, bitterness, despair, helplessness, or a host of other painful things. But our community is still here. We still hold the values of access, curiosity, and dialogue—as long as they’re rooted in equality, safety, and dignity for all. When powerful forces are trying to trample the care, clarity, and connection that artists and journalists bring to the world, that only increases the impact of our work when we stick to it. It increases the need for our work. With your help, we will not stop doing it.

At top: (Photo by Alaina Johns.)