The Day I Got Caught in an Anti-Trump Rally
On the day after the U.S. Presidential election, I was attending the HubSpot INBOUND conference. After a busy day of talking with our customers, I dropped off one of our Media Shower employees at his hotel in downtown Boston, then turned on Waze to find the quickest route home. I was about to find out that Waze does a great job of routing around traffic, but not routing around civil protests.
I took my first right, which led me up to the Capitol building, a great golden domed structure that is the seat of Massachusetts government. The car in front of me suddenly slammed on his brakes, and I saw what can only be described as a flood of people rushing down the street toward my car. It was like the scene from World War Z, only with liberal college students instead of zombies.
The taxi behind me was blocking me from reversing, so I sat there as literally thousands of young people poured down the street, most holding anti-Trump signs and shouting anti-Trump chants. They were angry, waving their signs at me as they shouted “F*** Trump!” and “Not my President!” I was just a white guy in a suit, so I just tried to grin and not incite a riot.
Thank God I was driving a Prius.
For fifteen solid minutes the mob spilled around my car, and while I wasn’t exactly afraid, I was certainly hyper-aware that at any moment, this could get ugly. I pictured a furious horde of young liberals tipping over a Prius, which would then become a photo meme accompanied by the word “IRONY.”
“It looks like you’ve slowed down,” Waze informed me. “Are you in heavy traffic?”
Fortunately, the protesters were noisy but peaceful, and they eventually marched away to Boston Common. As soon as the street was clear, I pulled over and inspected the car for damage. Not a scratch.
Somehow, that incident captured the spirit of the aftermath of the election. With all the noise and protest, I believe we can still escape without a scratch, and with a good story to tell. Let me explain.
Laughing With the Nazis
I have been thinking of the story of Victor Frankl, whose book Man’s Search for Meaning is among the most meaningful (and searching) books I’ve ever read. My Jewish friend who referred the book to me said, “Read this book, and you’ll never complain about anything in your life again. It puts everything in perspective.”
Frankl was an Austrian psychologist who was captured by the Nazis, separated from his family, and forced to work as a slave laborer in the death camps during World War II. As he was admitted to the camp, he had one possession that he valued above all else: the manuscript of the book he was writing. He tried to sneak the manuscript under his cloak, but another prisoner alerted the guards, who tore the manuscript away from Frankl and burned it.
It’s worth reading the book just for Frankl’s stories about how he managed to stay alive. When being forced to march dozens of miles in the snow, he tried to congregate in the middle of the pack, because prisoners who fell behind were likely to be beaten or killed. He tells how he tried to curry favor with the ranking officers, laughing at their jokes, even though the Nazis were not known for their keen sense of humor.
One of the big takeaways from Frankl’s memoir is his realization that even though the Nazis took away everything from him — his family, his career, his life’s work — they could not take away his ability to choose how he was going to react. He observed that some prisoners simply gave up hope, and that a noticeable change came over them, as if the spark behind the eyes just went out. Invariably, those prisoners would die within just a few days.
Frankl kept himself alive by keeping that flame of optimism and hope burning in his chest. When marching through the snow before dawn, shivering and freezing, he would picture his wife’s face in 4K detail. When lying in bed, he would work out how he would rewrite his manuscript when he was freed. He could give up, like so many others, or he could hope. He got to choose how to respond to his circumstances. This, he said, was the ultimate freedom.
How Will You Respond?
No matter how you voted in the election, you have a choice in how you’re going to respond to it.
I had a friend call me the morning after the election to complain about unhappy she was.
“Life is constantly throwing us curveballs,” I told her. “We don’t get to choose what happens to us. What we do get to choose is how we’re going to respond to it. Are we going to wallow in despondency? Are we going to be seduced by cynicism?”
“Or are we going to fill up our lungs with optimism and hope? Are we going to search for ways to contribute, to make a positive difference? These are the times where we show our true character, as individuals and as a country.”
My friend was quiet for a moment. Then she replied, “So I guess you don’t want to commiserate.”
Regardless of your political views, the temptation to complain about the state of the world is very strong indeed. But imagine channeling that energy into the causes you really care about. Imagine if that entire protest march was redirected toward homelessness, or gun control, or election reform.
It has been my observation that people who work for a cause generally make a more positive difference than people who fight against a cause. This is why, for example, the War on Drugs is an endless war, but educating society about the root causes of addiction could make a meaningful difference.
Forget what you’re against: what is it that you’re for?
Are you for inclusiveness? Education? Tolerance? Progress? Innovation? Then get to work. We can make improvements in those areas, regardless of who’s in charge. Each of us can move that agenda forward, in some small way.
I talk a lot about hacking the mind, about reprogramming your thoughts from negative to positive, and this is a perfect time to practice. We get to choose how we’re going to respond.
I choose hope.
You might enjoy my book Mind Hacking, because it teaches you how to reprogram your mind.
