Emily Dickinson, "When I have seen the Sun emerge" (888)

Gotta learn to debate, like it or not

Two things can be true even though they contradict on paper. It is true we're addicted to "debate me bro" culture, with many who believe that crushing someone in an argument is how knowledge works. What good is it reading a book if I can't tell someone they're wrong and make them cry?

It is also true that we need the ability to shut down bad arguments. This ability goes hand-in-hand with being able to establish basic matters of fact. And so I'm watching Sam Seder take on 20 young conservatives who clearly see themselves as the future of media. I consistently forget what people know about the government or what they consider a knockout argument. It catches me by surprise when I'm explaining the extent to which federal dollars keep nursing homes open and make cancer treatment available.

In the first 20 minutes, one of the young conservatives claims that federal agencies such as the FDA pay taxes. Another can't name anyone who was hired entirely on racial or sexual characteristics as opposed their accomplishments. Still another has trouble understanding that DEIA is about making sure every resume gets a fair chance and that this required civil rights legislation as opposed to the Constitution alone.

Ryan Broderick says this video is "hard to watch" and I'm wondering exactly what he means by that. I can't say it is the most enjoyable thing I've seen. Is it that the conservatives get pwned? Or that Sam Seder has to get loud and repeat himself to make sure the debate stays on topic? The talking over each other? The lust the conservatives have for the camera? The length of the video? Or that sinking feeling that something has really failed younger generations. We successfully outsourced civics education to right-wing demagogues, and this is the result:

Emily Dickinson, "When I have seen the Sun emerge" (888)

Dickinson's "When I have seen the Sun emerge" is an easy poem to indulge. It has an especially musical sound and pace; it is perfect for those new to poetry. You get this short hymn to the Sun in the first stanza, with praise for leaving "a Day at every Door / a Deed, in every place." In a few words, she cements an awe of the celestial body which provides us possibilities. And then it turns to our smallness and meanness. The Sun does this "Without the incident of Fame / Or accident of Noise." It does not have to, in the words of Hopkins, go "itself; myself it speaks and spells." It just has to be, as opposed to those of us clamoring for fame or power or respect. She concludes in a way apt for our age dominated by spoiled billionaires: "The Earth has seemed to me a Drum, / Pursued of little Boys."

When I have seen the Sun emerge (888)
Emily Dickinson

When I have seen the Sun emerge
From His amazing House –
And leave a Day at every Door
A Deed, in every place –

Without the incident of Fame
Or accident of Noise –
The Earth has seemed to me a Drum,
Pursued of little Boys 

But why do I want to introduce this poem to you now? Well, I have a short write-up of it from six years ago. And that brief note includes these sentences of mine:

The one time I can recall a sunrise most clearly I was reeling after a breakup. I hadn’t slept all night and I started to take a walk when the dark was receding. I was caught by surprise not much later, as yellow light broke open the sky by giving it an increasing number of hues and textures. It was a new day, and the emergence of the Sun was a full field of possibilities.

I am trying to remember this time exactly. Truth is, there were several times I was up all night and took a walk to watch the sun rise. I do believe one of them was related to a breakup, but I can't bring to mind what exactly happened. This much I can recall, and I don't know why I didn't say it in 2019: yes, the sun broke the sky open and at least once I found myself surprised by the abundance of colors. However, that wasn't an entirely happy moment. The possibilities felt real, but they also felt like they belonged to another world. They were not mine, necessarily.

I guess I didn't say that when I last wrote on this poem because I stuck too closely to the text. Dickinson's praise of the sun is unconditional. It leaves an "amazing House" to give us "a Day at every Door / A Deed, in every place." The oppressiveness of possibilities can be glimpsed for a moment. The sun gives but does not always provide what we need. In 2019, I won an award for teaching and missed the awards dinner because I tutored in the afternoon and worked at a gas station that night. So many possibilities, so many things to be grateful for. I had time! A working car! A place of my own! Money to live! Friends and allies! and nowhere near the guidance or support required, though people tried to help.

As I'm reflecting on Dickinson's words, I'm thinking that light has to be enlightenment. Knowing better isn't an option; things can be absolutely miserable if you're doing some good but have no idea how it adds up. The blessing of the sun is that it shines light on everything. By extension, you see your deeds in the daylight, you see what they accomplish, you have an idea what you would like to do next. The following day is different because of you. This is not optional for me now. Six years ago I would dismiss this as delusional rambling. I didn't really understand that some opportunities had to be made, though not forced.

Which brings me to her last stanza: [the sun leaves days and deeds] "Without the incident of Fame / Or accident of Noise – / The Earth has seemed to me a Drum, / Pursued of little Boys." She's telling us some things just give, make everything possible, without any extra drama. I did need a little fame or noise then, though, and I need a bit of both now. We need more for ourselves and those we fight for. Any humility we believe proper can get us crushed by those who have no such scruples. The "little Boys" are beating a "Drum" for nothing less than war. And they are noisy. They're screaming about how everyone else is a thief and does not understand "efficiency" and deserves to have their jobs and healthcare cut. It isn't right to lump in the "Earth" with narcissists who can never be told they are wrong, but her final lines do that.

I never thought I'd miss those times I was clueless and in love, but I do miss the stakes. The bittersweet sunrise was lovely.