The great American poet Maya Angelou once proclaimed, “When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.” It’s a powerful, incisive statement. It cuts through the fog of dissemination, obfuscation, and doublespeak. Maya’s maxim is generally quoted in context of an individual person, but it can be applied more broadly to a group, region, or country.
The dust is settling from the 2024 elections, and the post-mortems keep rolling in. For the most part, the experts’ analyses are like everything else seen in hindsight: 20/20, 20/30, or even 20/200 for the willfully blind.
One of my favorite Star Trek TV episodes is “Journey to Babel” in which the Enterprise is charged with transporting Federation ambassadors to a conference. After an ambassador is murdered, Mr. Spock states the assassination isn’t logical. The Andorian ambassador, whose race is very passionate, educates Spock about such acts: They’re not acts of reason but of passion, he says. The motives lie not in the mind, but in the heart.
The Andorian’s point is well taken and can be applied across the spectrum of human action from murder and suicide, as I noted in “Suicide: A Personal Reflection,” to voting.
A myth persists among voters about why they choose certain candidates and support or oppose ballot initiatives. They cling to the delusion their decisions are purely rational, based objectively on studied candidates and issues. While there’s truth in that, ultimately voters make choices based upon their feelings, which reflect their values. Given that, one can conclude the person or issue a voter supports is a testament to that voter’s personal values. Like the old saw that says you are what you eat, you are who and what you vote for.
It’s been that way since ancient Greece, but the outcome of the 2024 presidential race is particularly revealing: It clearly shows the fissure between two American value systems has exploded into a chasm. Which makes me grateful to be a Coloradan.
Like our nation’s history, Colorado’s is blotched with horrific stains beginning with the Sand Creek Massacre. But Coloradans today broadly recognize—don’t deny—past wrongs and strive to rectify them. We take proactive measures to protect the vulnerable, like inscribing into the state constitution a woman’s fundamental right to decide what’s in her best health interests. One of our strengths is we aren’t by and large wedded to religious dogma or under the spell of an ideology. And we don’t live in dreaded fear of The Other. Heck, we even tolerate Texans during ski season although I give them a wide berth when on the slopes.
Looking across the American political landscape and seeing what citizens of other states decided, I shudder, primarily because of how it reflects their ethos. It’s a reminder, though, about why we have it good in Colorado, where ideas like censorship, book banning, and allowing women to die or be irreparably harmed because of legalized religious prescriptions and proscriptions are anathema.
Have we finally thrown in the towel on our democratic experiment? Ben Franklin said we’d have a republic as long as we could keep it, and I’m wondering whether we’ve reached that point. The 2024 election unequivocally exposes who we are, regionally and nationally. We’re no longer one. Like during the Civil War, we’re two, differentiated and separated by disparate value systems. We’re no longer an indivisible union, but instead the Bifurcated States of America.
Can we come back together and agree on fundamental Americanisms like liberty and justice for all, freedom of thought and expression, and not allowing government to play God like it does in Iran? Can we reunite and march anew toward that more perfect union? We did once, so I suspect we can do it again. But even if so, it’ll likely be a protracted slog, and I’ll probably age out of life before that comes to pass.
When I was coming of age in Western PA, two John Denver songs—“Rocky Mountain High” and “I Guess He’d Rather Be in Colorado”—especially captivated me. I didn’t know then why the desire to live in Colorado took root, but it got clearer as the years passed. Like so many, I found an embracing home here and have lived a fulfilling and adventurous life. In addition to hiking and skiing, I’ve found my “peeps.”
But there’s more. I’ve learned the difference between my life there and the one here was and continues to be more than about lifestyle: It’s about the different cultures’ ethos—their guiding principles and values—and never have those been more distinctly and starkly expressed.















Laurel McHargue
November 19, 2024 at 3:24 pmJerry, Another thoughtful and timely essay. Teachy, not preachy! I fear too many people this time around went with their gut rather than doing the hard work of researching. I fear this time around will be quite different from #45’s first term.
Sunny Weber
November 20, 2024 at 5:31 pmOnce again you’ve hit my own nail on the head. While researching “Golden Visas” and Canadian immigration, I’ve come to realize that as a Colorado native, I am for the moment, safe. I am a white, upper-middle class, older woman so many of the impending disasters, ignorant actions, and looming losses will not be felt by me as intensely as younger, non-white, poor, females. For the moment, I plan to hunker down, safeguard my resources and assets as best I can, and like you, “age out” the disaster of the next years. Thanks for reminding me I have friends like you who are facing the same dilemmas. If I were younger, I’d definitely “be heading for the hills,” figuratively. Literally, I am and always have been here.