Over the Easter weekend, my husband and I watched, in addition to “The Ten Commandments,” all three episodes of the made-for-tv miniseries “Hatfields and McCoys.” Originally aired in 2012, it is a dramatization of the bitter feud between the two families on the West Virginia/Kentucky border in the years after the Civil War. The feud began over a dispute of the ownership of a pig, and the escalation is quick and deadly. It’s hard to believe that this story is true, but hate, unfortunately, is very much in the news these days.
Hate was front and center at the January 6 insurrection at the nation’s Capital. It has also manifested itself in an increasing number of attacks on members of the Asian-American community, apparently sparked by the notion that COVID-19 could be blamed on Asians. Hate crimes against Asian-Americans have increased by 150% in major U.S. cities over the past year.
Why do we hate? Do we hate what we don’t understand? Do we hate simply because someone doesn’t look, talk and act like us? Do we hate to somehow make us feel better about ourselves?
Much has been said of late about supremacy, particularly white supremacy in conjunction with the January 6 horror show, among the stars of which were embers of various white supremacy groups like the Proud Boys, the Oath Keepers and the Three Percenters, among others.
Why do they have to make themselves feel somehow supreme? Perhaps because they know they are so obviously not. What is it about the human psyche that causes some people to try to sublimate various racial and ethnic groups in order to make themselves feel superior?
The Bible tells us to love each other. Granted that is not always easy. Loving your family is a given, and even that can be somewhat of a strain on occasion.
But loving your neighbor like yourself can be a challenge. That means loving the guy who cuts you off in traffic, the person who honks at you when you are just a tick slow pulling away at the green light, or the person who cuts in front of you at the supermarket checkout line.
But you’re likely not going to hate these people. You might be miffed, even angry, with them, but hate goes far deeper than anger. It goes soul deep, burrowing itself into the very fabric of your being, gripping your heart and mind with icy tendrils, squeezing until there is little or no room for simple human compassion, let alone love.
It is fascinating that humans, the highest functioning animal on the planet, seem to be the only species that hates. Lions don’t hate antelopes; they simply want to eat them. It’s a matter of self-preservation. Hate is not a matter of self-preservation; it seems merely a path to self-aggrandizement. I hate them. They are not like me. They are inferior; therefore, I am superior.
Human beings also have a great capacity for good, a fact that has been demonstrated time and again during the year we have endured the pandemic. Millions of people have donated time and money to help those less fortunate.
We can do it. We can love our fellow man. That goal is within our reach.
So, what can we, as individuals, do about the problem of hate? Don’t hate anybody, for starters. Sounds easy, but we all seem to have our built-in prejudices, and overcoming those will take a conscious effort on all our parts.
Then, just be nice, to as many people as you can on a daily basis. Every chance you get, be kind and courteous. If the gesture is not returned, or if you don’t even get so much as a smile in return, that’s ok. It’s the other person’s issue, not yours. At least you will know you tried.
The Hatfields and the McCoys allowed hate to destroy their families. Which comes more easily to the human species, love or hate? I guess that’s up to us.
Christina Pierce is the publisher at Hattiesburg Publishing, which produces The Pine Belt News and Signature Magazine.
