Weary of incessant squabbles,
Howard Smith – retired Air Force officer and Donald Trump supporter – is sitting in a church hall in the city of Frederick, Maryland, heavily outnumbered by Democrats.
But he seems glad he came to this meeting. It’s a kind of Trump therapy session, designed to teach fans of the president – and liberals – how to speak to each other without arguing.
“My wife tells me not to cause trouble when we go out,” says Mr Smith. “But I think it’s fine to have some back and forth. I actually find people don’t talk at all now though. Everyone’s holding back in case they start something. This meeting’s to desensitise you to the other side. It can’t hurt.”
The meeting, where around 30 attendees are designated “Reds” and “Blues,” has been organised by a non-profit group called Better Angels, which was set up to bring Americans out of the silos they have retreated into since Mr Trump’s polarising presidential election victory in 2016.
It has exploded as no one expected. Around 1,000 gatherings have been held across the US this year. There is no evangelism or recruiting. People just hear about events and show up in increasing numbers. Those who do, on both sides, seem sick of the angry national political discourse; many now so disconnected they no longer know anyone who disagrees with them.
The name stems from Abraham Lincoln’s first inaugural address.
“We must not be enemies,” the 16th president said, imploring citizens of North and South to be touched by the “better angels of our nature”.
“The public square has got bloody recently. Everything is so polarised and I think violence is over the horizon unless we do something,” says Mick Corrigan, 72, a Navy veteran, and “Red” at the meeting.
Better Angels teaches a series of “tone-setting, listening and speaking skills” which were designed by a marriage therapist, and adapted for politics. There are also “de-escalation” techniques for tricky situations.
Above all, it’s about being civil, avoiding conflict and learning to understand “the other”.
Asked to reflect on what they themselves might be doing wrong, both conservatives and liberals began admitting to “thinking the other side is evil,” that they had been too “angry” and “prejudged others”.
“Reds” and “Blues” move to different sides of the room, dividing into pairs with someone of their own side, for a series of role-play conversations, one member pretending to be from the opposition.
For the purpose of the exercise, Stephen Barrett, a Trump supporter, channels his inner liberal to oppose guns. “It’s scary,” he says. “Who knows how many people have guns on them in this room right now?” His opposite number, Mr Corrigan, replies: “But that’s why people want guns. So they can protect you.” After some civil discussion, based on talking points given to them, the two men were able to establish a common ground that they both wanted to be safe. “What about stronger background checks?” suggests Mr Barrett. “And, how about technology, if only the owner could fire a gun?” Mr Corrigan thinks about it and agrees. “All the violence in Baltimore is from stolen guns. So, yes, I’d consider looking at that,” he says.
Nearby, Ellen Hoffman, 65, a “Blue”,
practises saying that she did “understand” why people would want guns to hunt and protect their family, before delicately suggesting that AR-15s were not needed for that.
Everyone is told to abandon the desire to change anyone else’s mind; to accept that facts no longer win an argument, and to avoid using “trigger” words like “fake news”, which shut down discussion.
At all costs, the other side must be allowed to “save face”, ensuring that no one looks ignorant, they are told. Declarative statements like “Trump is insane,” or “Trump should be president for life,” are to be avoided.
Tom Smerling, the moderator for the meeting, used to work in public policy in Washington, dealing with issues including the Middle East and climate change.
He says bringing together Trump supporters and liberals had been “harder” than dealing with Israelis and Palestinians. But there is room for
optimism. “There is an upsurge at the grassroots level,” he says. “Americans are sick of the tension and people are coming out of the woodwork all over.
“Whether it can have an impact on politics at the national level remains to be seen.
“People come to us red or blue, and they leave that colour, but they see the other side and perhaps find some common ground.
“We have had a lot of vociferous people, but we have never had a meltdown, or someone walk out.”
As the Frederick group leaves to try out their new speaking and listening skills at dinner tables and bars in the real world, one woman says that she was “taking away hope”. A man says that he had realised that he was not “always right.”
However, they are warned that the skills would only work for in-person conversations, and to expect only disappointment on the internet and social media.
“Online is, I’m afraid, a different animal,” admits Mr Smerling.