Deep Purple
Finding Our Way Back To the Middle Ground: A Call for Unity
by Clay Hipp
Ed Mell, 'Veils of Time,' 12x30, oil on linen, 2006.
Let me just say it, I am tired of pretending. Tired of careful words, measured phrases, tactical silences.
I am afraid—deeply, deeply afraid—and I suspect you are too.
Not alone or in private moments, but a creeping permeating fear that we are watching something slip away. Something we cannot name but desparetly need to hold onto.
It seems that our collective consciousness senses that this moment in time is something different. We may be on the verge of losing it all.
And yet, we cannot allow ourselves to be paralyzed by despair. There is a way to toward a different reality. But it must be pursued vigorously by all of us who “believe” in that ephemeral idea/dream that led us to this place and time.
We must each end the talk. The rhetoric. The finger-pointing.
We must look deeply inside and begin to listen—to voices that are wiser, less driven by ego, more attentive to something larger than ourselves.
In short…..the common good.
This is hard to think about. Hard to hear. Almost too much to bear.
So, begin close to home. Embrace your friends and family. Lift each other up.
And then…..the harder part.
Consider those for whom you have very little affinity.
Taylor Goldsmith’s poignant song “Crack the Case”, about navigating broken relationships, is especially relevant here:
“I wanna sit with my enemies
And say—we should have done this sooner
While I look them in the face
Findin’ out that we occupy
Somebody else’s opposin’ side
On the banks of some great divide
Two versions of a dream
I wanna call off the cavalry
Declare no winners or losers
And forgive our shared mistakes”
Look, I am aware that this might seem platitudinous, pretentious, presumptuous. I can do nothing but say to you that this is not about me. It is about us and the country we call home—perhaps still love.
I, too, want all this to pass.
To wake up and find it was only a bad dream. Unfortunately, it is too very real to ignore. If we do not all wake up now and act, however imperfectly—the fear of which we speak might become firmly grounded.
My point?
One that I mentioned in my last post, but one that I perhaps did not fully honor:
There is, in this country, still a vast middle ground.
Sadly, we seem to have wanted it from two very different perspectives. As the two extreme ends of the spectrum fought it out, the rest of us became too tired to pay this “internecine war” any attention.
But, in the process, we also became complacent and simply allowed them to scream and shout so loudly that the good still left in us withered while we looked after our own little lives, removed ourselves from the chaos.
“As the extremes have grown louder, the rest of us have grown quieter. ”
Now, we are left with letting what used to be simply “politics as usual” become nothing but noise about seeing who can throw the most money at the other side.
Consequently, that has become the true battleground. We are bombarded constantly by those who tell us that they will lose if we do not shell out. It often seems like ideas are secondary and integrity is optional. Power and winning seem to be the only prize.
Perhaps there is another way—not through force, but through ideas. Integrity and sincerity that is shared.
And yet, there is something even deeper we must face:
We may have lost our common “culture” —the very ground on which our mutual understanding once stood.
When I was growing up, we talked to each other about music and books and TV shows that we shared because there were only three networks—three.
We talked about Matt Dillion and Miss Kitty. We hummed the same jingles. We each had our own favorite six o’clock news anchor and while each had somewhat different points of view—they were thoughtful about how they delivered them.
They earned our trust because they seemed to care about the truth, not just ratings.
Most importantly, we “listened” to each broadcast and to each other—around the water cooler at work and on our front porches after dinner. We all seemed to disagree about the same things, had similar ways to talk about it and a basic set of facts.
Today, our modern culture has moved us far away from this kind of shared experience. You watch your news feed. I watch mine. An algorithm decides what you see. We are not just disagreeing, we are living entirely different realities.
Just as pertinent were our chosen “places of worship.” Each—Presbyterians, Methodists, Baptists, Church of God, Lutherans, and more—approached matters of faith differently, but I cannot recall a single argument about the truth or any attempt to “convert.”
I grew up in a household where my parents were Baptist and Methodist. I became neither. (Okay, there were groups who would knock on the front door and hand out their pamphlets.)
We were all different, yet, somehow together.
Coke or Pepsi. Chevy or Ford. Tiger or Gamecocks. We were mill people and townies, Democrats and Republicans, and we did not always speak the same language.
But we were Americans, proud of our shared heritage, and serious about state and federal “policies” with which we disagreed.
What I think changed: we no longer gathered.
We retreated to our own corners of the world, seeking the comfort of like-minded podcasts, curated social media feeds and self-selected communities. The echo chambers started to take over.
In the midst of all this noise - we have lost something vital. The uncomfortable necessity of encountering people different from ourselves. Votes in the legislatures were bipartisan compromises. We disagreed, sometimes strongly. But we we all shared something underneath it all: A sense of belonging, a sense of place and—most crucially—a willingness to meet in the middle because we had to.
We lived next to each other. We worked next to each other. We didn’t have the luxury of alienation.
Please, understand—this is not nostalgia. I am not suggesting we go backward. I am talking about something deeper: the very essence of democracy. It requires differing views and a shared commitment. Not commitment to being right, but a commitment about what matters.
We have lost that—and we need to find it again.
Deep Purple Coalition
I am not indulging in wordplay.
“Purple”—
as in not red or blue.
“Deep”—
as in thoughtful and committed.
“Coalition”—
as in joined together.
I believe that there is a vast population of people who exist in this space.
They are:
Uncommitted, unrepresented and largely unheard. Many are as uneasy and perhaps even frightened (as am I). Consequently, they have not yet found a common voice and so, they remain silent.
But what if a galvanizing voice began to emerge? What if it was formed by —encouragement, recognition and through one another? Mutual encouragement from those who share their values.
I firmly believe that if there is enough evidence of the existence of this emerging “voice,” and that someone with personality, drive and hope will emerge to speak on our behalf. We have been silent much too long. This is not about winning, this is about whether or not we are willing to show up. I fear we do not, we risk losing something far greater.
So I beg you, Let’s begin this work now.
Here is what being part of the Deep Purple Coalition means:
Have conversations with your friends, family, and receptive acquaintances. Not arguments—conversations. Ask them what they're afraid of. Listen to their answer without trying to "win."
Look for those who are tired of the extremes. They're everywhere— you'll recognize them by their weariness with partisanship and their hunger for something more.
Tell them about the middle ground. About purple. About this idea—that there are millions of us who are tired of partisanship. They hunger for something more, like the ideas I have mentioned. Perhaps, forward this article, or start a small group. Anything we can do to create spaces where nuance is allowed are the kind of spaces where I see our ideas begin to thrive.
Document the emergence. When you see evidence of the coalition growing— share it. Post about it. Write about it. We need evidence that this "voice" exists — this evidence will be the force that galvanizes this movement.
How can you join?
Well, there isn’t a membership card, and we don’t have any t-shirts or a leader (yet). It only means that:
You refuse to accept that America is only red or blue
You are willing to have difficult conversations with people who see things differently.
You believe in the common good, not just personal victory
You are ready to listen, especially when it is hard
The thought of our voices rising, gathering together, gives me hope for a kind of momentum that might take shape, even as early as this fall.
Who is with me?
Coda:
Numerous books and articles show an emerging theme: that if we are to sustain ourselves as a people who can still look after one another, we must recover something deeper—our shared cultural values. For me that means that we must move toward an American “renaissance”.
We must once again care—and give our attention— to all the arts:
Music. Serious literature. Time at the table with family and friends. Spending time outdoors. Sharing with each other the things things we hold dear, and in matters of faith (in the broadest understanding of the word). We are terribly fragmented…..yet we are the only ones who can put ourselves back together. Our “rational” brains are not enough. They have given us our obsession with success and growth and wealth.
And yes, I have hope.
I’m thankful to have young friends who see things differently. They need our support and approval—and a sense that their views are worthy of our attention. That we recognize their feeling of helplessness. We, by and large, are not leading…
Let’s spread the word, and perhaps it will take root.
This all feels so helpless so what can it hurt to try?
Giant oaks from little acorns grow…
