Has anyone changed your mind about something by yelling at you? Or the reverse – have you succeeded in changing someone’s mind by badgering or belittling them?
The answer to both questions is probably no. Yet, this is a popular approach when discussing politics.
Whether it’s “joking” with a friend or “screaming” at a stranger online, it all amounts to the same thing. You may feel better — for a while — and the other person is more committed to their original opinion than they were before.
As a Republican woman in the modern age, I’ve received my share of hateful language in person, over the phone, and relentlessly on social media.
In 2010, when I worked on Rick Scott’s first gubernatorial campaign, it was more patronizing than hateful. Oh sweetheart, you’re too young to understand these issues.
In 2012, when I worked to fight off a recall attempt on then-Governor Scott Walker, it came in the form of family obligation. How could you? You’re actively working to take away my pension and health care benefits!
In 2016, when I worked for former Rep. Jim Sensenbrenner (R-WI), I faced my first adversarial mob situation. “Your boss is evil because he doesn’t support Obamacare. That makes you evil too.”
But 2018 was by far the worst, when I worked for then-Senate Judiciary Chairman Chuck Grassley (R-IA) during the confirmation of Justice Brett Kavanaugh. I was visibly pregnant throughout the hearing, and along with many of my female colleagues, received vile messages over the phone and in person from protestors who frequented our office. I hope you get raped and your baby dies.
Throughout this thorough baptism of fire in American politics, I’ve held firm to my personal opinions. No amount of criticism, threats, or vulgar wishes could shift my core beliefs. I believe that’s true of everyone.
Whining, complaining, yelling, and tantrum-throwing are tactics my toddler uses to get his way. Admittedly, sometimes this strategy works, but it leaves everyone exhausted and angry. Isn’t the same true of foul-mouthed, over-the-top politicking? What future does a movement or party have if it alienates everyone on its way to its goal? In the short term, they may find success. In the long run, there doesn’t seem to be a clear path forward. If the loudest voices are the only ones to be heard, those voices may not hear a change in tune from the quiet ones they drowned out. That’s something worth watching in the election cycle.
In 2019, I exchanged my political life for a quieter one. Does that mean the loudest, rudest voices succeeded in silencing a competing voice? In the short term, maybe.
However, outside of the public eye I’ve volunteered as an election worker and mentored students going into public service, politics, and journalism. I’ve privately shared my time and talents with causes and candidates I believe in and, most importantly, I’m a voter.
Looking ahead, these actions are far more important than anything I accomplished in my political career because they have a quiet but lasting impact. Any message I’ve wanted to share has been delivered through mentorship and open dialogue instead of intimidation and bullying tactics. My approach is not unique or special. This type of quiet advocacy is happening everywhere. The loudest voices don’t hear it now, but chances are they will see it on Election Day.
Some people may use this opinion piece as a vehicle for criticism and hateful language. If they do, the question needs to be asked again: whose mind are you changing?
Nicole Tieman is a writer and strategic communications professional. She lives and works in Wisconsin.
