As we embarked on the hour and a half to the Susquehanna River on Tuesday, we felt ourselves escaping the confines of our reality. As I peered out the window, I watched us leave behind the cramped, vehicle-automobile streets of Newark in exchange for the vast, green rolling hills of Amish county. As I observed the dips and peaks of the hills that stood in front of blankets of orange, red, and yellow foliage, I thought about the waves that the hills formed—how the peaks and dips represented the good and the bad, respectively. We really couldn’t get to a peak, or the good, without experiencing the dip, or the bad. As we passed the farms, buggies, and the Amish children that were playing outside and enjoying the simple pleasures of life, I couldn’t help but be grateful that we were leaving behind the complex politics filled with hate, anger, and conflict that filled media in modern society, especially today. As I kept driving, I realized that I was only grateful for this reprieve from our technology-filled society because I had two extremes to compare—the peaceful and seemingly simple life of the Amish to the busy and complex life that I lived in day to day.
I pondered about this theory dualism later on that day as we stood on Little Indian Rock in the middle of the Susquehanna River. On one side was the breathtaking beauty of the river glistening in the sun and its towering banks with walls of trees surrounding it, and on the other side was the sore sight of the brown, dull concrete of the Conowingo hydroelectric dam. We all stood there and discussed the dualistic nature of these contrasting scenes. Similar to the car ride, I guess my appreciation for one (in this case the natural beauty of the river) is in part due to the contrasting sore sight of the hydroelectric dam. As Professor Jenkins said, although it would be great to just have the nature aspect, we live in a world where both extremes are very much interconnected.
As our tour guide Tom pointed out the circles, spirals, and the cupules within the petroglyphs engraved on Little Indian Rock, I was once again reminded of the wave like form that seems to be omnipresent. Coincidentally, Tom went on to describe the dualistic attitude of Native Americans, who believed that for the good to exist, the bad had to exist as well. They believed that both entities were dependent on one another, and that without one, you couldn’t have the other.
As we piled into the cars to return back home a few hours later, I realized just how perfect and necessary the balance of things were in the world. With the happiness and bliss that I filled myself with from the day’s outdoor adventures, I felt equipped to handle the realities of modernized society. Even this, I reminded myself, was dualistic. Experiencing stress makes relaxation that much more peaceful, experiencing sadness makes happiness that much more sweet.
One vote, 2 homework assignments, and several hours later, I settled into the couch in the living room, watching the results of the election pour in. My family and I watched in dismay as Trump’s numbers steadily beat Hillary’s. Sometime well past 12 o’clock (honestly my feeling of dread blocked out any sense of time), the results came in—Trump won. Donald Trump—the sexist, xenophobic, misogynistic, racist, hate-spewing man was America’s next President. I went to bed in shock and disbelief.
When I woke up the next morning, I felt like I was waking up from a bad dream, only to remember that this was very much reality. Anger, disappointment, frustration, hopelessness—emotions of every kind just kept pummeling through my body. I stayed in bed reading every article about the outcome of the election that I could get my hands on. Suddenly, going to school didn’t seem so important. The thought of classes and exams paled in comparison to the knowledge that Trump would lead America for the next few years.
Over the last five days, I’ve gone through quite an emotional roller coaster. Reading stories of black and Muslim people experiencing violence from people who were empowered by Trump’s agenda within days of the election filled me with so much sadness and hopelessness. However, as I sit here and reflect on our trip to the Susquehanna River, I find peace in the theory of duality. We cannot reach the peaks of the hills without enduring the Trump-filled dips (not to say that Trump represents “the bad”…well actually, that’s exactly what I mean)—and in that, I find some comfort. While gripping onto this theory of duality as my cloak of comfort this week, I look forward to spending these next four years fighting for a little more good and a lot less bad.