2026-08-02
Avoiding the technique of "divide and conquer"
This sign is posted across from the Evansville Art Center, a lingering relic from the last presidential campaign and a constant reminder of how differently I and some of my neighbors view things.
For the past three years, I’ve served as a board member of this center, which is located down the road from my home in Evansville, Minnesota, population 603 of the last census, part of a county that voted for Trump over Harris two-to-one. Some evenings, I think of trying to ask the owner of the building if his sign has finally reached its expiration date. Then I turn back to the music.
Having moved back home after living in New Orleans for the past thirty years, I crave nights with musician friends in small rooms. These are the kind of nights I’ve helped build at Evansville Art Center. Some music I’ve participated in over the past few months in Minnesota — especially during the still-ongoing ICE assault — has explicitly named names in our lawless regime. But Evansville Art Center has kept to one message: We build the kind of community where all people are welcome to gather together for art and music, to create alongside one another, and listen to each other.
I wonder if I’m pushing the boundaries of that community enough. In our day-to-day lives, where does capitulation begin? Then I think of the words of Willie Nelson’s wife Annie, from Alex Abramovich’s profile of Willie Nelson for The New Yorker last year. “Let’s face it, we’re being divided intentionally,” she said. “That’s part of the playbook—divide and conquer. It’s been around a long time. When somebody’s saying hello to somebody without knowing their political ideology, and they’re just enjoying music together, that’s church. That’s healing. That’s really important right now. Really, really important.”
For now, as long as it’s allowed, and as long as I can stand it, that church is still in session.