In the movie “Independence Day,” with extraterrestrials attempting to annihilate the human race, U.S. President Thomas J. Whitmore addresses a ragtag band of pilots, the last hope of repelling the invasion, saying:
In less than an hour, aircraft from here will join others from around the world, and you will be launching the largest aerial battle in the history of mankind. “Mankind.” That word should have new meaning for all of us today. We can’t be consumed by our petty differences anymore. We will be unified in our common interest.
That threat of extinction erased international divisions and bound the survivors together.
In the coffeeshop I frequent, a man and a woman sat nearby discussing advertising prices for a magazine. In her mid-60s, the woman was white, well-dressed, with coiffed gray hair and a crisp voice. The man was black, dressed in dark, fashionable clothing, with long dreadlocks. They hit it off famously, yet their warm and civil conversation would baffle some of today’s ideologues. What about racism and sexism?
The answer’s simple. This man and woman were united in the common cause of personal gain. Each wanted to help the other while also helping themselves.
Switch gears to Democrat Josh Shapiro of Pennsylvania, who was one of 10 governors who declined to set up a state exhibit for this summer’s Great American State Fair in Washington, D.C. Pennsylvania’s two U.S. senators, Republican Dave McCormick and Democrat John Fetterman, responded by announcing that with help from some of their state’s businesses, Pennsylvania, home of the Liberty Bell, the Declaration of Independence, and the Constitution, would in fact sponsor a booth at the fair.
In this case, two political opponents put the interests of their constituents and Americans everywhere ahead of partisanship.
Which brings us to my hometown.
The Meeting
On June 22, my town council voted 6-0 in denying changes to town zoning measures that would have opened my town to data center developers. More than 100 people spoke at this meeting, with more than 350 attending. Most of those speakers told the council why blocking data centers was imperative, with reasons ranging from excessive water and electricity usage to environmental impact.
County officials later considered zoning regulations and laws related to the data centers. Here, too, several hundred voters turned out, and the county issued the same verdict as the town: No data centers need apply.
Common Interests Makes Strange Bedfellows
Like many communities, my town is home to a mix of people. There are families with deep roots and families recently arrived, a burgeoning Catholic community alongside a Protestant culture, commuters who use the town as their bedroom community while they work in strongly blue areas of our state, and a number of MAGA supporters. In short, these are not necessarily people that normally play well together.
Yet there they were, presenting a united front against data centers. As in “Independence Day,” they were putting aside their differences to battle for a common threat. Like the man and woman in the coffee shop, they were working together in pursuit of personal interests with a common goal. And like the Pennsylvania senators, they were willing to lay aside ideologies and past quarrels for the good of all.
Attendees of the meeting with whom I spoke all commented on this show of solidarity. As local writer Mike McCool wrote:
But Monday night demonstrated something increasingly rare in modern civic life: a visibly united community.
People who likely disagree on many other issues sat shoulder to shoulder, applauding the same message.
An Evening of Enlightenment
Sometimes “communities” resemble high schools, a collection of cliques with little uniting them one to the other. Yet the comments made by locals suggest that many engaged in the data center debate developed a deeper awareness of community and neighborliness that evening. They encountered one another face to face rather than through the news, social media, or the prejudices of appearance and political opinion. Here was a mix of folks, young and old, from all sorts of backgrounds and beliefs who stood together under the banner of a single cause: they wanted their town to remain as it was. That’s a sign of love in a community.
A Perspective Regained
Children often invert binoculars, looking through the big objective lens rather than the ocular lens, giggling over how small everything looks.
Some media outlets, social influencers, politicians, and others do the same regarding the day’s political and cultural issues. We focus on some specific incident or political quarrel, often through the lens of ideology, and ignore the bigger picture.
So many of us discuss and debate national issues beyond our direct influence or control – the latest proposal of some politician, a ruling by the Supreme Court, the wars and rumors of wars in our culture – while neglecting local affairs and government. We can name the president of the United States, but many people can’t name the mayor of their town.
For at least one evening, my town turned the binoculars back into their proper place. Citizens saw what truly counted – the present danger to their community – and acted as one.
The Most Important Lesson of All
In “Democracy in America,” Alexis de Tocqueville wrote, “Town-meetings are to liberty what primary schools are to science; they bring it within the people’s reach, they teach men how to use and how to enjoy it.”
That June evening put on a class in liberty and democracy. Citizens and officials exercised their rights to freedom of speech and assembly, demonstrating their faith in representative government. Embedded in that evening were elements of the Declaration of Independence – “Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed” – and of the Bill of Rights, both keystones to our liberty.
Whether we serve in local government, attend town council meetings, volunteer in a food bank, throw a barbeque for the neighbors, or even purchase next year’s school supplies locally rather than online, we are building community, which in America means we are building liberty.
Jeff Minick is a father of four and grandfather to many. A former history, literature, and Latin teacher, Jeff now writes prolifically for The Epoch Times, American Essence Magazine, and his Substack.
This culture article was made possible by The Fred & Rheta Skelton Center for Cultural Renewal, a project of 1819 News. To comment on this article, please email [email protected]. The views and opinions expressed here are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the policy or position of 1819 News.
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