Make America Whole Again

Can a diverse new political coalition and a catastrophic natural disaster help us reclaim the unity Martin Luther King Jr. envisioned?

Photo by CAL FIRE/Flickr

Sometimes the universe laughs at us. Other times, in the words of famed psychologist Carl Jung, it winks.

Jung coined the term “synchronicity” in the 1950s to describe seemingly unrelated events that coincide in improbable ways, yet hold some significance in our lives. Seeing a number repeatedly, running into an old friend unexpectedly, hearing a song you were singing when you turn on the radio—these are all examples of what Jung would describe as “winks from the cosmos.” Today, as we honor the birthday of Martin Luther King Jr. and inaugurate our 47th president, I can’t help but wonder if the universe is winking at us.

Many are grappling with the “painful irony” that some Americans will celebrate a civil rights icon on the same day that others will laud “a man who opposes racial progress.” At first glance, it’s easy to see why the timing of these two events might seem unrelated. Martin Luther King Jr. galvanized a movement to secure equality for black Americans who had been deprived of fundamental rights and liberties. By contrast, Donald Trump has been accused of bigotry and racism that has harmed the black community.

Yet if the past few years have taught us anything, it’s that appearances can be deceiving. I think synchronicity is calling us to look deeper into the complicated legacies of these two men, how they have brought us to this unique point in history, and how they might impact our path going forward.

The unprecedented political and cultural divide in America has made the call for unity more urgent than ever. Yet after one of the most politically charged presidential elections in modern history, there is a glimmer of hope. Americans on both sides of the aisle are beginning to find common ground on some of the nation’s most divisive issues. At the same time, we find ourselves grappling with the physical, emotional, and financial toll of an unprecedented natural disaster that has displaced tens of thousands of people. Maybe—just maybe—we’ve been given the rarest of opportunities: a chance to find unity on an even broader level by confronting deep-seated problems afflicting Americans from all walks of life.

Although the driving principle of the Civil Rights Movement was racial equality, King and other leaders recognized that they couldn’t achieve their objective without solidarity between black and white Americans. They would need to work together toward the common goal of eliminating “pervasive and persistent economic want” taking root in both communities.

In the late 1960s white poverty was spreading fast throughout Appalachia, the South, and cities in the Northeast. By 1968, there were almost twice as many white people living in poverty as black people. King understood that if white people faced these headwinds, then black people had little hope of gaining ground; systemic inequalities based on class—not race—ensured that people of any color born into poverty had almost no chance of escaping it.

King cautioned against the temptation to alienate white allies with bitter slogans and rhetoric and instead emphasized the importance of strategic alliances. “There is no solution for [blacks] through isolation,” King argued. United in their common struggle, they stood a better chance of raising the quality of life for all Americans. Four years after delivering his iconic “I Have a Dream” speech in Washington, D.C., King spoke at Stanford University about the growing disparity between two Americas—one of abundance and opportunity, and another of poverty and exclusion—and his belief that “men and women of goodwill [were] beginning to unite across the lines of race and religion and make a way for brotherhood."

As the Civil Rights Movement faded from view, the quest for racial equality endured while the emphasis on unity subsided. Identity politics emerged in its place, emphasizing differences in race, gender, and sexuality at the expense of our shared values and overshadowing the common ground King envisioned. But two months ago, something unexpected happened. The seeds of unity reappeared.

Historically, the GOP has been regarded as the party of white, wealthy, conservative Americans while the Democratic Party has long been considered the “big tent” for working and middle class whites and people of color. Over the past decade, however, we’ve witnessed a slow but steady shift in the demographic composition of both parties. In the 2024 presidential election, this trend accelerated dramatically.

According to exit polls:

• One out of every three people of color voted for Trump, including 46% of Latinos and 68% of Native Americans, and 21% of black men

• Trump received 45% of the female vote

• He drew support from 47% of Millennials, 43% of Gen Z, and more than 50% of Gen X

• He performed better with lower-income families (52%) than those with higher incomes (46%).

The unlikely coalition that elected Trump was one of the most diverse in the modern era and signaled an historic transformation of parties now unified less by identity group than class. It also reflected the common struggles and concerns of Americans who are increasingly aware of the complexity of the issues facing us.

For example, many who support immigration have concerns about community safety and economic stability and recognize the need for common sense restrictions. Similarly people who respect transgender rights may question the long-term impacts of puberty blockers and surgeries for gender nonconforming youth. Instead of seeing these issues as black or white, more Americans appreciate the intersection of interests, goals and values that transcend racial and ideological divides.

Yes, our country is still very polarized, but there is growing recognition of our shared needs and challenges. The seeds of unity are visible—and they could soon spread further. Last week, we saw signs of unity that might not only transcend the racial and ideological divide, but also the class divide.

One thing that most Americans agree on is that the devastation from natural disasters has increased over time, whether due to anthropogenic climate change or as part of a natural cycle of earth’s evolution. More often than not, the communities destroyed are working and middle class and, more often than not, our government has failed to provide adequate resources to help them recover and rebuild their lives. From Hurricanes Katrina and Helene to the disaster in East Palestine, Ohio, survivors often report a “broken system” that requires them to wait months or years to receive meaningful government help and often forces them to rely on fundraising appeals and community aid. They dutifully pay taxes each year, but they are left wondering: Why has their government failed them?

Fast forward to January 7.

Southern California is no stranger to wildfires, but it’s never experienced catastrophic destruction on the level seen in Katrina, East Palestine, or Hurricane Helene, nor has it experienced government failures that severely hampered recovery for victims. And while the Golden State has long struggled with systemic problems arising from bad governance (an epidemic of crime, a homelessness crisis, and profound income inequality), its wealthiest zip codes have largely been insulated from the fallout.

Efforts to defund the police didn’t impact Beverly Hills and other affluent enclaves; working class cities like Watts and Compton suffered most. Lockdowns that forced remote learning disproportionately harmed students of color in public schools; those from wealthy families had the luxury of hiring tutors or attending private schools in-person.

But the wildfires last week may have shifted the perspective of upper class Angelenos.

While at least half of Pacific Palisades residents were middle class, a significant percentage of victims were high wage-earners—in some cases, the top .01%—and for the first time they are feeling the brunt of policies that have hobbled the working and middle classes. They’re coming to terms with a government that has failed them spectacularly.

From the failure to properly clear brush in wildfire prone areas, fill reservoirs, and an underfunded fire department, to rampant looting and legislation that chased insurers out of the state, L.A.’s elite class has been forced to reckon with a catastrophe caused by a broken system. As a resident of nearby Brentwood observed, “a lot of people in the Palisades [thought] things are going to affect everybody but them, that they are up in this area and nothing is going to touch them. And now when government policies severely affected them they are realizing that their vote matters for them, too.”

This isn’t to suggest the moneyed class is “getting what it deserves” or that their suffering is justified. I have roots in Altadena and Pacific Palisades, and many of my friends and family have been impacted by this disaster. I believe any loss of life or catastrophic damage to property is horrible and tragic, regardless of the victims’ class. But I also believe that in order for any society to thrive, citizens must be on the same page about the core problems they face and the solutions needed.

Pacific Palisades residents who pay more than half a billion dollars in taxes are now asking the hard questions that less well-to-do Americans have been asking for years, yet have never received answers: With so much money at its disposal, why did our government fail us? What are the priorities of the people making decisions about our communities? Where are our tax dollars going? We may have finally reached a tipping point where the answers to these questions can no longer be avoided.

Unlike the victims of Katrina, East Palestine, Hurricane Helene, and their less affluent counterparts in Altadena, the victims of the Palisades Fire have the power to confront system dysfunctions in government, ask hard questions, and get answers. They have the money, resources and influence to hold accountable those who have failed them and others. The process has already started; televised town halls are underway, and a panoply of FOIA requests and litigation has been unleashed. And herein lies the opportunity for the kind of strategic alliance King never dreamed of: a multi-racial, multi-class coalition empowered to confront the root causes of a broken system that’s failing all of us. It’s too early to know what the outcome of these efforts will be, but one thing is certain. When we are united in confronting our problems, we stand a much better chance of solving them.

Today, we find ourselves at a pivotal moment in America’s socio-political landscape. As we honor King’s legacy and welcome our country’s next president, let us seize this opportunity to cultivate the emerging seeds of unity and continue to seek common ground that benefits all of us. Let us commit to focusing on our shared needs and values and what brings us together rather than the political and social ideologies that drive us apart. Above all, let us remember that the pursuit of justice and equality is not confined to a single group, but thrives in the solidarity of all humans.