Courage And conviction
Lessons in Humanity from a School Board Race
Lessons in Humanity from a School Board Race
A great irony lay at the heart of this year’s race for the at-large seat on the Albemarle County School Board. The attention was unprecedented. While school board races rarely receive much media coverage, this one earned the front page. Campaign contributions for the two candidates surpassed $300,000, nearly 100 times the total in the prior race for the seat.
The irony is the cause of the hype: the father of one of the candidates was the late U.S. Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia. Even were this not true, the race would have drawn interest. Schools are hot. But, the word “Scalia” turned the contest between Meg Bryce and Allison Spillman into the biggest school board race Albemarle had ever seen.
Tribal Warfare
Our society’s polarization is no secret, as many people view politics as a battle of sides, not positions. With their identities defined by politics, addicts of tribal warfare see virtually everything as an opportunity to shoot darts at enemy tribes or prove allegiance to their own. For a woman’s maiden name to bring that warfare to a race about children, though, is a warning that the harm tribalism is doing to our souls has reached a crisis. How can we get out of this mess?
Leading the way was the former campaign manager for Bryce’s opponent Allison Spillman, Chris Seaman: “Antonin Scalia’s Daughter Is Running for Albemarle County School Board, and She’s as Extreme as You’d Think She’d Be.” Spillman’s supporters followed suit, spray-painting “Scalia” on Bryce’s campaign signs, as if one word is enough to choose sides. And Spillman’s campaign used “Scalia” in nearly all its ads. All as if to suggest a woman cannot form independent thoughts of her own, and that theories of constitutional interpretation might have some bearing on improving school test scores or overseeing bus routes.
What makes this ironic is that Justice Scalia himself was known for respecting people regardless of their views. “I attack ideas, I don’t attack people,” Scalia said. “Some very good people have some very bad ideas.” Scalia’s love and respect for those with differing views manifest itself in the most famous friendship in modern jurisprudence, with liberal icon Ruth Bader Ginsburg. “You can disagree without being disagreeable,” Ginsburg said. And so, though the two justices often did not vote together, they did nearly everything else together: vacation, dine, and celebrate holidays, like the New Year’s Eve dinner their families shared each year.
When Scalia and Ginsburg disagreed, it strengthened their friendship, not diminished it. “How blessed I was to have a dear friend of such captivating brilliance, high spirits, and quick wit,” Ginsburg said in her eulogy of Scalia, whom she would call her “best buddy.” Their relationship was a model of humanity in an ever-polarizing world. As Scalia’s son Eugene wrote after Ginsburg died:
What we can learn from the justices — beyond how to be a friend — is how to welcome debate and differences. The two justices had central roles in addressing some of the most divisive issues of the day, including cases on abortion, same-sex marriage and who would be president. Not for a moment did one think the other should be condemned or ostracized.
For Scalia and Ginsburg to know that one of their names had become a tool for polarization would leave the justices rolling over in their graves.
Breaking the Spiral of Silence
A consequence of the toxic tribalism of our time is the growing spiral of silence. Coined by Elisabeth Noelle-Neumann, the term refers to the phenomenon of avoiding expression of political views for fear of public response. Some go along to get along, and then others do, too. As scholars like Jonathan Haidt have observed, modern technologies have accelerated the spiral by enabling partisans to police tribal nonconformance through threats of widespread shaming. This has all but silenced the political center, who have concluded that the benefits of speaking their minds are not worth approbation. Thus, the public square is left vacant for only the most strident voices to occupy.
In the school board race, policing was rampant. Bipartisan supporters of Bryce had their bios scoured for any basis to attack them, no matter how desperate. Those who placed Bryce signs in their yards had them stolen, destroyed, or photographed for public shaming. “Haven’t had a chance to introduce myself to new neighbors that moved in this weekend, but it looks like we don’t have anything in common,” one neighbor wrote on Nextdoor, with a photo of a Bryce sign. When quotes supporting Bryce from former Democratic Congressional candidate Claire Russo appeared in articles, other Democrats were so outraged they told Russo they must be fake.
And then there were the attacks on Bryce herself. In a more rational time, Bryce’s story would be an inspiration. A mother of four and product of public schools herself, Bryce and her husband chose the location of their home for its schools. But, as she watched those schools decline, and the administration refuse to fix them, Bryce reluctantly moved her children to private school. Realizing that not everyone has that luxury, instead of turning her back on the children left behind, Bryce ran for school board to try to help them. She had no agenda but to restore their learning.
For her altruism, Bryce’s reward was a coordinated effort to destroy her reputation. Unbeknownst to Bryce, just weeks after she announced her candidacy, her opposition secretly purchased the web domain www.megscaliabryce.com, which they would eventually use to defame her with personal attacks. Campaign ads echoed the lies, calling Bryce a “conservative political activist” bent on “banning books” and “whitewashing history.” And men piled on. Seaman called her a “right-wing culture warrior.” Charlottesville Democratic Committee's chair called her a “disaster,” “horrible,” and “extreme activist.” A doctor called her a “garbage racist bigot.” And, public signs stated: “Meg Bryce is a Fascist” and “F### Meg Bryce!”
All for trying to fix children’s schools.
While the lies have been debunked, their truth was never the point. Rather, they served their purposes of punishing Bryce, tricking voters, and warning off supporters and future candidates. The targets’ families and loved ones are just collateral damage. In a podcast addressing the smears, you can hear the pain in the voice of Bryce’s husband, John, as he watches people tear down his spouse. “Unanswered lies become the truth,” said John.
The threats and intimidation silenced many. Parents who considered running for school board opted against it “to avoid the hate.” Bryce supporters kept their support to themselves. Democrats hosted Bryce events at undisclosed locations. Those who wrote in support of Bryce did so anonymously, to avoid ad hominem attacks.
And Bryce? It would have been easier for her never to have run for office. Few in the county would have known her name. Even after entering the race, the exit ramp back to a normal life was always available, as she could have dropped out at any time. Remaining in the race would just invite more men to attack her.
Nevertheless she persisted.
Breaking the Spiral of Toxicity
Win or lose, what lessons are there from Bryce’s example? Perhaps hope for a path forward. While toxicity’s growth at times feels inevitable, Bryce has shown at least two ways to slow it. First, don’t spread it. And second, don’t reward it.
Responding to poison with poison just makes the world more poisoned. As Martin Luther King, Jr. said: “That old law about 'an eye for an eye' leaves everybody blind.” When people’s political tribe becomes their identity, they dehumanize enemies, viewing them not as fellow humans but as obstacles to political goals. They are easily unkind. But, even as Bryce faced unkindness and smears, she never responded with the same. When her opponent invited her to a mudslinging contest, Bryce declined. As Ginsburg said, “When an unkind word is spoken, best tune out.” Bryce did just that, focused only on her goal of helping county children.
As for not rewarding toxicity, consider the goal of those who employ it: silencing opposition. Granting them silence encourages more toxicity. But, Bryce showed what happens when someone does not back down. Even as opponents mocked her and sought to destroy her reputation, Bryce refused to allow the judgment of others to drive her into the spiral of silence. She continued to express her views with conviction.
And, what she found was that, just as silence can be contagious, so too can courage and conviction. As Bryce held her ground, soon others joined her, breaking their own silences. Though Democrat Claire Russo knew the vitriol she would face, Russo says Bryce’s courage inspired her to go public with her support. Others, in turn, took inspiration from Bryce and Russo and found courage to comment publicly about an election for the first time in their lives. I was one of them.
And, we all experienced something similar: liberation. Sure, we faced smears, threats, and attacks. But then we realized: what were we so afraid of? The unwarranted judgment of people we have never met? Our loved ones won’t judge us. And neither will those who respect the humanity of people with whom they disagree.
As Justice Scalia once said: “Have the courage to have your wisdom regarded as stupidity."
Of his youngest daughter, he would have been proud.
Simon Davidson
November 6, 2023
An Addendum to this article is posted here.