30/09/2025
Last Friday, I shared a post about a protest march in Exeter. I posted it here, Instagram and Linkedin. It was written from a place of fear and concern about the rise of scapegoating and division in our communities. Since then, I’ve received a flood of comments; many incredibly supportive, some challenging, and some openly hostile.
Some comments were personal attacks:
“She needs to get a proper job as do those who agree with her stupid post”
“This is rubbish and has no place here”
“Grow up Amanda”
“‘Gripped with fear’ — how ridiculous”
“Silly woman, go and live in China”
While unpleasant, these showed me just how raw and polarised our public conversations have become.
More importantly, some people raised thoughtful critiques, for example:
“By broad-brush labelling and circulating photos of strangers online, aren’t you in danger of contributing to the very scapegoating and hostility you say you want to stop?”
That was hard to hear, but, they’re right. In speaking from fear, my language became “othering” which is exactly the dynamic I am most worried about.
William Galston has recently written about how politics is often driven by “dark passions” such as fear, anger, resentment, which are powerful but divisive. I can see how my post, even if well-intentioned, tapped into those currents.
But Galston also reminds us of “bright passions” such as hope, solidarity, empathy and moral courage. Leaders like Abraham Lincoln and Martin Luther King Jr. drew on these brighter energies, showing that it’s possible to face conflict and injustice without fuelling further division. Something to aspire to.
I don’t regret speaking out about racism and division as silence isn’t an option for me. But I do regret the way I did it, because it risked fuelling the very patterns I want to challenge.
So here’s what I plan to take forward:
- To notice when fear is shaping my voice
- To pause and choose language that invites understanding, not more division
- To lean into the bright passions and remind myself of our shared humanity
I’m grateful to those who engaged in the spirit of civil discourse. You’ve helped me learn.