Yes, There is Life After Hate
Hate is the most powerful emotion we face. Hate driven by fear, doubly so.
Those who allow their hate to manifest itself into acts of violent extremism know all too well of hate’s power, as their fear and perceived sense of vengeance today drives them to violent extremist groups built of a combination of fear, blame, and ideology.
We can also see how hate can bring out the best of our fellow men and women. We can see how the power of hate can also motivate and drive society to act for good, using such hate as a vehicle to demand acceptance, love, and belonging.
Put more simply, we can see that there can be life after hate.
Sadly, we see the specter of hate and fear continuing to cast a shadow on our community. Charlottesville. January 6. Tree of Life. Topps grocery store. Charleston. Pulse Nightclub. The list of examples is long and growing longer.
But I don’t need to tell you about violent extremism. You know there is no disputing that acts of extremism and violent white supremacy are on the rise. That is why it is so important that we ask what we can do, both as individuals and as a community, to confront and overcome such increases in hate these days.
That ugly head of hate continues to rise. In recent years, we see far too many incidents of anti-Black, anti-Asian, anti-LGBTQIA, anti-immigrant, anti-undocumented immigrant, anti-Islam, anti-government, anti-women, and antisemitism casting a dark shadow on our community. These numbers increase because some people are fearful. They increase because we think we are being denied what is rightfully ours. They increase because we are struggling. As our frustration and fears grow, we need targets. And we let the overused tropes of hate drive the selection of such targets.
At Life After Hate, we focus our efforts on providing the tertiary supports that those who celebrate evil, who stir up strife, and who embody anger need to leave behind their lives of hate. It is not easy work to try and rehabilitate a violent extremist. The work is complicated and soul sucking and messy. It can lead to one questioning his faith and asking if he is capable of improving, even in the smallest way, our civil society. And it can lead to questions about whether certain people are capable of, are worthy of, rehabilitation and forgiveness.
History is littered with examples of how the strength and negative impact of hate and hate-driven actions can grow when left unchecked. I believe we can help violent extremists disengage from hate and deradicalize their behaviors. I believe people are worthy of a second chapter in life. And I believe the costs are too high for us not to believe in second chances.
This does not mean that we issue blanket forgiveness or embrace a pollyannish belief of absolution. As a Catholic, I embrace the notion that absolution can only come through contrition. As CEO of Life After Hate, I operate under the mantra of compassion with accountability. As a human being, I believe in the power of empathy and in the possibility of redemption, while knowing that both must be earned, and cannot simply be bestowed.
Each day, I work with former violent extremists in support of those who are seeking to leave behind their lives of violent hate. Some seek this change because they have hit rock bottom. Some do so because they fear of being exposed as a bigot or white supremacist in their community. And some do so because they recognize the error in their language, their action, and their ways.
Truth be told, those who commit themselves to exit lives of hate are some of the bravest, strongest individuals that I have ever encountered. They have decided to leave behind their hate families and hate lives with no guarantee that they will be welcomed back into civil society. They know that we are far more likely to judge them by the worst of actions they have committed in their past, instead of recognizing their desire to make amends for such actions. They understand that they must struggle each and every day to take responsibility for their pasts while working to earn our collective forgiveness. And they do so knowing that we may never see them as anything other than haters and extremists. Yet they are committed to changing their lives, rejecting the negativity of their pasts in search of positivity.
That is why accountability is non-negotiable when it comes to our work and when it comes to confronting hate and violent extremism today. Accountability is the pathway to redemption. It transcends punishment, and exists independent of forgiveness. It empowers us to move beyond the grief of knowing our past choices inform current events. It is the lifelong commitment to action that adds good to the world; and to calling out inaction and refusing to turn a blind eye to the pain of fellow human beings.
It is why we are driven to embrace the belief that compassion and forgiveness is possible for even the ugliest of actions, as long as bad actors take full accountability for lives and for the hate they have previously preached and embodied.
In my work, I am regularly reminded of the words of Pope Francis, who preached, “Who am I to judge?” I was raised believing that God was the ultimate arbiter of whether we have lived a life of good or a life of evil. I know that man is fallible, and that our mistakes can be both negligible and severe. I know that some of us have committed evil acts, while there are a limited few who are the living embodiment of evil and hate. As such, I believe that I am called to do what little I can to help my fellow humans lean toward a life of positive actions while rejecting a life of hate. I believe that we are capable of making amends for hurting our fellow men and women. I believe that grace can be achieved if we repudiate hate, deradicalize our words and deeds, and disengage from movements driven by hate.
I believe compassion and redemption can be earned, if one takes full accountability for both the good and evil they have spread on their communities.
I, for one, could wallow in the atrocities of hate and in the growing impact it is having on the people and communities we love, silently wondering why. Or I can set aside that bitterness and let the hate of others drive me to works of positivity, of light, of good, of redemption, and of love. I choose the latter.
We are all accountable for our past actions. We are accountable for our words and deeds, and for our silence and inaction. We are all accountable to our community and to our fellow humans. And we are accountable to ensure that the atrocities of the past are always remembered, yet never replicated.
More importantly, we are all accountable to helping our fellow men and women. To show compassion to those needing it. To offer help to those seeking it. To offer understanding to those searching for it. To offer second chances to those who are earning them.
And we are accountable to demonstrating love in the face of hate, even violent hate. As the Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. said, “returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding a deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out the darkness, only love can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.”
I choose to drive out hate. I choose to reject violent extremism. I choose to practice compassion with accountability. And I choose to believe that there is life after hate.
(The above was delivered on August 17, 2024 as part of Medium Day 2024.)
