Dinner time will save democracy

What happened to dinnertime? Asked that question lately? Amidst all the vitriol and egregious behavior, most solemnized with texts, likes, and emojis, we’ve lost something, and that something, I think is America. Dinnertime allowed us to come together. When you heard the bell, you dropped everything because you had to get home. Dinnertime was where we heard many voices. It’s lost and so is the heritage it gave generations before us. It was there, as Ronald Reagan once said, great change in America begins.

Some weeks ago, I talked about dads and the journey we face and how taking the time to write our sons or our dads about our lives. Recently I wrote my sons about rituals and challenged them to parcel out time to just sit and talk around the dinner table.

What a novel idea?

In a recent Washington Post article, Christine Emba talked about men being lost. She delved into the desperation, depression, and denial of this issue. Men can’t seem to get it together and many who can’t find or keep a job are moving back home. Suicide rates and depression are higher than ever for men. And society doesn’t seem to want to either acknowledge the issue or handle it other than nod their heads and say “we know.” So, it doesn’t get talked about as you have men who are majoring in video games or addicted to porn.

These are real, not easy to handle and are not going away. There is no forum for it. Not on Facebook, Twitter, or Threads. You won’t hear anyone with any desire to get tenure discuss it in the classroom. I tried over 15 years ago and the backlash from teaching men on who they are, how they can better themselves and that they’re okay got cancelled. And we don’t have a forum at home to address. Sad.

I’m truly anxious about a lot of things now. Most of them I can’t do very much about, but one thing I can do, and try to do is to encourage. Among the ideas I have social media platforms as an opportunity to teach about heroes, history, and hope. Those are things we all can incorporate into our lives, and share old ideas with just your voice. And it could be something as simple as dinnertime.

Do you remember those?

I remember discussing school, my friends, aspirations and sometimes being hurt. It was at the dinner table when I first expressed an interest into going to college and that beacon began to shine as my sharecropping uncle and aunt began to enlist those around at church or school to help me understand it might be a dream, but it might happen.

It was at the dinner table when our pastor came over that we discussed not only his sermon, but also the vision of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and the virtue of the content of character. It wasn’t idle conversation, and the fact I was at the table dispelled the idea that ‘children should be seen and not heard.’

Dinnertime was valued. It was a part of our landscape—a Norman Rockwell painting. There was time we talked about books or TV shows, but even after I went to college, I relished with my roommates, had discussions at the mess hall when I was in the army and the early days of being a parent. It was truly a place to be fed.

As we continue our path and uncover the authenticity of who we are as a nation, it will be at the dinner table when fake news can be silenced, dreams validated, and America saved. Dinnertime is the place where we put down the phones, we turn off the TV and we allow us time to hear our voices.

It’s not easy, but worth bringing back to save the soul of our nation.

Archie R. Wortham, PhD

Professor Emeritus