Being an Independent in a Deep Red and Blue World

I grew up surrounded by the conservative landscape of southside Virginia. Here, I learned many life lessons that helped chart my course. A wise man and elder in this region once told me most folks are born moderates and die conservatives, claiming one party is good and the other evil. That got me thinking: what is good, and what is evil? Decades later, I find myself nodding to fellow Virginian Thomas Jefferson’s sharp warning about two-party systems: “If I could not go to heaven but with a party, I would not go there at all” (Jefferson, 1789). He also wrote to John Adams, “The greatest good we can do our country is to heal its party divisions and make them one people” (Jefferson to Adams, 1813). Why did he say this? Unlike many of his time, Jefferson traveled widely, witnessing extremes of limited governments, monarchies, and nations tied to a single religious ideology. (This doesn’t mean he shunned faith—just that he saw its limits in governance.)

My journey has crisscrossed politically diverse landscapes. I’ve lived in the red and blue pockets of Northern Virginia back when Fairfax leaned right and Arlington glowed deep blue. I’ve worked in the Deep South, California, the Middle East, and Asia. Stateside, I’ve navigated the progressive bubble of Seattle and the deep conservative nature of southwest Virginia. Over dinner or coffee in Roanoke, I’ve debated school funding with local leaders. In Capitol Hill’s urban sprawl, I’ve chuckled with neighbors about quirky zoning laws. In Seattle, I listened as tech workers complain about wages and benefits. I’ve traveled to the earth’s four corners many times and seen extreme poverty and wealth on both ends of the spectrum. But I find that the moments – from rural fields to suburban streets to tech-driven cities – that have ultimately shaped my outlook on life.

The Lost Art of Meaningful Debate

Nothing beats a friendly, respectful debate. A wise Patrick County gentleman once told my best friend, “Politics ain’t worth losing a friend over.” These are wise words from a man who will ultimately be remembered as one of the great innovators of our time.  I carry those words with me and remind myself life’s too short for tribal grudges. Why not build stronger communities instead? Differences shouldn’t divide us—they can enrich us. At a recent gathering, friends threw labels my way: “hash conservative,” “flaming liberal,” even “RINO.” I grinned and asked, “Why do you say that?” Their answers sparked a lively discussion. I watched them discover unexpected common ground. Living in contrasting worlds has sharpened my ability to spot shades of gray others might overlook. That’s why I resist picking a side. Truth often hides somewhere in the messy middle.

The State of the Union

Light moments aside, I worry about today’s political posturing and hypocrisy. How does someone excuse one politician’s blunder but condemn another’s, just because of party loyalty? Why cherry-pick a Bible verse to prop up an argument while ignoring others that challenge it? Why cash a COVID-19 relief check and then lament the national debt without a second thought? These aren’t black-and-white issues. They’re complex grays demanding reflection, not snap judgments.

As an independent, I’ve forged principles by listening across divides. I don’t claim to have all the answers. Most days, I lean toward cutting waste and balancing budgets while protecting education, healthcare, and defense. I yearn for affordable universal healthcare for all, if we could fund it without breaking the bank.  I know deep in my heart we must solve our immigration issues more predictably and fairly (we are getting older and our population is actually declining if you take out immigration – something elected officials are not telling you). I wrestle with these tensions constantly. Still, I believe there’s a path forward that doesn’t require choosing a team. Below, I’ll share my core beliefs, propose practical solutions, address potential pushback, and invite you to wrestle with these ideas alongside me. I suspect more of us linger in the messy middle than pundits admit.

A Polarized Nation Losing Its Way

Polarization tears through our communities like a runaway train. A 2020 study by the American National Election Studies revealed a stark reality: 38% of Americans view the opposing party as a “threat to the nation.” That’s nearly double the 20% reported in the 1990s (ANES, 2020). A 2021 Pew Research Center report added another layer—67% of Americans distrust the other side (Pew, 2021). I’ve witnessed this rift firsthand. In southwest Virginia, a 2020 election spat silenced neighbors who were once friends, all over dueling yard signs. In Seattle, friends dismissed rural America as “backwards” without ever setting foot there. They missed the shared struggles beneath the rhetoric. It’s not just disagreement now. It’s disdain. And it’s smothering the nuance I value.

Consider fiscal responsibility, a topic I’ve debated over countless diner tables. In southside Virginia, folks grumbled about government spending yet pocketed stimulus checks. In Seattle, I met people advocating universal basic income with no clear funding plan. Selective outrage complicates things further. One side shrugs off a gaffe if it’s “their guy.” The other demands blood for the same slip. It exhausts me. It holds us back. I listen respectfully, but I can’t help questioning the inconsistency.

My Simple Roadmap

I don’t pledge loyalty to any party. Instead, I follow principles shaped by experiences in red and blue worlds. Here’s my compass, with practical steps I’ve seen work across communities:

1. Respect individual rights. Freedom stands firm. Protect free speech, even when it stings. At the end of the day, an educated population is an informed population. Ensure equal access to opportunities like education. Virginia’s community colleges have expanded online programs for rural students—a model worth replicating (Virginia Community College System, 2023). For instance, their dual-enrollment programs have increased high school graduation rates by 15% in underserved areas since 2018 (Virginia Department of Education, 2023).
2. Balance the books. Fund research, education, and defense without drowning in debt. Hard choices loom. In 2022, the U.S. spent $1.45 trillion on discretionary programs, with defense claiming 50% (Congressional Budget Office, 2023). Trim 5% from defense and redirect it to education—about $72 billion—enough to fund teacher raises in 10,000 rural districts for a year (National Education Association, 2023). Audit both for waste: a 2022 Government Accountability Office report found $50 billion in annual duplicative spending across agencies (GAO, 2022). Hold elected officials accountable through public budget hearings, livestreamed for transparency. I also support exploring a Balanced Budget Amendment, like Virginia’s state-level requirement, though it faces hurdles—past attempts stalled in Congress due to fears of economic rigidity (Congressional Research Service, 2021).
3. Apply laws consistently. The Constitution, Bill of Rights, and all laws must bind everyone equally. Justice shouldn’t bend for a factory worker or a billionaire. Selective enforcement erodes trust. In 2021, the U.S. Sentencing Commission reported disparities in sentencing for similar offenses across demographics—Black defendants received sentences 20% longer than white defendants for the same crimes (USSC, 2021). Uniform standards aren’t optional—they’re essential. Local task forces, like those in Fairfax County reducing recidivism by 12% through consistent parole reviews, show what’s possible (Fairfax County Sheriff Services, 2023).
4. Give back locally. Volunteer, mentor, support community efforts. Politics starts at home. In Patrick County, a food bank feeds 200 families monthly with just a few volunteers (Patrick County Food Bank, 2023). Donate $50 or a few hours to keep those shelves stocked—it costs $1,000 a month to feed 50 families, meaning every $10 helps five people eat for a week. I’ve found myself reflecting: instead of that $5 coffee, what if I pitched in? Small acts ripple outward, like the Roanoke community garden that cut local food insecurity by 8% in 2022 (Feeding Southwest Virginia, 2023).
5. Vote for character. Judge candidates by actions and character, not party colors. I tend to vote for locals who address issues directly impacting the region rather than an incumbent with no record. I also won’t support anyone who doesn’t visit southwest and southside Virginia to meet and discuss issues with all of the region’s citizens. I’m still waiting for my local congressman to show up in our area, just as I’m waiting for both candidates running for governor to do the same. Check voting histories—OpenSecrets.org offers factual records, like who’s funding campaigns and how they vote on key bills.
6. Hear both sides. Most arguments have two perspectives. Listen to both before deciding. In Seattle, tech workers pushed for higher minimum wages, while small business owners feared closures. Data backed both: wage hikes lifted incomes 10% in 2020 but shuttered 5% of small firms (University of Washington Study, 2021). After weighing the evidence, I landed on a phased approach to balance fairness and stability—say, a $1 annual increase over five years, paired with tax breaks for small businesses to offset costs (a model Portland tested with a 3% closure drop in 2022; Oregon Small Business Association, 2023).
7. Escape echo chambers. Read widely. Take classes. Learn. Free courses abound: Khan Academy covers economics basics, and EdX offers civics from Harvard. In 2022, 10 million people enrolled in such platforms (Class Central, 2023). I’ve taken a few myself—they’re a great way to challenge assumptions. Prepare for tomorrow. It’s coming fast.

I bet you have your own list. We won’t agree on everything. But we might share a principle or two. Start there. Pick one thing you disagree on and explore the other view. Surprises await.

I Understand that Nothing Is Black or White

Critics might argue that staying independent in polarized districts renders you irrelevant. Party machines drown out your vote. I get it. In Virginia’s 2020 election, independents made up just 10% of voters (Virginia Department of Elections, 2020). But influence isn’t only about ballots. It’s about conversations, local advocacy, backing candidates who break the mold. In a closely divided world, 10% can sway an election—look at Virginia’s 2021 governor’s race, decided by less than 2% (Virginia Department of Elections, 2021). Maine’s ranked-choice voting, adopted in 2018, has amplified independent voices—third-party candidates gained 15% more votes in 2020 (FairVote, 2023). Small shifts can move mountains.

Others claim “voting for character” ignores structural barriers like gerrymandering or party funding. They’re not wrong. OpenSecrets.org data shows 90% of 2022 congressional races went to the bigger spender (OpenSecrets, 2023). Still, character shapes how leaders navigate those constraints. A principled official can push reform. Virginia’s 2021 redistricting commission cut gerrymandering—district competitiveness rose 18% in 2022 elections (Virginia Public Access Project, 2023). It’s imperfect progress, but it’s a start.

Some challenge my fiscal stance, arguing that trimming defense risks national security. That’s a valid concern—I don’t take it lightly. Waste exists, though: a 2022 Pentagon audit flagged $220 billion in untracked spending (Department of Defense, 2022). Start there, not with troop cuts—say, by cutting redundant contracts, which saved $10 billion in 2019 alone (GAO, 2020). Others might say redirecting funds to education ignores deeper systemic issues like teacher pay or curriculum gaps. Fair enough. Small reallocations can spark pilot programs—like a STEM initiative in rural Tennessee that boosted graduation rates 12% in 2022 (Tennessee Department of Education, 2023)—while we tackle bigger fights. Accountability trips us up fast. Too many on both sides abuse programs for personal gain.

Public dashboards tracking spending, like Maryland’s OpenBudget platform, cut misuse 9% in 2022 (Maryland Office of Budget Analysis, 2023).

We Have More in Common Than We Think

I don’t hold all the answers. My views may shift with new evidence or hard-earned wisdom. I lean conservative on budgets but socially responsible on healthcare, research, care for the elderly, veterans, and the sick who can’t afford care—especially children. I often think about what makes a nation great. Is it how we treat our poor? A wise man once said, “I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me.” I wrestle with those words—not as a sermon, but as a question of what we owe each other.

I crave honest, respectful discussion that leads to a better life for all our citizens, not just those born into privilege or our modern-day oligarchs. I’ve seen division’s toll and unity’s promise—from southside Virginia’s fields to Seattle’s tech towers. My compass—respecting rights, balancing books, upholding laws equally, giving back, voting for character—steers me through every diner chat and town hall. It’s not about red or blue. It’s about what works for all of us.

Let’s Keep the Conversation Going

I would love to hear your opinion. What’s one local initiative you’ve seen—or been part of—that brought people together across political divides? Maybe it’s a community project, a tough conversation that changed your mind, or a principle you hold dear, whether you’re independent or tied to a party. Share your story in the comments below. Or, if you’re on X, tag me (@EddieAmos) with the hashtag #MessyMiddle. Let’s spark a real discussion—it’s how we find common ground.