I had the good fortune of meeting CNN’s Van Jones recently.
Now, I’ve never been one to get all excited to meet a celebrity, but I always admired Jones for his rare ability to hold space for more than one group of people at a time while the rest of us are at each other’s throats.
There aren’t many of us, especially television talking heads, who are able to see the humanity in all people. Or to say what’s on their mind and speak the truth regardless of whether it will help or hurt their public image.
Not so for Jones.
To be sure, Jones is liberal. His values and policy preferences bend left toward love, respect, dignity, and peace.
But those values are in service to the broad goals of justice and humanity for all, not just the select few groups who fit nicely under the Democratic Party or other political banner.
That’s why, when West Virginia miners, who had spent decades a mile below the ground digging coal so we could keep our lights on — all at the high risk of contracting black lung disease — Jones marched with them when their employer destroyed their pension.
These were white, lower-middle-class, blue-collar Trump voters. But they had been wronged. Unjustly. Pensions that they had saved for their entire lives were gone.
To Jones, it didn’t matter who they voted for. Or their skin color. What mattered was that their entire pensions were stolen. The money their families needed to survive.
It hit Jones extra hard when a coal miner’s wife explained to him why he was met with mostly silence when he tried to fire up the crowd of protesting miners, many carting around oxygen tanks.
They couldn’t respond to Jones’s chants. Their lungs weren’t capable.
It was the same way Jones sprang into action when Jared Kushner, who had tried to get Jones fired from CNN because he criticized his brittle-boned father-in-law too much, called Jones about the broken prison system. Jones cared more about impact than refusing to talk to someone on the “other side.”
Jared’s father, Charles Kushner, had spent two years in federal prison for illegal campaign contributions, tax evasion, and witness tampering. Jared explained to Jones the problems his father faced in prison. How horrific the experience was for his father. Despite their wealth. Jared wanted to address that problem.
As a result, with Jones’s relentless work, Jared got Trump to sign legislation that freed 40,000 mostly Black, non-violent prisoners being held on decades-old non-violent drug crimes. The legislation also required the prison system to provide programs with productive activities to reduce recidivism. The two put aside their vast differences to accomplish something important.
Impact.
It wasn’t that Jones was suddenly a fan of Trump. He wasn’t then, and he’s even less of a fan now, given all of Trump’s unabated chaos. It’s just that Jones is clear about what matters most.
For him, it’s less about who each person voted for and more about what we can do to solve our problems.
Even on the very hot-button issue of the war in Gaza, Jones has the rare yet unpopular capacity to show love and care for Jews and Palestinians alike. Something most of us can’t seem to do. Most are either advocating “Bomb Hamas into oblivion at any cost” or “Down with Israel and Jews at all costs.” Without much space to care for the other.
Jones, like his late father Willie, decided long ago he doesn’t need to choose between loving one group or the other, or hating one or the other, even while he mourns the loss of life.
There’s an urgent lesson Jones is teaching us. And we ought to heed his call now.
That if we don’t learn to hold grace and space for each other. That if we can’t learn to talk about things. Work on things together. Roll up our sleeves and problem solve. All because we’re too angry at whoever’s in charge.
Then there’s not much hope for America.
Jones isn’t suggesting we just give awful policies or lawlessness a free pass. Or that we sit around and sing Kumbaya while the government is rapid-fire dismantling any semblance of diversity and justice. Jones is a justice fighter.
But he’s teaching us that we ought to be able to care more about each other’s well-being than we do about our neighbors’ voting preferences.
It’s a tough ask. But if we can’t meet the challenge, there’s worse in store for us and our children.
This post originally appeared on Medium and is edited and republished with author's permission. Read more of Jeffrey Kass' work on Medium.