One of my favorite folk anthems from back in the day was Judy Collins’ rendition of Joni Mitchell’s haunting song “Both Sides Now.” Remember it? The song and the singers looked at both sides of clouds, of love, and of life, seeing the duality—the yin and yang—of human existence. Back then, it was still possible to imagine that different—even opposite—perspectives could exist in nature simultaneously. Now, not so much. Sigh…
It’s hard to be in two places at once. My wife and I know this because we maintain homes on both sides of the Chesapeake Bay and we’re forever confusing what’s in the refrigerator of one home or the other. Or we’re transporting items—clothes, food, charging devices—back and forth until we forget something at Home A that we need at Home B. We’re not even sure which place to call “home.” I tend to favor the east side of the Bay; my wife’s roots run deep on the western shore. But we manage. Our situation is resolvable whether by the old-school tactics of negotiation and compromise. Try telling that to the powers that be up on Capitol Hill.
As I write this, the government is still shut down. The President and the Constitution are still at odds with each other. The Supreme Court is as divided as a tennis court. We are so polarized that a conclave of generals and admirals sit in stoney silence while their Commander-in-Chief wanders off into impenetrable claptrap that makes absolutely no sense to anyone. If anyone in their right mind is considering invoking the 25th Amendment, no one says it out loud for fear of retribution. Even Mario Puzo couldn’t have imagined such a Godfather style of governance.
And yet, we have it. I may be old, but I know I wasn’t alive in the 1850s when this nation drifted ever closer to the shoals of civil war. Was the gulf between the states then like the chasm between the red and blue ones now? We know there were families split asunder, brothers turned into enemies, neither side seeing any way to bridge the gap by any means other than bloodshed. There was no possible way to consider opposing sides of an issue then, and there isn’t now. There is simply “my” side which is always the “right” side, or “your” side which is always wrong. There are no longer “both” sides.
I admit it: I fall into this very trap. It is inconceivable to me that one human being cannot choose to love another human being regardless of gender. Or that someone cannot arrive in this country and be made to feel unwelcome. Or that race and/or gender should matter in soldiering or in any other profession, for that matter. But I am fully aware that there are many people who would vehemently disagree with any of those statements. Not “both” sides, just “my” side.
If clouds, love, and life can have two sides, why can’t we? While the extremes may have become irreconcilable, I believe there is sufficient room in the middle, enough space to see both sides. Yes, there are times when traffic on the Bay Bridge is hopelessly snarled. Yes, it’s aggravating and frustrating, but we eventually make it across and arrive home, on one side or the other. Both are good.
I’ll be right back.
Jamie Kirkpatrick is a writer and photographer who lives on both sides of the Chesapeake Bay. His editorials and reviews have appeared in the Washington Post, the Baltimore Sun, the Philadelphia Inquirer, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, the Washington College Alumni Magazine, and American Cowboy Magazine. His most recent novel, “The Tales of Bismuth; Dispatches from Palestine, 1945-1948” explores the origins of the Arab-Israeli conflict. It is available on Amazon and in local bookstores. His newest novel, “The People Game,” hits the market in February, 2026. His website is musingjamie.net.
