A few months ago, I knocked on the front door of a house in El Centro while searching for Republicans to interview for a story. An elderly white man opened the main door of the house but left the screen door closed. I struggled to see him through the screen door's mesh. I told him I was a journalist hoping to learn about his political views, and that I couldn't see him very well. "That's the point," he told me.
He seemed angry. He said President Joe Biden was a "dumbass," adding: "We need to hunt down all the illegals and get them the hell out of this country!" I asked: "Hunt them down?" He said: "Hunt them down!" As I struggled to understand his perspective by asking more questions, he became more and more condescending: "Don't you read? Don't you understand history?" As I was responding that I'd been reporting on the border since Obama was president, he interrupted: "Obama was a dumbass n—."
I ended the interview. What was the point of continuing a conversation with a man so unabashed in his bigotry? This man, I thought, was a threat to me and people I love. He clearly felt the same about me. We weren't alone in our grim judgments. Most Americans today see other Americans as threats. A plurality believe other Americans are the No. 1 threat to their way of life, according to a CBS News/YouGov poll released last summer. In the fall, an NBC News poll found that 80% of Democrats and Republicans believe political opposition "poses a threat that, if not stopped, will destroy America as we know it."
