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There is a scene early in Grand Canyon (1991) where the car of an immigration lawyer, Mack (played by Kevin Klein) dies in a neighborhood he doesn’t know. He calls for a tow, but in the meantime a group of young men begin harassing him. Danny Glover’s character, Simon, shows up and calmly begins his job, asking about the car, hooking it up to his truck. Then he takes aside Rocstar, the leader of the young men. “Am I talking to the right man?” Skip ahead in the video to about minute 4 to find the scene. The really good part begins with Simon saying, “Man . . .”
Simon : I’ve gotta ask you for a favor. Let me go my way here. This truck’s my responsibility, and now that the car’s hooked up to it, it’s my responsibility too.
Rocstar : Do you think I’m stupid? Just answer that question first.
Simon : Look, I don’t know nothing about you; you don’t know nothing about me. I don’t know if you’re stupid, or some kind of genius. All I know is that I need to get out of here, and you got the gun. So I’m asking you, for the second time, let me go my way here.
Rocstar : I’m gonna grant you that favor, and I’m gonna expect you to remember it if we ever meet again. But tell me this, are you asking me as a sign of respect, or are you asking because I’ve got the gun?
Simon : Man, the world ain’t supposed to work like this. I mean, maybe you don’t know that yet. I’m supposed to be able to do my job without having to ask you if I can. That dude is supposed to be able to wait with his car without you ripping him off. Everything is supposed to be different than it is.
Rocstar : So what’s your answer?
Simon : You ain’t got the gun, we ain’t having this conversation.
Rocstar : That’s what I thought: no gun, no respect. That’s why I always got the gun.
It’s a great film, truly, but if you haven’t ever watched it or haven’t watched it recently, you might assume the story is dated. Stop for a moment, and consider the metaphor working here. [Or better, consider it an analogy, and also be sure to read the first comment below.] A weak person demands respect. Imagine Kim Jong Un is playing the part of Rocstar. A weak actor in a powerful world, striding to bully his way into respect. His position on the world stage makes more sense. [It’s far from moral, but understandable.]
That works, doesn’t it?
Now go the next step. Trump as Rocstar, accustomed to having what he wants by pushing others around? Maybe, except like Kim Jong Un he’s never had to reach for power, it has always belonged to him, a self-promoting, entitled person from the day he was born.
Try this: Maybe see how the concept of leverage and threats plays out with the abuse of any power, with the assumption that a right to act is automatic when there is the capacity to act. I can, therefore I should?
Surely not.
The way I see the lesson: The world is not supposed to work this way. Power is not supposed to trump liberty and justice for all. We are supposed to be better than that. Because we have the strength does not mean it’s moral to bully others. Just because we can.
Or, as my husband likes to joke: Didn’t you ever go to Sunday school? Or Temple, or the Mosque, or to your room for failing to listen to your parents explain why you should be forgiving and kind to others.
Surely someone taught us better?
I hear the voices saying, no, they didn’t. Some people do not operate that way and that’s why the rest of us cannot either. I think we might be wrong there too. We were all taught to behave ethically, only some of us find that inconvenient. Some of us did not listen at all. Some of us even believe our reasons or excuses for our deplorable actions. We get away with things we shouldn’t and then decide that getting away with evil makes it okay.
Getting away with it does not make it right.
The Grand Canyon is bigger than we are, grander in every way. Grand beyond our capacity to comprehend. It was born long before we were and should live long after we are gone. It should humble us, engulf our egos, and allow us to regain perspective.












