I have sent the following letter in response to an L.A. TIMES editorial. If language shapes our thinking, grammar shapes the framework in which our thinking takes place. We are at a crossroads where narrative meets process, where past, present, and future meet the eternal present, surrounded by infinite possibilities. I send this to you in hopes that it resonates with your thinking.

I look forward to reading your responses.

Jonah Goldberg in “Obama’s rhetoric, American realities” is right to raise the issue of whether a diverse community with a history of individual grievances could come to the same table to plan together for their common future. Quoting Robert Putnam, author of “Bowling Alone,” he says, “In the presence of diversity, we hunker down,” and he interprets this lack of “social trust” as possibly being a form of “realism.” As a teacher of English, I respect our realistic inclination to challenge other people’s thinking by saying, “Yes, but . . . ,” “So what!,” and “Oh, yeah? What makes you think so? How do you know?” These challenges, based on logical conditions of sufficient grounds, relevance, and acceptability, are filters that protect us from intellectual pollution. The question is whether our filtration system gets so clogged with lack of basic trust that it never lets any new information get through. Do our histories and personal grievances get in the way of being realistic? What makes Obama such an agent of change is that he has found a way to move us beyond ourselves.

Grammar provides us with two frames through which we view our lives. Scientific, or process, paragraphs are written in the eternal present: We do this, then do that to bring about a desired result. Historic, or narrative, paragraphs are written in the past tense, exploring how the past affects the present and could repeat itself in the future. Most of us a pleased to imagine ourselves in the eternal present for we are never lost in the here and now and the possibilities before us are infinite. Our decisions, therefore, are guided by hope. When we think of the harm we have suffered in the past and contemplate how we might continue to be harmed in the future, our decisions in the present are guided by fear.

Because Obama is a pluralist, honoring all groups and all proposals and setting criteria for discerning which ideas are presently acceptable, he is about process, not about grievance. People who come to the table may carry resentments, but, relevant though they may be to evaluating the worth of a plan, they are subsumed by the criteria agreed upon by all. Obama has already shown us how this process works. In the pre-Nevada caucus debate, John Edwards challenged him on his willingness to include the nuclear power industry in negotiating our energy policy. He said the history of the nuclear industry showed it could not be trusted. Obama countered by saying that one of the conditions for any energy plan is that it must be safe. So far, the nuclear industry has not shown itself to be able to dispose nuclear waste safely. Edwards agreed, then, that their positions were essentially the same. Excluding the nuclear power industry from the table would not be fair. Telling the nuclear industry that it must meet certain safety criteria is straight-forward and honest.

Politics of the past has been based on excluding people and proposals from the table. Obama’s way of thinking is new on the American and international scene. Its newness makes it hard for us to understand. But, it is inherent in the very language we use that shapes our thinking. It is what makes Obama a uniter, not a divider. That’s why we trust him to serve as our agent of change.