Paul Turner: The ‘reach’ is a grasp at hope we all need in these polarized times

We live in polarized times.

Everybody knows that.

It seems as if it would be impossible to overstate the extent to which public issues and attitudes bitterly divide us. Examples abound. You don’t need to see a list.

But as we knock on the door of Thursday’s Winter Solstice, it’s worth remembering there’s still a fleeting moment that reveals our unified human nature. At least in northern burgs like Spokane.

We see it when one of us slips on some ice or loses footing in the slush and falls.

It’s the reach.

No doubt, a gesture you’ve seen many times.

Someone will wipe out on a sidewalk and at least a few of those nearby will react with an empathetic reflex. Chances are, you have done it yourself.

Too late, you reach a hand toward the fallen fellow as if to steady him and avert the bruising triumph of mean old man gravity.

It’s kind of like demonstrating your Old West quick draw, without the gun.

I love that futile impulse. It gives me hope.

I love that no one ever asks the falling individual about his or her politics before aiming a helping hand toward the unstoppable mishap. We just react. In that split-second, we’re all in this together.

“This” being whatever you choose: Life, winter, the existential challenges of December in Spokane …

Sometimes your heart being in the right place counts. “The reach” suggests there is no litmus test for decency.

I recognize this is setting the bar pretty low for exultations of the human spirit. But if, like many of us, you spend a fair amount of time dismayed by certain other people, reaching too late to help a stranger suggests all is not lost.

That’s because, though we are social animals, I don’t believe it’s an instinct. It’s something we learn.

Caring for others is what we do. Right?

Now, some of us have better records of follow-through than others. But in that moment when we see someone fall down on a patch of ice like a sack of potatoes dropped from the roof, most of us aspire to do the right thing.

We reach to help. Then wince at the sight of another crumpled victim of the season.

Maybe that’s not much. But in an era when the vile vocabulary of rancor passes for everyday discourse, it’s a start.

Of course, there are exceptions. As you have doubtless observed while driving across town or waiting in line for an espresso, not all of us possess the give-a-rip-about-others inclination.

If you have ever tended to a fallen person in an icy parking lot while the store manager comes out and wordlessly starts spreading salt and shifting into soulless CYA mode, you might know what I mean.

A little human compassion is always welcome. That’s what we see all across the Inland Northwest this time of year.

Still, is “the reach” more than a metaphor for too little,too late caring and concern?

Perhaps it really is, because it often leads to checking on the person who has fallen.

Usually the individual surprised to suddenly be sprawled on the pavement is OK, just shook up and embarrassed. But there’s value to having others come over and ask, “Are you all right?”

In that moment, strangers become something kinder, something more like family.

Before offering to help someone up, nobody asks “Do you believe in climate change?” or “Do college football coaches salaries offend you?”

We say, “Are you all right?”

Nobody argues with the supine individual about whether to greet people with “Merry Christmas” or “Happy holidays.”

We say, “Are you all right?”

And because someone bothered to stop and check, it’s just a little bit easier to answer, “Yes, I’m OK.”