Cherishing ‘Monoculture’ Moments
On Monday, April 8, much of the country experienced a total solar eclipse. I happen to live in one of the lucky cities in the “path of totality,” so we had a front-row seat to an absolutely awe-inspiring moment.
A little after 1:30 p.m. on Monday afternoon, we all witnessed the world dim, the air hush, and the sun transform into a breathtaking corona. For a few, incredible minutes, we were in darkness, except for the streetlights that briefly flickered on. The traffic noise stopped, because who would want to be driving during such a moment?
It was an experience that simply demanded connection. For the next week or so, everybody I talked to, from the cashier and the barista to friends and neighbors, wanted to share notes and talk about those few minutes when the world seemed to stop.
Then it dawned on me that the eclipse was a rarity in 2024 — something we all (or, at least, everybody in the path of totality) experienced at the same time. It was an example of what’s now called the monoculture: those elements of our culture that everybody experiences.
Curated Realities
With algorithms dictating what news we see, what music we listen to, and even what friends we hear from on social media, we have vanishingly few monoculture moments these days. Whether we mean to or not, we live in veritable echo chambers, isolated in our own curated realities.
The recent death of O.J. Simpson transported us back to 1995, when he led police on a low-speed chase in the infamous white Ford Bronco. (Fun fact: the infamy of that chase led Ford to discontinue making the Bronco for several years.) Pretty much every American who was alive in 1995 watched that chase.
It’s one of those “where were you” moments in American history that everybody stopped, pulled up a chair, and experienced in real-time. Some of those moments were fascinating, like the 1969 moon landing; some were tragic, like Sept. 11, 2001; and some were bittersweet, like the 1983 finale of M*A*S*H.
Experiencing the eclipse made me realize how much I missed those monoculture moments that transcend social and political divides and remind us that we’re all pretty much the same and part of something bigger.
Mini-Monoculture Moments
I may not have the power to create global shared experiences, such as an eclipse or a moon landing, but the eclipse has prompted me to seek out some reasonable facsimiles: local heritage festivals, volunteering for a cause that unites diverse groups, or simply participating in a collective act of kindness.
One suggestion: if your town has a WNBA team, now would be a great time to buy tickets to their upcoming season. Spurred by the jaw-dropping Caitlin Clark, women’s basketball is having a moment, and with good reason. It’s fun to watch and (thus far) devoid of the massive egos that have taken over many other sports. Plus, it’s a bargain, because women athletes are so tragically underpaid. But if enough of us show up, and keep showing up, we might be able to narrow that pay gap (even if it might mean higher ticket prices).
Granted, attending basketball games or the local Greek festival may not have the same universality or prompt the same awe as a total solar eclipse, they nevertheless give us a chance to step outside ourselves and connect with something bigger. They remind us of our shared humanity, of the awe-inspiring world we inhabit, and the simple joy of experiencing something together, even if just for a brief moment.
#OnlyJoy