Politics banned at sword club near Pittsburgh: NPR

Over the past few years, and throughout this year’s contentious campaign that is rooted in America’s deep divisions, the way people talk to each other has become coarser. We wanted to explore how some people are trying to bridge the gap. We asked NPR Network reporters to look for examples of people who are working through their differences. We’re sharing these stories in our “In Search of Common Ground” series.

CLAYTON, Pa. — Two fighters, their faces obscured by stiff black masks, stand several feet apart, swords raised.

They move forward and repeatedly strike their broad, dull metal blades. One combatant punches the other in the chest. When the battle is over, a small crowd of spectators applauds.

Inside this former Catholic church northeast of Pittsburgh, members of the Pittsburgh Sword Fighters club and school gather under an 8-meter-high ceiling flanked by Gothic-style pointed-arch windows.

It’s a tournament and a party called Friday Night Fights.

There are many rules in swordsmanship. But there is one rule that applies after combatants have laid down their weapons. That means don’t talk about politics.

The rule’s evolution began around 2016, when club owner Josh Paris said he was tired of hateful political speech in the United States. Similar to cancel culture, personal attacks were on the rise even within families.

“I couldn’t tolerate the lack of civility between people,” says Parise, who runs a club focused on historic European martial arts.

“Nothing made sense anymore,” he says.

And there were some wannabe swordsmen who came to the club and didn’t treat the others well. Parise had to tell them to get on their horses and leave.

“That’s upsetting to me, so I won’t allow that to happen here,” Parris said.

leave your politics at the door

As club volunteer Kat Rickards watched the match, she said the directive to avoid politics had led to closer relationships within the club.

“I don’t think we’re avoiding big questions or topics in the sense that we’re scared of them,” says Ricos, who works as a technology writer. “I think there’s a mutual understanding here that if one of us is in trouble, we’ll pick each other up right away.”

The club space features medieval and Gothic touches, including a coat of arms, a sculpture of a three-eyed raven, and faux stonework created by Paris himself.

Against the far wall, a custom Dumbledore throne sits atop a false altar. Off to the side is a potluck table and an open bar. The crowd and atmosphere are noticeably chilled considering the main activity.

“We walk up to each other, acknowledge each other, and then we hit each other with big metal sticks,” Paris says with a wry smile.

But divisive political rhetoric can be sharper than the sword here, so it must be left at the club’s big wooden doors. Political prohibitions do exist, although they do not reach the level of, say, the heresy laws of the 15th century.

Parris said students and club members span the political spectrum, from religious conservatives to progressives. He loves seeing them find common ground.

“Not only do we not want people to feel uncomfortable, we don’t want them to bring any luggage,” he says. “Just leave me outside and do my job.”

Teach and learn from fellow combatants

As the tournament began, referees briefed the players, urging them to play by the rules and stay in control to avoid receiving a “red card.”

“These are teachable moments,” the judge says. “We compete in Friday Night Fights to learn and help each other.”

More fighter planes line up. Among them is Todd Rooney, a high school English teacher and longsword instructor.

He puts on his headgear and waits for his name to be called to fight. Rooney has been a member of the Gladiators Club for nearly a decade and appreciates the politics-free zone.

“Because we have those rules here, I get to work and spar and teach and learn from people from all walks of life and all different political affiliations and religious groups,” Rooney says.

And the controlled confrontation of a sword fight, he says, brings a certain clarity.

“We have to treat each other as complete human beings. We have to respect each other,” he says. “And that’s especially important when you’re running into each other with weapons.”