I've been thinking about the upcoming election a lot, and hearing a lot on the news about Hurricane Sandy and its aftermath. And I keep being reminded of this clip.
When I first saw that, way back in 2005, I was tickled at Kanye's blunt honesty (also Mike Meyers' dumbstruck face and let's-stick-to-the-script Canadian determination). It was like someone finally announced that the emperor had no clothes. And I laughed fiercely, because I felt so rundown by that administration. Thankfully, lessons have been learned since Katrina and recovery from Sandy seems to be going slowly, but well. And the differences in political contexts seem all bound up in that.
I recall the day after Bush was re-elected, and it was like a day of mourning on my college campus. There were teach-ins, everyone was moping, and I made a t-shirt bearing an Audre Lorde quote: "Your silence will not protect you." I was young, liberal, and felt very much on the fringes of society by circumstance and by choice. And I was afraid.
I remember the night Obama was elected. Gathered with friends in a cozy kitchen, we held each others' hands tightly, listening to radios, watching updates from our laptops, making tense jokes and calling out each favorable poll and electoral vote. When things looked inevitably positive for our candidate, we trooped to the local bar where our friendly neighborhood DJ was methodically coloring in states on a big white board. There were more blue than red, and when the election was officially called, the whole place went up in a cheer. Crowded by the pool table, hugging my friends so desperately, felt great. It felt like the country had accomplished something, and the next day would dawn on a brand-new society.
Well, not so much. Politics is politics, and sausage-making and dirty dealing and hiding funding cuts in non-related bills. Business as usual. But a year or two ago, after listening to some story on the radio about presidential politics, I realized that I had been freed from that pervasive fear that had hold of me in my college years. The fear that myself and my friends like me were in danger -- of losing our ability to make choices about our health, our educational opportunities. Afraid that the freedoms we enjoyed and the beautiful world we lived in would be snatched away, wore out, locked up, before we got the chance to fully grow up in it and take the reins for ourselves. Over the past four years, it's felt like we're slowly -- excruciatingly slowly -- making changes that can be positive in the world. And most of all, like we're making those changes with the support of some of those in power, instead of working against a tide of greed and bigotry.
Which is not to say that it's all sunshine and rainbows. When people in power can reference "legitimate rape" as a 'fact' and not get laughed out of the conversation and thrown out of society -- when members of the congressional science advisory committee ignore actual science and still expect to hold their jobs -- when a presidential contender can run on a platform that includes rolling back women's hard-won rights 39 years -- when these extreme (and extremely ignorant) views are a common part of the conversation, everything isn't all right.
But I don't want to go back to that fear again. I want to have faith and pride in my country and its processes. Even if things aren't perfect, I'd like it to be true that there are people working with ethical intentions and broad perspectives to fix what's broken in a way that helps the most people, instead of just the most powerful people.
Please go vote tomorrow, if you haven't already. Please be informed when you do so, and be proud of fulfilling this right and obligation for your community. Please don't stop talking to people who disagree with you. Please keep working in your communities to fix those problems you do see, and help those people you can.
Please don't stop holding the hands of people that you love in times of worry, and in times of joy. Hopefully tomorrow will be the latter.
When I first saw that, way back in 2005, I was tickled at Kanye's blunt honesty (also Mike Meyers' dumbstruck face and let's-stick-to-the-script Canadian determination). It was like someone finally announced that the emperor had no clothes. And I laughed fiercely, because I felt so rundown by that administration. Thankfully, lessons have been learned since Katrina and recovery from Sandy seems to be going slowly, but well. And the differences in political contexts seem all bound up in that.
I recall the day after Bush was re-elected, and it was like a day of mourning on my college campus. There were teach-ins, everyone was moping, and I made a t-shirt bearing an Audre Lorde quote: "Your silence will not protect you." I was young, liberal, and felt very much on the fringes of society by circumstance and by choice. And I was afraid.
I remember the night Obama was elected. Gathered with friends in a cozy kitchen, we held each others' hands tightly, listening to radios, watching updates from our laptops, making tense jokes and calling out each favorable poll and electoral vote. When things looked inevitably positive for our candidate, we trooped to the local bar where our friendly neighborhood DJ was methodically coloring in states on a big white board. There were more blue than red, and when the election was officially called, the whole place went up in a cheer. Crowded by the pool table, hugging my friends so desperately, felt great. It felt like the country had accomplished something, and the next day would dawn on a brand-new society.
Well, not so much. Politics is politics, and sausage-making and dirty dealing and hiding funding cuts in non-related bills. Business as usual. But a year or two ago, after listening to some story on the radio about presidential politics, I realized that I had been freed from that pervasive fear that had hold of me in my college years. The fear that myself and my friends like me were in danger -- of losing our ability to make choices about our health, our educational opportunities. Afraid that the freedoms we enjoyed and the beautiful world we lived in would be snatched away, wore out, locked up, before we got the chance to fully grow up in it and take the reins for ourselves. Over the past four years, it's felt like we're slowly -- excruciatingly slowly -- making changes that can be positive in the world. And most of all, like we're making those changes with the support of some of those in power, instead of working against a tide of greed and bigotry.
Which is not to say that it's all sunshine and rainbows. When people in power can reference "legitimate rape" as a 'fact' and not get laughed out of the conversation and thrown out of society -- when members of the congressional science advisory committee ignore actual science and still expect to hold their jobs -- when a presidential contender can run on a platform that includes rolling back women's hard-won rights 39 years -- when these extreme (and extremely ignorant) views are a common part of the conversation, everything isn't all right.
But I don't want to go back to that fear again. I want to have faith and pride in my country and its processes. Even if things aren't perfect, I'd like it to be true that there are people working with ethical intentions and broad perspectives to fix what's broken in a way that helps the most people, instead of just the most powerful people.
Please go vote tomorrow, if you haven't already. Please be informed when you do so, and be proud of fulfilling this right and obligation for your community. Please don't stop talking to people who disagree with you. Please keep working in your communities to fix those problems you do see, and help those people you can.
Please don't stop holding the hands of people that you love in times of worry, and in times of joy. Hopefully tomorrow will be the latter.
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