Secondhand Sun

Local Democrats were excited about the selection of Jim Webb to give the Democratic response to the State of the Union address. We bumped up the time of our meeting last night so that we could go to a bar together afterwards and watch. They gave us the whole back room, and free chicken wings, and we ate and drank and critiqued the president. And then we fell silent when it was Jim Webb's turn. And then he said this.

On both of these vital issues, our economy and our national security, it falls upon those of us in elected office to take action.

Regarding the economic imbalance in our country, I am reminded of the situation President Theodore Roosevelt faced in the early days of the 20th century. America was then, as now, drifting apart along class lines. The so-called robber barons were unapologetically raking in a huge percentage of the national wealth. The dispossessed workers at the bottom were threatening revolt.

Roosevelt spoke strongly against these divisions. He told his fellow Republicans that they must set themselves as resolutely against improper corporate influence on the one hand as against demagogy and mob rule on the other. And he did something about it.

As I look at Iraq, I recall the words of former general and soon-to-be President Dwight Eisenhower during the dark days of the Korean War, which had fallen into a bloody stalemate. "When comes the end?" asked the general who had commanded our forces in Europe during World War II. And as soon as he became president, he brought the Korean War to an end.

These presidents took the right kind of action, for the benefit of the American people and for the health of our relations around the world. Tonight we are calling on this president to take similar action, in both areas. If he does, we will join him. If he does not, we will be showing him the way.

And the room erupted. You should have heard them roar.

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I've been visiting family; it's good. But this morning, when I was sitting on the couch bouncing with excitement over the news of John Edwards' announcement of his presidential candidacy, my brother and my cousins started discussing Hillary Clinton. "Is Hillary running?" A. (female) asked. "She hasn't officially announced yet, but she's raised a ton of money," I answered. "She's running, all right," one of the guys said, making it sound almost as ominous as, "It looks like cancer."

"Good," said A., causing general surprise - she's not a Democrat, at least not publicly.

"Why do you want her to run?" asked C., her sister's boyfriend.

"Because!" A. answered. "We need a woman in charge of things."

"Not /that/ woman," came the immediate response from another of the guys, but C. was eyeing A. with a poisonous look. "Are you a lesbian or something?" he demanded.

A. was offended. "No. Why?" she shot back.

C. shrugged. "I'm just wondering what your big attraction is to women."

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This is the problem I have, and probably will continue to have, with this upcoming presidential primary season. So much of the opposition to Hillary Clinton is rooted in outright hatred of women that I feel dirty just thinking about supporting someone else. (And I think about it a lot. I like John Edwards.) A lot of feminist bloggers oppose Hillary Clinton, but that doesn't help me out, because when their commenters agree, it's always with the same misogynist undertones.

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The AP has called the Virginia Senate race for Jim Webb.

In November 1994 I was seventeen years old; I was a senior in high school. I woke up the morning after the election and ran to get the paper. My father was at the kitchen table drinking his coffee. I picked up the paper, took one look at the headline, and threw it across the room. I don't remember the exact words I used, but they were foul enough to draw a rebuke from my father. "It's not going to matter," he told me. "This isn't something that's going to make a difference in our everyday lives."

It's been a long twelve years.

During that time I've learned what it's like to be poor, to have to search through cushions for bus money to get to work - and on getting there to find that you didn't have a job anymore, so sorry, we did call you this morning to tell you, why are you here? I've been paid less than minimum wage and stuffed myself at events that offered free food so that I wouldn't need supper later. I've learned what it's like to have pneumonia and be turned away at the doctor's office because you don't have $90 cash to give them up front. I've seen bigotry against women, minorities, and gays enshrined in law and enforced through public policy.

It's been a long twelve years.

Politics is a ripe breeding ground for cheesy rhetorical imagery. I'm sure it's the emotion of the day and not the power of the words that burned Tom Daschle's concession speech of November 3rd, 2004 into my memory. He said that he'd seen the sun set over the mall in Washington, DC (I have too, and from a plane no less - a breathtaking sight) and that he'd seen the sun rise over Mount Rushmore - and that he liked sunrises better than sunsets. As I was telling a friend the other day, I like sunsets best: they're pretty, and you have to get up far, far too early to see the sun rise, unless it's winter, and in the winter it's too cold.

There is no sunset I've ever been gladder to see than the metaphorical one that marks the end of the rule of these Republicans who launched themselves to power by stomping on our best hope to bring healthcare to everyone, and whose latest electoral push has been based on the idea that people with accents and brown skin should be automatically denied the opportunity to participate fully in society. And yet I'm uncertain - it's hard to imagine what this new day will look like. It's been such a very long twelve years.

I'm daring to let myself hope that it's over now. But I know too that my work has not yet ended. This victory is a tool not an end; we will have to use it to further fight for justice and create the world we want. I'm ready to begin.

Oh, and thanks, D.C. United - I'd definitely rather have this than the MLS Cup.

Posted by Joanna at 10:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

DC United lost to New England in the Eastern Conference Final last night, and I'm far more disappointed - crushed, even - than I ever expected to be. I woke up this morning too miserable even to give Anna a game report the way I usually do first thing. She's got a lot of empathy for a five-year-old; I think she caught on pretty quickly that I was upset about the loss, and left it be. She's a good kid. I gave her the report at bedtime, with full props to Twellman for his goal (and leaving out the saltier editorial comments; she is only five) and the tale of how the stunned crowd came alive again, in fits and starts; how Ben Olsen, as always, never ever quit; how Freddy almost scored. Over and over again someone almost scored, but it never happened. "That's really sad!" Anna said. Yes, yes, I agreed; I told her how much I'd wanted to see us play for the MLS Cup. That wasn't what she meant, though: "Now there won't be any more games until spring!" A child after my own heart. No, there won't, and that's sad too - but, I explained, we do get to start earlier than the other teams because we're playing in the CONCACAF tournament. Apparently "CONCACAF" is a funny enough sounding word to cheer up a five-year-old. Would that it worked on me.

But tomorrow is Election Day. In a way, it's like that scene from the movie Fever Pitch, when the Hornby character consoles one of the students on the soccer team he coaches after the kid just missed a PK that lost the game for his team.

Paul Ashworth: If you had to choose between winning this afternoon and Arsenal winning tomorrow night, what would you go for?
Robert: Tomorrow night of course!
Paul Ashworth: There you go then.
Robert: What, you're telling me, Arsenal are gonna win two nil at Anfield?
Paul Ashworth: I can't promise, can I? Well, there's a chance isn't there? You've done your bit, you've missed the penalty. If that's what it takes then it'll be worth it.
Robert: Yeah, course.

If I had to choose between DC United winning the MLS Cup and the Democrats taking back Congress tomorrow, my answer would come just as easily - tomorrow, of course! And, United's done their bit; they got knocked out of the final, so...

So I'm going to go to bed, because I'll be up at 4:30 am tomorrow, if I sleep at all. My volunteers are all confirmed, the car is packed with all my supplies, and I'm jumpier than... something very, very jumpy. The jumpiest thing you can think of. I'm jumpier than that.

Election Day is tomorrow! And tomorrow, we shall see.

Posted by Joanna at 10:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Ronald Reagan was the first president whose term of office I remember. My parents didn’t like him, so I didn’t like him either. John Hinckley’s attempt on Reagan’s life is one of my earliest memories – I was barely two years old, and until I was several years older I was unable to understand why my mother was crying for a president she didn’t like and hadn’t voted for. After all, if the president dies, you get a new president!

Not liking Reagan marked my family as different from most other families in our small Louisiana town, and not in a good way. It isolated us, so much so that as a child, with my confidence and my sense of who I was less than fully formed, I found it easy to fall into the trap of wondering if it was really okay to hold a political opinion different from the prevailing norm. I grew up as part of a political minority, but outside my home I rarely felt that I was part of anything. Among my schoolmates and friends, I was completely alone.

The presidential election of 1984 was the first in which I was aware enough to know what was going on. My second grade class held a mock election. We were told about it a day or two ahead of time so that we could talk with our classmates about who we were voting for and why. I supported Mondale, naturally, because my parents did. But then some miniature Karl Rove among us spread the rumor that a classmate’s Evil Liberal Democrat parents had tried to rig the election by threatening to take all her toys away if she voted for Reagan. All of us were incensed when we heard that – it was a grave offense against our sense of fair play. And so Reagan carried my second grade class, thirty-something votes to one. No, the dissenting vote was not mine. I have always regretted it.

Continue reading "A Minority of One" »

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