Dear Mr. President,
After 365 letters I suppose I should be running out of things to say. Is a year enough distance to gain any perspective on all that has changed and all that still waits to? Tonight I hoped to make sense of it all; the personal and the political, the minutiae, the mundane, the profound, all of the things I've written about this year. As I look back through this year of letters, of one-sided conversations about issues and actions that defined 2010, I don't have any clue what it all means. I am still tired, still frustrated, still impatient with the progress we've made and the way you govern. But I'm still more like the girl I was in November 2008- stone sober and still too drunk off of election night euphoria- than I ever thought I could be. For all of the disappointments and frustration I have been so proud this year to call you my President. I don't imagine your job is easy, nor do I think I could do it better myself. I am often wrong. I am often too emotional. I use far too many commas.
For all of my shortcomings, I am still a voter and still a citizen and still, I believe, entitled to tell you what I think. Personally, I feel that the great tragedy of the disconnect between the people and our government in this country is not the disparity of money or even power but the way we converse. You do not speak or listen to people like me. When you do talk to me it is in form letters and speeches and talking points- language so polished as to be devoid of any real meaning. We do not have frank conversations. We do not hear one another. I listen to your Sunday addresses, your press conferences and your speeches and all I can say I know for sure is what you want me to think or feel, not what you actually think or feel. Perhaps the most important domestic issue is what you called the deficit of trust. This year has shown me, more clearly than I ever might have seen otherwise, how little trust our government has in the people or we have in it and how damaging this deficit is to all involved.
Deep down I still think that you are well-intentioned. If your caution and moderation do not always sit well with my hot head or bleeding heart, I can accept that you at least believe you are doing the right thing. That is what prompted me to vote for you, to phone bank for you, to write you 365 letters and to hope that I might cast my ballot in 2012 for you, again. Beyond your good intentions, I believe that you are capable of great things, that, should you overcome your fear and find the courage to make really the necessary, difficult decisions that will save this country from some of our worst tendencies, you will be re-elected and likely remembered well. I would not say that I'm a person with any tremendous amount of faith in anything, but I do have faith in you. 2010 didn't change that, and I hope to say the same about 2011.
Happy New Year, Mr. President. Good Luck.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
To all of my awesome readers:
Thank you so much for all of your support this year. I will have a much more articulate and coherent reflective piece in the coming days, as well as some suggestions for reading, a bonus letter to President Obama from a guest blogger and information about the Espresso book I'll be making. I hope you all have a fun and safe New Year's Eve! See you in 2011!
Showing posts with label 2012. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2012. Show all posts
Friday, December 31, 2010
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Day 362- Two years later
Dear Mr. President,
It's been two years since Operation Cast Lead, since the Gaza war, since the brutal asymmetrical violence that left thousands dead, injured or homeless. This will likely be my last letter to you about Gaza, at least for 2010. I haven't heard any practical solutions for the people of Gaza from your administration, nor have I heard much in the way of insistence that Israel find an alternative to the utterly unlivable status quo. The peace talks that have now fallen apart, at their most ambitious, their most hopeful, did not include a framework for Gaza. The people of Gaza cannot continue living as they have been, they cannot be expected to raise yet another generation to call a prison camp home. Two years of endless stalemate haven't made Israel safer and they haven't made Gaza any more livable.
I wonder if you have asked yourself how this ends. How it will look when the war is finally over and the lines on the map are final. When every one has a flag and a seat at the UN. What will that entail? What will it look like, how will it be fair, what role will we play? Most importantly- how do we get there? If we already know these things, why aren't we doing it? It will be hard. People will be upset, compromise will not be easy. Friends and allies will be offended and alienated and you will be called any number of nasty names for your trouble. But it has to be done. Progress has to be made. The situation cannot stand.
Looking into 2011 and 2012, I know that re-election will overshadow any foreign policy goals that might not play well on FOX news. I wonder what you would do if no one were watching, if what they said didn't matter, if all the voices were silenced and you had only your own conscience to answer to. At some point, it isn't about the past, it isn't about politics, it isn't even about racism, it's just people; people killing, hurting, starving, oppressing other people and the people who look the other way and let it happen.
I don't want to be one of those people. I don't believe that you do, either.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
It's been two years since Operation Cast Lead, since the Gaza war, since the brutal asymmetrical violence that left thousands dead, injured or homeless. This will likely be my last letter to you about Gaza, at least for 2010. I haven't heard any practical solutions for the people of Gaza from your administration, nor have I heard much in the way of insistence that Israel find an alternative to the utterly unlivable status quo. The peace talks that have now fallen apart, at their most ambitious, their most hopeful, did not include a framework for Gaza. The people of Gaza cannot continue living as they have been, they cannot be expected to raise yet another generation to call a prison camp home. Two years of endless stalemate haven't made Israel safer and they haven't made Gaza any more livable.
I wonder if you have asked yourself how this ends. How it will look when the war is finally over and the lines on the map are final. When every one has a flag and a seat at the UN. What will that entail? What will it look like, how will it be fair, what role will we play? Most importantly- how do we get there? If we already know these things, why aren't we doing it? It will be hard. People will be upset, compromise will not be easy. Friends and allies will be offended and alienated and you will be called any number of nasty names for your trouble. But it has to be done. Progress has to be made. The situation cannot stand.
Looking into 2011 and 2012, I know that re-election will overshadow any foreign policy goals that might not play well on FOX news. I wonder what you would do if no one were watching, if what they said didn't matter, if all the voices were silenced and you had only your own conscience to answer to. At some point, it isn't about the past, it isn't about politics, it isn't even about racism, it's just people; people killing, hurting, starving, oppressing other people and the people who look the other way and let it happen.
I don't want to be one of those people. I don't believe that you do, either.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Friday, December 17, 2010
Day 351- Celery
| The Daily Show With Jon Stewart | Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c | |||
| Exclusive - Mike Huckabee Extended Interview | ||||
| ||||
Dear Mr. President,
Watching The Daily Show last night, I felt like cheering when Mike Huckabee suggested that Democrats were making health benefits for 9/11 first responders a political battle and Jon Stewart retorted "honestly, to their discredit, they haven't." Stewart goes on to compare the situation to the Democrats being handed a feast of a political win on a silver platter and refusing it in order to sit in a corner and eat celery. His entire show seemed to beg the question "hey, where's your outrage now?" of every 9/11-invoking Republican, FOX news pundit and mosque-protesting bigot. Because honoring those who died on (and continue to die from) 9/11 is about more than keeping Islamic community centers outside of a 10-block radius of ground zero. Mr. Stewart, after the rally to restore sanity, forcefully reminded Rachel Maddow that unlike pundits representing real news networks, he doesn't have any skin in the game, he doesn't play so much as shout drunkenly from the stands. I think yesterday's show demonstrated rather clearly why that isn't always true. It must be frustrating to watch a comedian out-articulate you with a message that Democrats ought to have been owning since the Republican filibuster began.
Another silver platter story arrived in the form of the Republican opposition to the International Protecting Girls by Preventing Child Marriage Act of 2010. House Republicans voted against the bill (even some who co-sponsored it) citing fiscal concerns and bizarre fears that such legislation could increase abortions. I just want to tear my hair out at the horrifying logic being used to justify this. Where is the family-values outrage now?
(See that Cat? See the Cradle? )
I understand the desire to live in merry bipartisan bliss, especially now that every one is in the spirit of the holidays. But Jon Stewart is right. Enough celery! Democrats ought to be finding every TV camera they can and repeating some version of the same line about honoring 9/11's heroes and protecting vulnerable children from exploitation in the name of marriage. The race for 2012 starts any day now (if not yesterday) and voters across the country need to know that voting Republican is tantamount to saying it's OK to let 9/11 first responders suffer and struggle and die, that it's OK to quibble about the global gag rule while 12-year old girls are forced to marry men old enough to be their grandfathers.
Put down the celery Mr. President, it's time for a more satisfying entree.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Day 342- Oklahoma makes me hopeless
Dear Mr. President,
One of my final papers is on State Question 755. I would not normally write to you about issues of state government unless it was my own state, but the broader implications of this issue and it's popular support are really getting me down today. As I'm sure you know, State Question 755 would amend Oklahoma's state constitution to prevent courts from considering Shariah or International law when deciding cases. While I have confidence that wiser heads in Federal courts will prevail, it isn't this law, or the effects it would have that bothers me the most.
State Question 755 passed with almost 71% of the vote. Not just a majority but an overwhelming majority of Oklahoma voters were convinced that the threat of Shariah law is dire enough to warrant a constitutional amendment. I believe that many issues have perfectly reasonable people on both sides, that intelligent, rational thinkers exist as both conservatives and liberals. I don't believe that SQ 755 is one of those issues. I will say now (and I don't particularly care if it is disrespectful) that any one who voted for this is either stupid, uneducated, racist or easily manipulated. It really depresses me to know that 70% of Oklahoma's voters fall into that category. It makes me think that maybe public education is even worse off than I'd realized.
Researching this issue has led to reading a number of comments from supporters wearing the modern-day white sheets of internet anonymity. CAIR is a trojan horse, they say, Muslims are evil, they say, Islamic law demands that you beat your wife, force her into a burqa and mutilate your daughter, they say. I wish I was exaggerating but these are all comments I see repeated again and again. I think this must have been what it felt like to be a white American during the era of Jim Crow. I see this pointless, hateful, twisted logic written in to law and supported by the majority and hidden behind fear-mongering and I can't do anything about it. No one wants to listen to reason, no one wants to even hear information that might contradict their beliefs. It's like banging my head against a wall.
I guess I should take comfort in the fact that Jim Crow laws were overturned, the civil rights movement did change a lot of minds and that things did, slowly, get better. Muslims in this country may be the convenient scapegoat of our irrational fear at the moment, but in a few decades or centuries it will get better. What really bothers me is that, even if things have progressively improved for minority groups in America, it seems as though the ignorance and fear that caused the oppression and wrote it into our laws (and even our founding documents) hasn't gone anywhere. We stumble from enemy to enemy without questioning the real problem- our ignorance and our fear.
I don't have anything constructive to offer. The courts will strike down SQ 755 and it will materialize in another form on another ballot in 2012. I want to be cheered by the inevitable triumph of judicial wisdom over popular ignorance, but I'm having a hard time seeing the good in a system that pits one judge against 70% of a state's voters and hopes that the right thing will be done. How do you maintain your own faith in the voters, especially after this year's midterm elections? How do you explain an initiative like 755 passing with such a wide margin of victory?
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
One of my final papers is on State Question 755. I would not normally write to you about issues of state government unless it was my own state, but the broader implications of this issue and it's popular support are really getting me down today. As I'm sure you know, State Question 755 would amend Oklahoma's state constitution to prevent courts from considering Shariah or International law when deciding cases. While I have confidence that wiser heads in Federal courts will prevail, it isn't this law, or the effects it would have that bothers me the most.
State Question 755 passed with almost 71% of the vote. Not just a majority but an overwhelming majority of Oklahoma voters were convinced that the threat of Shariah law is dire enough to warrant a constitutional amendment. I believe that many issues have perfectly reasonable people on both sides, that intelligent, rational thinkers exist as both conservatives and liberals. I don't believe that SQ 755 is one of those issues. I will say now (and I don't particularly care if it is disrespectful) that any one who voted for this is either stupid, uneducated, racist or easily manipulated. It really depresses me to know that 70% of Oklahoma's voters fall into that category. It makes me think that maybe public education is even worse off than I'd realized.
Researching this issue has led to reading a number of comments from supporters wearing the modern-day white sheets of internet anonymity. CAIR is a trojan horse, they say, Muslims are evil, they say, Islamic law demands that you beat your wife, force her into a burqa and mutilate your daughter, they say. I wish I was exaggerating but these are all comments I see repeated again and again. I think this must have been what it felt like to be a white American during the era of Jim Crow. I see this pointless, hateful, twisted logic written in to law and supported by the majority and hidden behind fear-mongering and I can't do anything about it. No one wants to listen to reason, no one wants to even hear information that might contradict their beliefs. It's like banging my head against a wall.
I guess I should take comfort in the fact that Jim Crow laws were overturned, the civil rights movement did change a lot of minds and that things did, slowly, get better. Muslims in this country may be the convenient scapegoat of our irrational fear at the moment, but in a few decades or centuries it will get better. What really bothers me is that, even if things have progressively improved for minority groups in America, it seems as though the ignorance and fear that caused the oppression and wrote it into our laws (and even our founding documents) hasn't gone anywhere. We stumble from enemy to enemy without questioning the real problem- our ignorance and our fear.
I don't have anything constructive to offer. The courts will strike down SQ 755 and it will materialize in another form on another ballot in 2012. I want to be cheered by the inevitable triumph of judicial wisdom over popular ignorance, but I'm having a hard time seeing the good in a system that pits one judge against 70% of a state's voters and hopes that the right thing will be done. How do you maintain your own faith in the voters, especially after this year's midterm elections? How do you explain an initiative like 755 passing with such a wide margin of victory?
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Day 334- The perfect storm
Dear Mr. President,
Call me crazy, but I suspect that most Americans would pay a few cents more for food if it decreases the likelihood that that food doesn't have e. coli, salmonella, or any number of potentially deadly food-borne contaminants. Personally, I'm willing to pay quite a bit more for food that (besides being generally non-toxic) is also produced with as little harm to living things and to the environment as possible. (I know, I know, that's just mind-blowingly leftist of me to say.) So when congress passed the Food Safety Act today (and you applauded them for it) I figured that this would cause little excitement from the right. Turns out I'm not getting any less naive with age, because Glenn Beck called this "criminal" and suggested that "the perfect storm" is upon us and it's time to "close the bunker door."
I have to say, as much as I appreciate Mr. Beck for giving Jon Stewart something funny to do most nights, I'm really underwhelmed by his sustained hysteria. Food safety? REALLY, Mr. Beck? REALLY? The problem, of course, is that no matter how little credibility I may believe Mr. Beck has, people do take him seriously. Lots of people. People I can't dismiss out of hand because some of them are surely related to me, and all of them probably have loved ones who think they are rational enough human beings. And when Mr. Beck uses words like "criminal" and implies that a relatively modest expansion of government oversight for massive national industries that people trust with their health, (and the health of their children,) is tantamount to a natural disaster, well, people who take him seriously are going to get upset.
Mr. Beck's language implies physical, immediate danger. Storms don't think or reason; they destroy. Storms wreak senseless havoc. Instead of engaging in honest discussion about the role of government in agriculture and food production, Mr. Beck wants his audience to panic, to react with fear and instinct and emotion. Because escaping a storm isn't about reasonable discourse it's about survival; it justifies all kinds of conduct that would not otherwise be acceptable.
I think one of the fundamental divides in this country is between those of us who are willing to turn something as benign as a food safety bill (or really any political disagreement) into a harbinger of the apocalypse, and those of us who are committed to more reasonable, saner discussion of the issues. I think that you fall into the latter category, which is why I respect you and, unfortunately, also probably why you "lose" many of the contrived news-cycle battles with the ever-hysterical right. I'm glad that you don't sink to that level, and I like to think that winning re-election won't require it of you.
Then again, I've already demonstrated a really unhealthy amount of naive good faith in people, so maybe you should break out the end days language and start invoking life-or-death stakes for every legislative battle you face. The sky is falling. The sky is falling. The perfect storm is upon us.
Or something.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Call me crazy, but I suspect that most Americans would pay a few cents more for food if it decreases the likelihood that that food doesn't have e. coli, salmonella, or any number of potentially deadly food-borne contaminants. Personally, I'm willing to pay quite a bit more for food that (besides being generally non-toxic) is also produced with as little harm to living things and to the environment as possible. (I know, I know, that's just mind-blowingly leftist of me to say.) So when congress passed the Food Safety Act today (and you applauded them for it) I figured that this would cause little excitement from the right. Turns out I'm not getting any less naive with age, because Glenn Beck called this "criminal" and suggested that "the perfect storm" is upon us and it's time to "close the bunker door."
I have to say, as much as I appreciate Mr. Beck for giving Jon Stewart something funny to do most nights, I'm really underwhelmed by his sustained hysteria. Food safety? REALLY, Mr. Beck? REALLY? The problem, of course, is that no matter how little credibility I may believe Mr. Beck has, people do take him seriously. Lots of people. People I can't dismiss out of hand because some of them are surely related to me, and all of them probably have loved ones who think they are rational enough human beings. And when Mr. Beck uses words like "criminal" and implies that a relatively modest expansion of government oversight for massive national industries that people trust with their health, (and the health of their children,) is tantamount to a natural disaster, well, people who take him seriously are going to get upset.
Mr. Beck's language implies physical, immediate danger. Storms don't think or reason; they destroy. Storms wreak senseless havoc. Instead of engaging in honest discussion about the role of government in agriculture and food production, Mr. Beck wants his audience to panic, to react with fear and instinct and emotion. Because escaping a storm isn't about reasonable discourse it's about survival; it justifies all kinds of conduct that would not otherwise be acceptable.
I think one of the fundamental divides in this country is between those of us who are willing to turn something as benign as a food safety bill (or really any political disagreement) into a harbinger of the apocalypse, and those of us who are committed to more reasonable, saner discussion of the issues. I think that you fall into the latter category, which is why I respect you and, unfortunately, also probably why you "lose" many of the contrived news-cycle battles with the ever-hysterical right. I'm glad that you don't sink to that level, and I like to think that winning re-election won't require it of you.
Then again, I've already demonstrated a really unhealthy amount of naive good faith in people, so maybe you should break out the end days language and start invoking life-or-death stakes for every legislative battle you face. The sky is falling. The sky is falling. The perfect storm is upon us.
Or something.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Friday, November 12, 2010
Day 316-Really bad advice
Dear Mr. President,
Today I saw an op-ed in the Washington Post by two men who claim to be Democrats who don't think you should run for re-election in 2012. (I say "claim to be" because there is some question about their actual party affiliation.) I should probably remind every one that I'm not a professional political operative. I don't exactly have the resumé to argue with these hacks. But I think this is just about the worst advice I've heard any one offer you in a while.
I don't think that removing yourself now from the 2012 campaign would, as these pundits suggest, force the republicans in congress to make concessions. I think that backing down now would be the ultimate sign of defeat. Republicans would sieze the opportunity to legislate like they controlled all three branches of government. And I don't say this as a political expert (which I am not) but as a girl who has only gone on first dates for basically an entire year (which I am.) I go on first dates, and sometimes guys just aren't into me, and sometimes I'm just not into them, and sometimes circumstances just aren't right for the two of us. But this doesn't mean I give up entirely on the prospect of dating or ever finding some one to love me. Some of your decisions haven't been popular, some of what the country thinks it wants (social services funded by magic instead of taxes!) isn't what you're able or willing to give and some of your problems are just circumstance.
Running in 2012 demonstrates that you're not looking to escape because it's hard. It is what separates you from Sarah Palin (besides, of course, your grasp of the English language, basic knowledge of geography, economics and history.) To give up would be to tell voters, for sure, that Democrats aren't cut out for leading the country during challenging times. I have no idea who these strategists are or why they are so deluded as to think that appeasing the unreasonable demands of republican leaders is the best way to secure bipartisan cooperation, but I sincerely hope they are not people who get taken seriously in any official capacity.
Mr. President, I have disagreed with many of your decisions as President. I have my issues with your policy compromises and many of your centrist ideas. But I would rather see you in office in 2012 than any Republican. I want to see you listen ultimately to your own values and instincts and not to opinion polls and political pundits, to govern ambitiously and unapologetically, and with the courage of your convictions. ( I would also like you to be able to govern for a while longer without having to worry about reelection, but that ship sailed.)
You've got my vote in 2012, sir. Of the two of us, you're probably the more likely to make the most of a second date.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Today I saw an op-ed in the Washington Post by two men who claim to be Democrats who don't think you should run for re-election in 2012. (I say "claim to be" because there is some question about their actual party affiliation.) I should probably remind every one that I'm not a professional political operative. I don't exactly have the resumé to argue with these hacks. But I think this is just about the worst advice I've heard any one offer you in a while.
I don't think that removing yourself now from the 2012 campaign would, as these pundits suggest, force the republicans in congress to make concessions. I think that backing down now would be the ultimate sign of defeat. Republicans would sieze the opportunity to legislate like they controlled all three branches of government. And I don't say this as a political expert (which I am not) but as a girl who has only gone on first dates for basically an entire year (which I am.) I go on first dates, and sometimes guys just aren't into me, and sometimes I'm just not into them, and sometimes circumstances just aren't right for the two of us. But this doesn't mean I give up entirely on the prospect of dating or ever finding some one to love me. Some of your decisions haven't been popular, some of what the country thinks it wants (social services funded by magic instead of taxes!) isn't what you're able or willing to give and some of your problems are just circumstance.
Running in 2012 demonstrates that you're not looking to escape because it's hard. It is what separates you from Sarah Palin (besides, of course, your grasp of the English language, basic knowledge of geography, economics and history.) To give up would be to tell voters, for sure, that Democrats aren't cut out for leading the country during challenging times. I have no idea who these strategists are or why they are so deluded as to think that appeasing the unreasonable demands of republican leaders is the best way to secure bipartisan cooperation, but I sincerely hope they are not people who get taken seriously in any official capacity.
Mr. President, I have disagreed with many of your decisions as President. I have my issues with your policy compromises and many of your centrist ideas. But I would rather see you in office in 2012 than any Republican. I want to see you listen ultimately to your own values and instincts and not to opinion polls and political pundits, to govern ambitiously and unapologetically, and with the courage of your convictions. ( I would also like you to be able to govern for a while longer without having to worry about reelection, but that ship sailed.)
You've got my vote in 2012, sir. Of the two of us, you're probably the more likely to make the most of a second date.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Day 301- Undecided
Dear Mr. President,
Tonight Rasmussen released another poll showing Dino Rossi pulling ahead. I'm pretty much in a state of panic, even as I continue to console myself with the frequent inaccuracy of Rasmussen's polls. Paul Krugman's Op-ed isn't making me much calmer. I'm terrified of the results we'll find on election day, and even more so of the resulting legislative agenda. Keith Olbermann's recent comment on the Tea Party articulated the fears that many of us on the left are experiencing this year.
But polls and pundit comments aside, this midterm should have people scared. Every election, about this time, I start marveling at the very idea of undecided voters. I feel so strongly about politics that I can't even date Republicans; and I may not be able to stand them, but I at least respect the passion that I see in my friends on the right. It is undecided voters, swing voters, people who seem to change their entire value system (or not understand how that value system is represented by their vote) every 2-4 years who confuse me. It baffles me. How can a voter who clearly understood the problems with the Bush administration (and the candidates who wanted to continue them) just two years ago suddenly be confused about who to vote for? It seems to me that the center has long been controlled by the most willfully disengaged, and the fact that they're the ones who get to decide so many elections frustrates me to no end.
I don't think that congressional Democrats are entirely blameless. Between the cowardly ones who are now running away from the party's agenda in their ads, and the cowardly ones who never had the guts to defend that agenda in the first place, it is really difficult to see why Democrats are a viable alternative to the bad ideas of Republicans. While I don't think that a disillusionment with Democrats justifies a vote for Republicans, unfortunately the two-party system (and the increasing similarity in the way the parties take money from corporations) leaves many voters feeling that this is the best solution.
Personally, I've been proud to be a Democrat lately. Watching you and Senator Murray and Governor Gregoire speak, meeting President Carter, watching you make such a compelling case for your administration's accomplishments on The Daily Show last night, all of it has restored the pride I thought I'd lost in my party. I hope that the predictions and the polls are wrong. I hope that Democrats get two more years to prove that we're not completely spineless. Because, as much as they confuse me, we're probably going to need those undecided voters in 2012.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Tonight Rasmussen released another poll showing Dino Rossi pulling ahead. I'm pretty much in a state of panic, even as I continue to console myself with the frequent inaccuracy of Rasmussen's polls. Paul Krugman's Op-ed isn't making me much calmer. I'm terrified of the results we'll find on election day, and even more so of the resulting legislative agenda. Keith Olbermann's recent comment on the Tea Party articulated the fears that many of us on the left are experiencing this year.
But polls and pundit comments aside, this midterm should have people scared. Every election, about this time, I start marveling at the very idea of undecided voters. I feel so strongly about politics that I can't even date Republicans; and I may not be able to stand them, but I at least respect the passion that I see in my friends on the right. It is undecided voters, swing voters, people who seem to change their entire value system (or not understand how that value system is represented by their vote) every 2-4 years who confuse me. It baffles me. How can a voter who clearly understood the problems with the Bush administration (and the candidates who wanted to continue them) just two years ago suddenly be confused about who to vote for? It seems to me that the center has long been controlled by the most willfully disengaged, and the fact that they're the ones who get to decide so many elections frustrates me to no end.
I don't think that congressional Democrats are entirely blameless. Between the cowardly ones who are now running away from the party's agenda in their ads, and the cowardly ones who never had the guts to defend that agenda in the first place, it is really difficult to see why Democrats are a viable alternative to the bad ideas of Republicans. While I don't think that a disillusionment with Democrats justifies a vote for Republicans, unfortunately the two-party system (and the increasing similarity in the way the parties take money from corporations) leaves many voters feeling that this is the best solution.
Personally, I've been proud to be a Democrat lately. Watching you and Senator Murray and Governor Gregoire speak, meeting President Carter, watching you make such a compelling case for your administration's accomplishments on The Daily Show last night, all of it has restored the pride I thought I'd lost in my party. I hope that the predictions and the polls are wrong. I hope that Democrats get two more years to prove that we're not completely spineless. Because, as much as they confuse me, we're probably going to need those undecided voters in 2012.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Day 294- Six more years
Dear Mr. President,
My throat hurts and I haven't slept for more than fifteen minutes in a row in almost two days. At 4:30 this morning my friend Casi and I boarded a city bus toward the U-district and gleefully informed the driver we were going to see the President. He laughed and told every passenger that he picked up after us that we'd be the first girls in line.
We were not the first in line. Defying cold and campus security, several dozen others were already waiting when we arrived. We huddled together and tried to sleep on the cold sidewalk but we were shivering too hard. We talked to one another, to the strangers ahead of us and behind us in line, about the rules, about the cold, about nothing coherent at all. We became B-roll. We were joined by other friends, we waited in the only open cafe for warm drinks paid for and abandoned before we could drink them when, unexpectedly, the line began to move forward. We waited longer, bemoaning the lost beverages and looking enviously at the the red-ticketed VIP line and, yes, even the ADA line. It was cold. We were tired. We had driven all night long to get back in time.
FInally the line moved inside. By the thousands we came inside, to the heat, to the light, to the comfortable seats. Volunteers herded us, heedless of our desire to sit together, asking only "can you stand for 4 hours?" We exchanged looks. On a good day? No problem. On no sleep in aching feet and still shivering? We took our seats in the stands, happy to settle in an unobstructed view of the podium. I folded myself in half, curling into a stadium seat to try and sleep a few more minutes. No such luck. The choice between making the whole exhausted row stand up to leave through the non-VIP exit to the bathroom or arguing with the indignant volunteers at the VIP door seemed hard at first, and then, no choice at all. A gospel choir took the task of warming up the cold, exhausted crowd. God Bless America. Beautiful words and voices made up for my usual discomfort with religion. We sang, we started the wave and the enthusiasm rolled around the crowd for more laps than any baseball game.
On stage, a series of successively more powerful leaders took to the podium and said the same things. Excessive references to Husky football victories (stretching back decades to justify the pluralization) made me wonder if Congressman Inslee believes college kids think of the whole world as a football game or if he does. Gradually, our governor and senior senator restored the gravitas we expected, reminding us how far women in our country have come and how well women in our state have done by comparison. The secret service took the stage to check the podium, their earpieces identical to the one I wear for work. We knew what came next.
My voice was already sore, but you took the stage and we didn't stop screaming for seven minutes. I've never been in the same room as the a President, before, and there you were, walking across the stage with Senator Murray's head bobbing just below your shoulder despite the help of 3-inch heels. I have written you every day for 293 days and, though you do not know that one of the fifteen-thousand voices is mine, I believe that when you look my way and wave, you see me. Every one in the auditorium believes that they are seen. You are seeing one shimmering swell of enthusiasm that will bridge any gap. It does not matter that we waited in the cold, or that attendance meant skipping the third day of classes in a row for some of us (classes we can by no means afford to miss; the price of free admission.) We are points of light too small for you to perceive the distances between us, the gaps that define us and make us individual bulbs. We are one bright shine, a stadium full of sound and waiving hands and the consuming emotion of the moment.
They said we can't elect a black man with a funny name. You shouted.
Oh, yes, we can. We shouted back.
And we kept our feet, we kept our voices raised and our hands clapping until my palms were purple and my throat was raw with the damage of sheer sound. Cameras flashed, hands of the lucky red-ticketed VIP were shaken, and, delirious with joy, I wanted to hug Reggie as he collected letters and gifts of goodwill. Elated, we tumble outside, a crowd no longer, and walk home, walking that path from the University to Capitol Hill, the same streets we flooded on election night two years ago, the same joy, the same calls from neighbors and perfect strangers asking for our account of your words.
A shift at work later, still sleepless, I am sobered by exhaustion and the return to my routine. Check in on my secret-service earpiece with the rest of the team. Blend in. Be quiet. Look for thieves. One foot in front of the other; tech center, fiction, main floor, basement. Repeat another staircase with the help of another Americano. It hurts to speak. It hurts to breathe. I have barely slept, I have homework due in less than 12 hours, and I can't afford to miss another class all quarter long. Casi has another 100-mile drive home.
And all we can keep saying to each other, to any one who asks, to ourselves is the same thing; it was worth it. I'd do it again. Let's do it tomorrow. Tangle traffic on Montlake and bring the commute to a halt. Re-assemble the metal detectors and get the secret service dogs back on their leads. I would do it all over again, to hear you speak. Even just to hear, again, the same old car metaphor, with the ditch and the mud and the keys. When you want to go forward, you put it in D.
I might be crazy and half-dead with joy and exhaustion, but you will have my ballot and you will have my vote and if I can help it, you and Senator Murray will have six more years and Seattle will have more happy floods in the streets.
Six more years sounds great to me.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
My throat hurts and I haven't slept for more than fifteen minutes in a row in almost two days. At 4:30 this morning my friend Casi and I boarded a city bus toward the U-district and gleefully informed the driver we were going to see the President. He laughed and told every passenger that he picked up after us that we'd be the first girls in line.
We were not the first in line. Defying cold and campus security, several dozen others were already waiting when we arrived. We huddled together and tried to sleep on the cold sidewalk but we were shivering too hard. We talked to one another, to the strangers ahead of us and behind us in line, about the rules, about the cold, about nothing coherent at all. We became B-roll. We were joined by other friends, we waited in the only open cafe for warm drinks paid for and abandoned before we could drink them when, unexpectedly, the line began to move forward. We waited longer, bemoaning the lost beverages and looking enviously at the the red-ticketed VIP line and, yes, even the ADA line. It was cold. We were tired. We had driven all night long to get back in time.
FInally the line moved inside. By the thousands we came inside, to the heat, to the light, to the comfortable seats. Volunteers herded us, heedless of our desire to sit together, asking only "can you stand for 4 hours?" We exchanged looks. On a good day? No problem. On no sleep in aching feet and still shivering? We took our seats in the stands, happy to settle in an unobstructed view of the podium. I folded myself in half, curling into a stadium seat to try and sleep a few more minutes. No such luck. The choice between making the whole exhausted row stand up to leave through the non-VIP exit to the bathroom or arguing with the indignant volunteers at the VIP door seemed hard at first, and then, no choice at all. A gospel choir took the task of warming up the cold, exhausted crowd. God Bless America. Beautiful words and voices made up for my usual discomfort with religion. We sang, we started the wave and the enthusiasm rolled around the crowd for more laps than any baseball game.
On stage, a series of successively more powerful leaders took to the podium and said the same things. Excessive references to Husky football victories (stretching back decades to justify the pluralization) made me wonder if Congressman Inslee believes college kids think of the whole world as a football game or if he does. Gradually, our governor and senior senator restored the gravitas we expected, reminding us how far women in our country have come and how well women in our state have done by comparison. The secret service took the stage to check the podium, their earpieces identical to the one I wear for work. We knew what came next.
My voice was already sore, but you took the stage and we didn't stop screaming for seven minutes. I've never been in the same room as the a President, before, and there you were, walking across the stage with Senator Murray's head bobbing just below your shoulder despite the help of 3-inch heels. I have written you every day for 293 days and, though you do not know that one of the fifteen-thousand voices is mine, I believe that when you look my way and wave, you see me. Every one in the auditorium believes that they are seen. You are seeing one shimmering swell of enthusiasm that will bridge any gap. It does not matter that we waited in the cold, or that attendance meant skipping the third day of classes in a row for some of us (classes we can by no means afford to miss; the price of free admission.) We are points of light too small for you to perceive the distances between us, the gaps that define us and make us individual bulbs. We are one bright shine, a stadium full of sound and waiving hands and the consuming emotion of the moment.
They said we can't elect a black man with a funny name. You shouted.
Oh, yes, we can. We shouted back.
And we kept our feet, we kept our voices raised and our hands clapping until my palms were purple and my throat was raw with the damage of sheer sound. Cameras flashed, hands of the lucky red-ticketed VIP were shaken, and, delirious with joy, I wanted to hug Reggie as he collected letters and gifts of goodwill. Elated, we tumble outside, a crowd no longer, and walk home, walking that path from the University to Capitol Hill, the same streets we flooded on election night two years ago, the same joy, the same calls from neighbors and perfect strangers asking for our account of your words.
A shift at work later, still sleepless, I am sobered by exhaustion and the return to my routine. Check in on my secret-service earpiece with the rest of the team. Blend in. Be quiet. Look for thieves. One foot in front of the other; tech center, fiction, main floor, basement. Repeat another staircase with the help of another Americano. It hurts to speak. It hurts to breathe. I have barely slept, I have homework due in less than 12 hours, and I can't afford to miss another class all quarter long. Casi has another 100-mile drive home.
And all we can keep saying to each other, to any one who asks, to ourselves is the same thing; it was worth it. I'd do it again. Let's do it tomorrow. Tangle traffic on Montlake and bring the commute to a halt. Re-assemble the metal detectors and get the secret service dogs back on their leads. I would do it all over again, to hear you speak. Even just to hear, again, the same old car metaphor, with the ditch and the mud and the keys. When you want to go forward, you put it in D.
I might be crazy and half-dead with joy and exhaustion, but you will have my ballot and you will have my vote and if I can help it, you and Senator Murray will have six more years and Seattle will have more happy floods in the streets.
Six more years sounds great to me.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Day 202- One new national foundation- only $5!
Dear Mr. President,
I got an email from OFA today, or, if I'm to take it seriously, from you. It's actually more personalized than most of the form letters I've gotten in the mail. This was my favorite part:
You and I did not build this movement to win one election. We did not come together to pass one single piece of legislation. We are fighting for nothing less than a new foundation for our country -- and that work is not complete. As we face the challenges ahead, I am relying on you to stand with me.
Please donate $5 or more today:
I know there isn't really a way to send a mass e-mail asking for money and not come across as, well, kind of tacky. I get these OFA emails every few days and, I have to admit, that attempt to make me feel important and part of the club, it comes across as completely phony. I don't like being patronized. I don't need to have my sense of importance inflated. I don't think these methods actually get you more money.
I donated anyway. I think that OFA is doing good work, and that, even if my donation counts only as $10 against the Tea Party and the Republicans who serve them, it's worth it. I don't think imagine it will buy me influence, or even a marginal improvement in the policies or practices of your administration. But I believe it's a start. I think the 2008 election was a victory for many of the poor, disenfranchised and forgotten; a demonstration of the power that those of us non-millionaires still have over our national destiny. My $10 might not buy this country a new foundation, it might not get me a signed photo or a handshake or even a less annoying OFA email, but it's probably better spent promoting liberal(ish) candidates than buying me a week's worth of Americanos.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Readers: If my cynicism isn't too catching, you, too, can buy a new foundation for our country by donating to Organizing For America.
I got an email from OFA today, or, if I'm to take it seriously, from you. It's actually more personalized than most of the form letters I've gotten in the mail. This was my favorite part:
You and I did not build this movement to win one election. We did not come together to pass one single piece of legislation. We are fighting for nothing less than a new foundation for our country -- and that work is not complete. As we face the challenges ahead, I am relying on you to stand with me.
Please donate $5 or more today:
I know there isn't really a way to send a mass e-mail asking for money and not come across as, well, kind of tacky. I get these OFA emails every few days and, I have to admit, that attempt to make me feel important and part of the club, it comes across as completely phony. I don't like being patronized. I don't need to have my sense of importance inflated. I don't think these methods actually get you more money.
I donated anyway. I think that OFA is doing good work, and that, even if my donation counts only as $10 against the Tea Party and the Republicans who serve them, it's worth it. I don't think imagine it will buy me influence, or even a marginal improvement in the policies or practices of your administration. But I believe it's a start. I think the 2008 election was a victory for many of the poor, disenfranchised and forgotten; a demonstration of the power that those of us non-millionaires still have over our national destiny. My $10 might not buy this country a new foundation, it might not get me a signed photo or a handshake or even a less annoying OFA email, but it's probably better spent promoting liberal(ish) candidates than buying me a week's worth of Americanos.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Readers: If my cynicism isn't too catching, you, too, can buy a new foundation for our country by donating to Organizing For America.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Day 199- Palin for President
Dear Mr. President,
I'm officially signing on as a supporter of Sarah Palin's presidential bid. This may come as a shock to many who know me, but I've given it a lot of thought, and I've realized that she's all about compassion. Compassion for New Yorkers, who, apparently, since 9/11 can no longer bear the sight or sound of anything relating to Islam. And, Mrs. Palin knows that the best forum for expressing compassion is twitter. As pointed out in a comment on the New York Times article, no one would have objected to the building of a church 2 blocks away from the Oklahoma City bomb site. But Sarah knows better. Sarah understands the difference between domestic and foreign terror is that, while it would just be ridiculous to start being afraid of all the white male anti-government Christians in this country, there are a small enough number of Muslims to make fearing them as convenient as a drive-thru. And Sarah knows that in this country, we even like our phobias value-sized and made-to-order.
The mosque, which she asks peace-seeking Muslims to reject "in the interest of healing," is simply too difficult for New Yorkers to look at. I can relate. One time I was shoved by an Asian woman in the street, and now I can't eat Thai food without having terrible flashbacks. I'm just glad that courageous people like Sarah Palin are willing to spend 140 characters defending the traumatized psyche of xenophobes.
But there are other benefits to a Palin presidential run. Remember the good old days, before you were President, when the left was united against Bush, and had the added benefit of being able to blame our lack of accomplishments on our complete lack of power? It was a lot easier to call myself a Democrat or a liberal in those days. I didn't worry about getting torn apart from the left and the right. The left agreed with me. The right had all the power and didn't feel they had to apologize for it, so they didn't bother to disagree with me. That kind of harmony, that peace and stability that drove the economy into the ground, started two wars and really boosted the sale of backpack-sized Canadian flags, you know, I get all misty just thinking about it. I think that Sarah Palin could really bring that back. And, let's face it, most Democrats would rather rage helplessly against the status quo than be strapped with the impossible task of changing it. I think I could build a decent sized coalition around this.
Just think, Mr. President, you could probably take a vacation without every one and their co-anchor flipping out about it. Sounds pretty good, eh?
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
I'm officially signing on as a supporter of Sarah Palin's presidential bid. This may come as a shock to many who know me, but I've given it a lot of thought, and I've realized that she's all about compassion. Compassion for New Yorkers, who, apparently, since 9/11 can no longer bear the sight or sound of anything relating to Islam. And, Mrs. Palin knows that the best forum for expressing compassion is twitter. As pointed out in a comment on the New York Times article, no one would have objected to the building of a church 2 blocks away from the Oklahoma City bomb site. But Sarah knows better. Sarah understands the difference between domestic and foreign terror is that, while it would just be ridiculous to start being afraid of all the white male anti-government Christians in this country, there are a small enough number of Muslims to make fearing them as convenient as a drive-thru. And Sarah knows that in this country, we even like our phobias value-sized and made-to-order.
The mosque, which she asks peace-seeking Muslims to reject "in the interest of healing," is simply too difficult for New Yorkers to look at. I can relate. One time I was shoved by an Asian woman in the street, and now I can't eat Thai food without having terrible flashbacks. I'm just glad that courageous people like Sarah Palin are willing to spend 140 characters defending the traumatized psyche of xenophobes.
But there are other benefits to a Palin presidential run. Remember the good old days, before you were President, when the left was united against Bush, and had the added benefit of being able to blame our lack of accomplishments on our complete lack of power? It was a lot easier to call myself a Democrat or a liberal in those days. I didn't worry about getting torn apart from the left and the right. The left agreed with me. The right had all the power and didn't feel they had to apologize for it, so they didn't bother to disagree with me. That kind of harmony, that peace and stability that drove the economy into the ground, started two wars and really boosted the sale of backpack-sized Canadian flags, you know, I get all misty just thinking about it. I think that Sarah Palin could really bring that back. And, let's face it, most Democrats would rather rage helplessly against the status quo than be strapped with the impossible task of changing it. I think I could build a decent sized coalition around this.
Just think, Mr. President, you could probably take a vacation without every one and their co-anchor flipping out about it. Sounds pretty good, eh?
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Day 131
Dear Mr. President,
I applied to go back to school today. After running out of viable alternatives to complete my degree (night school, bank robbery, insurance fraud, etc.) I've finally concluded that I have to face my fear and go back full-time. What is unusual about this situation is that, instead of fearing the unknown, I know exactly what I'm afraid of. I'm afraid of the stress, the inevitable choice between being a good employee and being a good student, (or, put another way, of having the means to support myself or the kind of grades I expect,) of the endless bureaucracy of attending a large school, my own deteriorating academic skills and my failure to measure up to classes growing younger as I age. I've been through it, before, and I do not look forward to doing it again, for an entire year. I've put it off for so long, because of the calculated risks, feeling as though I know, already, that I will fail, and so it is not worth trying. But business as usual isn't acceptable; my life is not what I want it to be, my career, my contribution to my community, nothing about my station in life is acceptable and so I have to put aside my habits and self-doubt and even my pride, and I have to do what is difficult.
Lately I feel like your administration has faced a similar struggle. It's as though you can't seem to break out of the same patterns that force you to perpetuate a status quo you know to be unacceptable. Why, for example, is the White House rallying for incumbent Democrats who don't support your legislative agenda? Why do we continue to prop up Hamid Karzai in Afghanistan, or accept defeat when it comes to new energy policy? Our problems are similar, Mr. President, in that we both have the power and will to improve, but somehow find ourselves bogged down in the day-to-day. I understand; it's difficult to get aggressive on your legislative agenda when it's flooding in Tennessee and oil is spilling into the Gulf; when bombs, (or, at least, fair attempts at bombs) are being left in Times Square and Arizona seems ready to replace its law enforcement with a modern-era manifestation of the Glanton gang. But time is slipping away from both of us, and, before you know it, the midterms will be over and it will be time to run again. Your approval rating may be creeping up, but you know that the years will be long gone before you're able to accomplish what you set out to if you wait for the political will to come to you.
Neither of us can afford to waste our time in mediocrity, in half-hearted attempts born of fear. I hope that your administration musters all of its courage and finds new approaches to solving the problems of our day; that you take the difficult paths and fight for your beliefs, without compromising before you even reach the negotiation. You ought to re-evaluate the promises you made to the electorate during your campaign and the progress made so far toward those ends. I worry that four years will pass before you look around and realize you haven't fought hard enough, for fear of failure, or that you've been bogged down with day-by-day crisis management and never got to take on enough of the big picture. A constant reflection on the goals of your administration is essential to the necessary sense of urgency your office requires. Like me, you still have so many people who believe in you, and I know you, too, want that faith to be rewarded.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
I applied to go back to school today. After running out of viable alternatives to complete my degree (night school, bank robbery, insurance fraud, etc.) I've finally concluded that I have to face my fear and go back full-time. What is unusual about this situation is that, instead of fearing the unknown, I know exactly what I'm afraid of. I'm afraid of the stress, the inevitable choice between being a good employee and being a good student, (or, put another way, of having the means to support myself or the kind of grades I expect,) of the endless bureaucracy of attending a large school, my own deteriorating academic skills and my failure to measure up to classes growing younger as I age. I've been through it, before, and I do not look forward to doing it again, for an entire year. I've put it off for so long, because of the calculated risks, feeling as though I know, already, that I will fail, and so it is not worth trying. But business as usual isn't acceptable; my life is not what I want it to be, my career, my contribution to my community, nothing about my station in life is acceptable and so I have to put aside my habits and self-doubt and even my pride, and I have to do what is difficult.
Lately I feel like your administration has faced a similar struggle. It's as though you can't seem to break out of the same patterns that force you to perpetuate a status quo you know to be unacceptable. Why, for example, is the White House rallying for incumbent Democrats who don't support your legislative agenda? Why do we continue to prop up Hamid Karzai in Afghanistan, or accept defeat when it comes to new energy policy? Our problems are similar, Mr. President, in that we both have the power and will to improve, but somehow find ourselves bogged down in the day-to-day. I understand; it's difficult to get aggressive on your legislative agenda when it's flooding in Tennessee and oil is spilling into the Gulf; when bombs, (or, at least, fair attempts at bombs) are being left in Times Square and Arizona seems ready to replace its law enforcement with a modern-era manifestation of the Glanton gang. But time is slipping away from both of us, and, before you know it, the midterms will be over and it will be time to run again. Your approval rating may be creeping up, but you know that the years will be long gone before you're able to accomplish what you set out to if you wait for the political will to come to you.
Neither of us can afford to waste our time in mediocrity, in half-hearted attempts born of fear. I hope that your administration musters all of its courage and finds new approaches to solving the problems of our day; that you take the difficult paths and fight for your beliefs, without compromising before you even reach the negotiation. You ought to re-evaluate the promises you made to the electorate during your campaign and the progress made so far toward those ends. I worry that four years will pass before you look around and realize you haven't fought hard enough, for fear of failure, or that you've been bogged down with day-by-day crisis management and never got to take on enough of the big picture. A constant reflection on the goals of your administration is essential to the necessary sense of urgency your office requires. Like me, you still have so many people who believe in you, and I know you, too, want that faith to be rewarded.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Day 125- Why I'm still drinking the koolaid
Dear Mr. President,
Cults make me uncomfortable. I choke on the corporatespeak they feed us at work. I can't stomach the suspension of disbelief required for organized religion. I'm a skeptical person by nature and I can't shut off the part of me that constantly questions what I am told. I do not often fit in with ideologies, isms or cults of personality. And yet, I drink the Hope Koolaid better than almost any one I know.
It's not that I think you're always right; it's not that I think you always make the best choices or even act with the best of intentions. You're really my last hope, these days. I can't give up, believe the system to be hopelessly corrupt and refuse to participate; that would hand my power as a citizen over to some one else. I can't, honestly, envision a viable third party candidate, especially one who is more representative of my beliefs than you are. I have to believe in your wisdom and in your goodness, because if you're not the person best able to steer our nation right now, I'm at a loss for who the alternative would be.
This is not to say that my support for you is out of a lack of other options. Maybe it's just as irrational and just as naive as any other kind of faith, but it is more than blind loyalty. I do have issues with your policies and some of your beliefs, but I think, even among the Democrats, you're the person I respect the most because of the way you approach problems. I have a tremendous amount of faith in the people of this country; in my generation and the force of demographics to, slowly, move us closer to a fairer, freer and more just nation; I also know I can't change anything acting by myself. I believe that the change you promised us will come, probably long after you've left office, but we have to keep working toward it, more slowly than any one will find acceptable.
I am subject to the system, as are you. The difference, I think, is that I have the capacity to shift it very little, while you seem to have accepted too much of the status quo as inevitable, without consideration of your own, considerably greater, power to change it. You don't have to accept things as they've always been; be it the wars you inherited, the legacy of American imperialism, our backwards and bigoted social policies or the same old blue dog incumbents in the Democratic party. Your campaign empowered so many of the disenfranchised of this nation; it isn't hubris to reject the trappings of the system that disenfranchised them in the first place. The 17 months of your presidency have seen no shortage of missed opportunities to bring about the kind of change you asked us all to hope for; but I'm raising a glass, and keeping the faith, for the two and half years you've got left.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Cults make me uncomfortable. I choke on the corporatespeak they feed us at work. I can't stomach the suspension of disbelief required for organized religion. I'm a skeptical person by nature and I can't shut off the part of me that constantly questions what I am told. I do not often fit in with ideologies, isms or cults of personality. And yet, I drink the Hope Koolaid better than almost any one I know.
It's not that I think you're always right; it's not that I think you always make the best choices or even act with the best of intentions. You're really my last hope, these days. I can't give up, believe the system to be hopelessly corrupt and refuse to participate; that would hand my power as a citizen over to some one else. I can't, honestly, envision a viable third party candidate, especially one who is more representative of my beliefs than you are. I have to believe in your wisdom and in your goodness, because if you're not the person best able to steer our nation right now, I'm at a loss for who the alternative would be.
This is not to say that my support for you is out of a lack of other options. Maybe it's just as irrational and just as naive as any other kind of faith, but it is more than blind loyalty. I do have issues with your policies and some of your beliefs, but I think, even among the Democrats, you're the person I respect the most because of the way you approach problems. I have a tremendous amount of faith in the people of this country; in my generation and the force of demographics to, slowly, move us closer to a fairer, freer and more just nation; I also know I can't change anything acting by myself. I believe that the change you promised us will come, probably long after you've left office, but we have to keep working toward it, more slowly than any one will find acceptable.
I am subject to the system, as are you. The difference, I think, is that I have the capacity to shift it very little, while you seem to have accepted too much of the status quo as inevitable, without consideration of your own, considerably greater, power to change it. You don't have to accept things as they've always been; be it the wars you inherited, the legacy of American imperialism, our backwards and bigoted social policies or the same old blue dog incumbents in the Democratic party. Your campaign empowered so many of the disenfranchised of this nation; it isn't hubris to reject the trappings of the system that disenfranchised them in the first place. The 17 months of your presidency have seen no shortage of missed opportunities to bring about the kind of change you asked us all to hope for; but I'm raising a glass, and keeping the faith, for the two and half years you've got left.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Day 84- Rob McKenna does not speak for me
Dear Mr. President,
My state's attorney general is joining the ranks of those filing law suits against the health care reform legislation. I apologize on his behalf. He does not represent me, (or, for that matter, most of the voters in my state,) and if the law suit isn't dropped, I can assure you that Washington State voters will not let him forget it, come 2012.
Today I took a class as part of my training at my new job. We went around the room discussing our reasons for joining the company, and most said that they were doing it for the health insurance. Our company is one of the few that elects to give part-time employees health benefits, but many in my state are not so fortunate. We'll benefit from health care reform in a number of ways, and to have our attorney general join the suit against the legislation is truly disappointing, (not to mention an unconscionable waste of our time & tax dollars.) I hope that Mr. McKenna appreciates just how much this is going to finish his career.
For health care opponents campaigning to repeal the legislation, I share the sentiments you expressed today in Iowa; they want to give insurance companies back the right to deny children with preexisting conditions and raise taxes on small businesses? They should go right ahead. I just can't wait to see the ads coming out of this. I don't think I've ever been so excited for midterm elections. I am not afraid, if other democrats will get out the vote this year, like we did in 2006, we can defend our majority well. Furthermore, we can show those elected officials like Mr. Mckenna why speaking for their constituents is an important part of job security.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
My state's attorney general is joining the ranks of those filing law suits against the health care reform legislation. I apologize on his behalf. He does not represent me, (or, for that matter, most of the voters in my state,) and if the law suit isn't dropped, I can assure you that Washington State voters will not let him forget it, come 2012.
Today I took a class as part of my training at my new job. We went around the room discussing our reasons for joining the company, and most said that they were doing it for the health insurance. Our company is one of the few that elects to give part-time employees health benefits, but many in my state are not so fortunate. We'll benefit from health care reform in a number of ways, and to have our attorney general join the suit against the legislation is truly disappointing, (not to mention an unconscionable waste of our time & tax dollars.) I hope that Mr. McKenna appreciates just how much this is going to finish his career.
For health care opponents campaigning to repeal the legislation, I share the sentiments you expressed today in Iowa; they want to give insurance companies back the right to deny children with preexisting conditions and raise taxes on small businesses? They should go right ahead. I just can't wait to see the ads coming out of this. I don't think I've ever been so excited for midterm elections. I am not afraid, if other democrats will get out the vote this year, like we did in 2006, we can defend our majority well. Furthermore, we can show those elected officials like Mr. Mckenna why speaking for their constituents is an important part of job security.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Friday, March 19, 2010
Day 78
Dear Mr. President,
In today's New York Times, you're called "Barack the Unbreakable." I was so relieved to see this opinion piece, a writer willing to defy the standard narrative to point out the inconvenient reality- your poll numbers might be down, but they could be a lot worse. You're still perceived as more genuine than pretty much any other politician, and that's not without good reason. The American people understand that you're fighting so hard for health care because you believe it is the right thing to do. I think, when it passes, many of the unconvinced will be persuaded that this was the right issue to fight for.
As the votes in the house turn, as representatives begin to vote their conscience and not their self-interest, it's becoming clear that your confidence is the driving force behind the health care reform. Once it is passed, and the world does not end, we do not succumb to Stalinism and suffering, once the American people see that they've been lied to by conservatives seeking to protect powerful insurance interests, I hope that your poll numbers do go up. That being said, even if they bottom out, even if we lose the midterms and the white house in 2012, I will still be proud to have voted for you, Mr. President. Thank you for all you have done to prove that the presidency is about so much more than one's popularity.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
In today's New York Times, you're called "Barack the Unbreakable." I was so relieved to see this opinion piece, a writer willing to defy the standard narrative to point out the inconvenient reality- your poll numbers might be down, but they could be a lot worse. You're still perceived as more genuine than pretty much any other politician, and that's not without good reason. The American people understand that you're fighting so hard for health care because you believe it is the right thing to do. I think, when it passes, many of the unconvinced will be persuaded that this was the right issue to fight for.
As the votes in the house turn, as representatives begin to vote their conscience and not their self-interest, it's becoming clear that your confidence is the driving force behind the health care reform. Once it is passed, and the world does not end, we do not succumb to Stalinism and suffering, once the American people see that they've been lied to by conservatives seeking to protect powerful insurance interests, I hope that your poll numbers do go up. That being said, even if they bottom out, even if we lose the midterms and the white house in 2012, I will still be proud to have voted for you, Mr. President. Thank you for all you have done to prove that the presidency is about so much more than one's popularity.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Day 12- Why I love push polls
Dear Mr. President,
My mother, who has been a Democrat as long as I've known her, was surprised to receive the "2009 Obama Agenda Survey" from RNC chairman Michael Steele. She was kind enough to share it with me, knowing I, too, enjoy a good laugh. It has me musing on the things that make me a Democrat. The thought that Democrats don't send out surveys this absurd (or, if we do, that we at least have a more professional editor,) is particularly comforting.
An example question:
"Do you agree with Barack Obama's budget plan that will lead to a $23.1 trillion national debt over the next ten years?"
My response options are "yes", "no", and "no opinion". First of all, the 2010 budget is 2.381 trillion dollars and 140 pages of information so dull I can't stay awake to read the table of contents. Do I agree with all of it? I don't even understand all of it! If I did, how could I have a one-word opinion about something so complex? How many people, looking at this survey question, have read enough of, or even about, the budget to be able to answer that question intelligently? Even if given a week to study, and an unlimited word count with which to respond, I could not feel confident about answering that question completely, so the idea of checking a box next to "yes" or "no" is laughable. Do the people this survey was intended to reach not recognize that they are being manipulated to provide meaningless statistics to support equally meaningless talking points? And don't even get me started on the wording. I may have had no love and little respect for President Bush, but I always referred him as such, and Chairman Steele should know better than to sign his name to something that doesn't respect, at least, the office of the Presidency.
Last night I watched the 60 minutes report on the revelations Game Change provides about the 2008 campaign. A friend had expressed his shock at Steve Schmidt's treatment of Sarah Palin during the interview, which made me curious to see it. I thought it was courageous. Clearly, Mr. Schmidt is not worried about his own reputation. Anderson Cooper obliquely calls him out on putting politics ahead of patriotism by selecting some one Schmidt himself sees as obviously unqualified for the VP nominee, but Schmidt can always just call that "gotcha journalism." What's truly brave about his interview is how fearlessly he risks his future as a campaign director. I know if I were a Republican running for office in 2010, I'd want some one who at least waits for the concession speech to finish before he find the nearest camera and starts telling the liberal media elites how it was all my fault that we lost. Seriously, is this man what passes for a professional political operative these days? Has he never seen an episode of West Wing?
As a Democrat and die-hard Tina Fey fan, I'll admit I was sad to hear that Sarah Palin will be joining the Fox 'news' team and unlikely to pursue the 2012 Presidential nomination. As much as I appreciate a race with some elements of suspense, the sight of you and her on the same debate stage would make for an entertaining evening. The erstwhile governor of Alaska represents everything that is wrong with the GOP. She's an insubstantial reactionary who talks in soundbites and bumper sticker slogans. "We've got room in Alaska for all of God's creatures- right next to the mashed potatoes!" Seriously, does she know she ripped that off from some one's T-shirt or does she think she made it up?
Palin or no, the Republicans don't have a serious contender for 2012. Yet. They seem to be counting on Democrats to provide the tools of our own destruction, by angering their base enough to get them to organize against you. Now, I can't claim to have done much to help you get elected. I voted, wrote a blog on Daily Kos, and spent a few hours calling voters in Washington and Montana. This time around, even if I'm not the most impressed with your presidency thus far, even if you accomplish absolutely nothing for the next 3 years, I swear to God, if the RNC keeps sending this anti-intellectual BS to my mother, I'll go door-to-door in Ohio, Pennsylvania and Florida for your re-election. And I hate Florida. Which, I suppose, is to say that, between being their own worst enemies and eating their young for a chance to meet Anderson Cooper, the Republicans may have more in common with Democrats than any of us would like to admit. As much as I'd like to see the congressional Democrats take a few pages from the Bush-era playbook on party unity and efficiency, I'll comfort myself with the fact that we control the House, the Senate, the White House, and they're giving new meaning to the term "sore loser" and sending out push-polls that reek of desperation.
All joking aside, I'd really like 2012 to be about more than just beating the Republicans. If I promise to spend the next 3 years learning more about the budget, do you think you could promise to spend them making 2008's victory mean something more concrete? I'll probably need better material for the swing states.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
My mother, who has been a Democrat as long as I've known her, was surprised to receive the "2009 Obama Agenda Survey" from RNC chairman Michael Steele. She was kind enough to share it with me, knowing I, too, enjoy a good laugh. It has me musing on the things that make me a Democrat. The thought that Democrats don't send out surveys this absurd (or, if we do, that we at least have a more professional editor,) is particularly comforting.
An example question:
"Do you agree with Barack Obama's budget plan that will lead to a $23.1 trillion national debt over the next ten years?"
My response options are "yes", "no", and "no opinion". First of all, the 2010 budget is 2.381 trillion dollars and 140 pages of information so dull I can't stay awake to read the table of contents. Do I agree with all of it? I don't even understand all of it! If I did, how could I have a one-word opinion about something so complex? How many people, looking at this survey question, have read enough of, or even about, the budget to be able to answer that question intelligently? Even if given a week to study, and an unlimited word count with which to respond, I could not feel confident about answering that question completely, so the idea of checking a box next to "yes" or "no" is laughable. Do the people this survey was intended to reach not recognize that they are being manipulated to provide meaningless statistics to support equally meaningless talking points? And don't even get me started on the wording. I may have had no love and little respect for President Bush, but I always referred him as such, and Chairman Steele should know better than to sign his name to something that doesn't respect, at least, the office of the Presidency.
Last night I watched the 60 minutes report on the revelations Game Change provides about the 2008 campaign. A friend had expressed his shock at Steve Schmidt's treatment of Sarah Palin during the interview, which made me curious to see it. I thought it was courageous. Clearly, Mr. Schmidt is not worried about his own reputation. Anderson Cooper obliquely calls him out on putting politics ahead of patriotism by selecting some one Schmidt himself sees as obviously unqualified for the VP nominee, but Schmidt can always just call that "gotcha journalism." What's truly brave about his interview is how fearlessly he risks his future as a campaign director. I know if I were a Republican running for office in 2010, I'd want some one who at least waits for the concession speech to finish before he find the nearest camera and starts telling the liberal media elites how it was all my fault that we lost. Seriously, is this man what passes for a professional political operative these days? Has he never seen an episode of West Wing?
As a Democrat and die-hard Tina Fey fan, I'll admit I was sad to hear that Sarah Palin will be joining the Fox 'news' team and unlikely to pursue the 2012 Presidential nomination. As much as I appreciate a race with some elements of suspense, the sight of you and her on the same debate stage would make for an entertaining evening. The erstwhile governor of Alaska represents everything that is wrong with the GOP. She's an insubstantial reactionary who talks in soundbites and bumper sticker slogans. "We've got room in Alaska for all of God's creatures- right next to the mashed potatoes!" Seriously, does she know she ripped that off from some one's T-shirt or does she think she made it up?
Palin or no, the Republicans don't have a serious contender for 2012. Yet. They seem to be counting on Democrats to provide the tools of our own destruction, by angering their base enough to get them to organize against you. Now, I can't claim to have done much to help you get elected. I voted, wrote a blog on Daily Kos, and spent a few hours calling voters in Washington and Montana. This time around, even if I'm not the most impressed with your presidency thus far, even if you accomplish absolutely nothing for the next 3 years, I swear to God, if the RNC keeps sending this anti-intellectual BS to my mother, I'll go door-to-door in Ohio, Pennsylvania and Florida for your re-election. And I hate Florida. Which, I suppose, is to say that, between being their own worst enemies and eating their young for a chance to meet Anderson Cooper, the Republicans may have more in common with Democrats than any of us would like to admit. As much as I'd like to see the congressional Democrats take a few pages from the Bush-era playbook on party unity and efficiency, I'll comfort myself with the fact that we control the House, the Senate, the White House, and they're giving new meaning to the term "sore loser" and sending out push-polls that reek of desperation.
All joking aside, I'd really like 2012 to be about more than just beating the Republicans. If I promise to spend the next 3 years learning more about the budget, do you think you could promise to spend them making 2008's victory mean something more concrete? I'll probably need better material for the swing states.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
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