Day 239- Comfort reading and baiting Glenn Beck fans

Dear Mr. President,

My friend and coworker wrote a short piece on the reliable pleasure of reading Kurt Vonnegut for our bookstore's blog. Comfort reading, returning to a familiar author for the needed reminder of why I read, is something I often find myself in need of. His post recalled my own affection for Vonnegut, and my sadness at his passing. Vonnegut's writing shaped the way that many of my generation approached the world; his humanism and his compassion are certainly things that I strive to emulate in my own life. As Jon Stewart told him once, he made adolescence bearable. Thinking about him today I couldn't help but wonder how he would feel about our country as it is now. How disappointed he might be with us, and how much easier and more absurd the horrible things would all seem if he were still here to comment on them.

If comfort reading is how I escape temporary frustrations with the written word, than I certainly spent my morning occupied with its political equivalent. Sometimes, when the political world gets too frustrating, too disgusting or too bleak, I turn to the familiar comfort and reliable entertainment of baiting Glenn Beck fans. It isn't a nice thing to do, I suppose, and probably not enough of an intellectual exercise to even make it good practice for real debate, but I feel like I'm allowed a certain amount of pleasure on what is definitely one of the toughest days I've had in a while. And so, when confronted with the question "how is Glenn Beck a racist?" by one of his groupies, I felt compelled to answer.

I think what comforts me about arguing with Beck's ilk is that it offers a clear opportunity to articulate my opinions and positions to a clear opponent. Beck's divisive, bigoted and ignorant rants are exactly the sort of thing I stand in opposition to. They are an affront to my values, a poison to our political discourse and one of the last havens for the idea that Real America is the birthright of the white, english-speaking, Judeo-Christian middle class. And, despite all of this, I still believe Beck has every right to say the hateful and stupid things that he says (even, unfortunately, in the historical shadow of much better men.) This feeling is a comforting reminder that I have not lost all perspective for the sake of my partisan beliefs. That I still see the struggle between Right and Left in ideological and not apocalyptic terms. In short, as petty as it may seem, I am merely reassuring myself that for all the comfort of a clearly identified opponent, I have not yet sunk to his level. That Mr. Vonnegut taught me well, and his lessons have not been drown out by my impassioned, emotional reactions.

So much of my time discussing politics feels like war. Two (or more) sides stubbornly entrenched and unwilling to even consider their opposition to be human. Willfully entering a fight like this, just to remind myself that it can be fun, keeps me from sinking into the combative mentality too deeply. Maybe that's unforgivably smug and self-satisfied. I think, so long as Mr. Beck enjoys the right to keep spewing his nonsense, I will enjoy my right to challenge those who are buying into it.

I hope that tomorrow doesn't devolve into something really awful, that Mr. Beck and his supporters remember the great men who stood in that place before them and act accordingly. If not, well, as Mr. Vonnegut said, so it goes.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 191- In the footsteps of ancient giants

Dear Mr. President,

I've heard many times the sentiment Nicholas Kristof expressed today in his column "Waiting for Gandhi." The idea that the Palestinians have not found their Gandhi, their Dr. King; that one man, could save them all. I don't know if things are that simple. I don't know if a Messiah complex (or a waiting for a Messiah complex) is really what will make things all better. I admire Dr. King, and I admire Gandhi, but they were mortal men that achievement, history and personal sacrifice elevated to something higher, something, quite possibly, unattainable. I think that resting the salvation of an entire people on one man's shoulders is a dangerous proposition. For one thing, it discourages those who would walk the paths of these great men, but could never, alone, hope to fill their shoes. I think you might be able to empathize with this, given those who hailed you as the natural heir to Dr. King (or even Jesus) and then turned their backs when miracles did not appear in your first 100 days. How does a man meet such impossible expectations? And, when he cannot, how does he keep his spirit, his sanity, or his integrity when people give up hope? It isn't fair for us (or for Palestinians, or any one) to expect the work of healing our wounds and steering our nations to collective better destinies to belong to one man. We all must be that man.

Kristof naively describes the non-violence practiced by many Palestinian activists as a recent development, something "that some Palestinians are dabbling in." Perhaps Mr. Kristof has only recently witnessed it himself, but nonviolent resistance has been practiced by activists against the occupation for decades. I feel that this is an aspect of resistance that the media deliberately overlooks, but also that the Israeli government and the American government, fail to recognize, praise, and reward as an alternative to violence. The nonviolence is not less effective because it hasn't found a face for T-shirts of the next generation of hipsters yet.

I was reminded by a fellow blogger recently of some wise words from Rachel Corrie's posthumously published writings.

Anyway, I’m rambling. Just want to write to my Mom and tell her that I’m witnessing this chronic, insidious genocide and I’m really scared, and questioning my fundamental belief in the goodness of human nature. This has to stop. I think it is a good idea for us all to drop everything and devote our lives to making this stop. I don’t think it’s an extremist thing to do anymore. I still really want to dance around to Pat Benatar and have boyfriends and make comics for my coworkers. But I also want this to stop.

When I first read these words I felt, personally, called out by them. I needed to drop everything and devote my life to making this stop. I didn't imagine I could do it myself, and I didn't think Rachel thought she could, either. I don't think that I am special or significant or destined to singlehandedly stop injustice. I have no delusions of these kind, but I do feel that my efforts are needed. All of us, every one of us, is called upon to help. Seeing these words again, and then reading Mr. Kristof's column, his claim that "so far there is no Palestinian version of Martin Luther King Jr," I felt them even more powerfully. No one should wait for Gandhi, or Dr. King, or the next great man. That isn't what they taught, and it isn't how they succeeded. History may have elevated them in isolation, but they did not, and could not, have walked alone. At the risk of invoking a cliche seen on stickers and posters in every dorm in the country, Gandhi called us all to be that change we wish to see in the world. This kind of wisdom, that we all have a role to play, a greater cause to serve, a place on the road to our better future, is something that more of us have to take to heart.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 17- Man vs. Wild

Dear Mr. President,

In this time when mother nature is doing her best to remind us that we'll never play in the same league when it comes to death and destruction, it's good to know that some countries are still doing their part to at least keep our skills sharp. CNN has a video of the efforts. Does the Israeli government miss the irony of sending one team to Haiti, to rebuild houses, and another to the West Bank to demolish them, in the same week? Some may find it tasteless of me to invoke a comparison with the much more destructive earthquake, but I find this kind of wanton destruction far more offensive than anything any one can say. (Also, I do not overlook the commendable efforts of the Israelis in Haiti. Israel's moral failings towards the Palestinians do not make it an inherently immoral nation, or lessen the nobility of those efforts.) But I watch this video, and I feel hopeless.

Then I read your speech from this morning. "Sometimes I get a little frustrated when folks just don't want to see that even if we don't get everything, we're getting something....It's not enough, but it's progress. Progress is possible. Don't give up on voting. Don't give up on advocacy. Don't give up on activism. There are too many needs to be met, too much work to be done." "So, yes, we're passing through a hard winter. It's the hardest in some time. But let's always remember that, as a people, the American people, we've weathered some hard winters before."

I do appreciate the idea that suffering makes us stronger. I do appreciate that in the tragic history of Haiti, or Palestine, or America, the obstacles overcome have prepared people for the obstacles ahead. But today, it seems so exhausting to consider. Doesn't it ever end? If an earthquake this horrifying can't make us stop and consider our own actions, our own unnecessary destructiveness, what can?

"There are times when progress seems too slow. There are times when the words that are spoken about me hurt. There are times when the barbs sting. There are times when it feels like all these efforts are for naught, and change is so painfully slow in coming, and I have to confront my own doubts.

But let me tell you -- during those times it's faith that keeps me calm. "

Yes, sir. It seems too slow. It seems too difficult to believe that things will get better, that we will stop being awful and destructive towards one another. And much of the faith that keeps me calm in the face of this is faith in you. It is Sunday, and it is difficult to think this week will be any better than the last. But it seemed impossible that a man like you could ever become President, so, for now, I will stay calm with the faith that things will, slowly, improve.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey