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 Hope and Change. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hope and Change. Show all posts
Friday, December 31, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Day 356- The narrative of the moment
Dear Mr. President,
Yay! You're officially a comeback kid! Did you wake up this week feeling suddenly more powerful than ever before? I ask because the media is abuzz with the story of your late legislative victories, and I can't get rid of this wry smile at the sudden change in narrative. Last week you were ineffective, stymied, your Presidency basically over. Now you're leading congress to more legislative accomplishments, repealing DADT, getting health care benefits for 9/11 first responders, saving the world from the threat of nuclear war with START. You're such a badass. How did things change so quickly?
Thing have not, of course, changed, but the way they are discussed on TV had to change. I'm not sure if this is a reflection of the American public's attention span or just the way the media feels about it, but it can't be a coincidence that every one changed their stories at once. It rings falsely to my ears, anyway. One of my favorite local writers, Paul Constant, agrees, asking that the media "let Bill Clinton's tired "comeback kid" trope molder in the 90s, where it belongs. Things are more complicated now. Don't we deserve a more nuanced media, too?"
Mr. Constant is right when he says "anyone with an ounce of common sense knows that you don't measure a presidency in inches, but these little victories and defeats are what keeps all these unworthy jackasses employed." . His media criticism reminds me of Jon Stewart, who has perfected the art of splicing news clips to show the absurd way one story can be discussed in identical terms. I don't think that you're a different President, that you're working any harder or that you've made any dramatic changes to your approach in the last week. I won't be even a little surprised when, a few weeks or months from now, the narrative changes again and every op-ed writer and pundit is lamenting your stalled/failed/vague/poorly articulated/tone-deaf agenda. As some one with a really unhealthy obsession with political news, I probably find this more annoying than a person who doesn't live and die with these narratives, but I think this practice contributes to our national discourse in an overwhelmingly negative way, encouraging reactionary, short-sighted emotional responses to decisions and events that require more context and perspective.
Just so you know, Mr. President, I'm not buying in to the idea of you being suddenly effective as a leader. For all of my angry, disappointed or nagging letters I've sent this year, I've never stopped appreciating your deliberate, measured approach to things (even when it frustrates the hell out of my hot-headed impulsive side.) I think you're great, but I thought you were great last week, too. I'm proud of what you've achieved and I recognize the magnitude of the work still to be done. This is no time for a victory lap or for complacency. So I hope that you soak up the good press while you've got it, because you know it won't last long.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Yay! You're officially a comeback kid! Did you wake up this week feeling suddenly more powerful than ever before? I ask because the media is abuzz with the story of your late legislative victories, and I can't get rid of this wry smile at the sudden change in narrative. Last week you were ineffective, stymied, your Presidency basically over. Now you're leading congress to more legislative accomplishments, repealing DADT, getting health care benefits for 9/11 first responders, saving the world from the threat of nuclear war with START. You're such a badass. How did things change so quickly?
Thing have not, of course, changed, but the way they are discussed on TV had to change. I'm not sure if this is a reflection of the American public's attention span or just the way the media feels about it, but it can't be a coincidence that every one changed their stories at once. It rings falsely to my ears, anyway. One of my favorite local writers, Paul Constant, agrees, asking that the media "let Bill Clinton's tired "comeback kid" trope molder in the 90s, where it belongs. Things are more complicated now. Don't we deserve a more nuanced media, too?"
Mr. Constant is right when he says "anyone with an ounce of common sense knows that you don't measure a presidency in inches, but these little victories and defeats are what keeps all these unworthy jackasses employed." . His media criticism reminds me of Jon Stewart, who has perfected the art of splicing news clips to show the absurd way one story can be discussed in identical terms. I don't think that you're a different President, that you're working any harder or that you've made any dramatic changes to your approach in the last week. I won't be even a little surprised when, a few weeks or months from now, the narrative changes again and every op-ed writer and pundit is lamenting your stalled/failed/vague/poorly articulated/tone-deaf agenda. As some one with a really unhealthy obsession with political news, I probably find this more annoying than a person who doesn't live and die with these narratives, but I think this practice contributes to our national discourse in an overwhelmingly negative way, encouraging reactionary, short-sighted emotional responses to decisions and events that require more context and perspective.
Just so you know, Mr. President, I'm not buying in to the idea of you being suddenly effective as a leader. For all of my angry, disappointed or nagging letters I've sent this year, I've never stopped appreciating your deliberate, measured approach to things (even when it frustrates the hell out of my hot-headed impulsive side.) I think you're great, but I thought you were great last week, too. I'm proud of what you've achieved and I recognize the magnitude of the work still to be done. This is no time for a victory lap or for complacency. So I hope that you soak up the good press while you've got it, because you know it won't last long.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Day 350- Old photographs
Dear Mr. President,
Today I brought in one of my Senior portraits to show one of my coworkers who'd asked to see what I looked like with dreadlocks. A trip down memory lane always is good for a laugh, (especially when recalling my 18-year-old self's somewhat eccentric fashion sense.) This week, reflecting as I have been on the very different paths so many of my friends from those days have taken, I can't help but wonder if the girl with the purple dreads and the pink satin thrift-store dress over bell-bottom jeans would be happy with the way she's turned out. My wardrobe is certainly more subdued, my hair less exciting, but would she be ok knowing what I've become? What I've failed to become? I may not miss much about being 18, but she had a faith in herself and in her own ability to achieve that's been lost in the years since this picture was taken, and today I miss that faith tremendously.
I've been struggling lately to remind myself that lives and accomplishments can't (and shouldn't) be held up for comparison. The decisions that have led me to my current state may haunt me in the evident joy of those who chose the alternate path, but I cannot evaluate my life against those of my peers. Our circumstances and struggles and goals are very different. It is ultimately the ways I've disappointed my own hopes, and not the ways the my life and accomplishments fail to measure up to those of my friends, that really bother me.
Do you feel like you've lived up to the goals you set for your Presidency? While it may be just as unfair to compare your own achievements to those of previous Presidents, this context is used by media pundits and fellow politicians alike to lend context to your achievements and shortcomings. This may be even more unfair than judging my own life against other 24-year-olds, as
we've come of age in the same era while your predecessors had very different social, congressional and economic situations. I reject the comparisons to Presidents Clinton, Carter and Bush (I & II) but I do wonder about the ways you've disappointed your own hopes and expectations. Today's tax compromise cannot feel like you'd imagined running the country would feel when you were campaigning.
I'm probably just projecting my own soul-searching onto you, but I think that such an ugly political defeat would have to make you reflect on the things you said you'd do once you got to the White House. I wish I had something cheerful or comforting to say, but I can only hope that both of us find the strength to face our reflections tomorrow morning. Our accomplishments, past and to come, mean nothing without it. And, be it because of the judgement of old photographs or the way we suffer in comparison to others, I think that there is some good, some hope, so long as we maintain the honesty necessary to feel our disappointment in ourselves.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Today I brought in one of my Senior portraits to show one of my coworkers who'd asked to see what I looked like with dreadlocks. A trip down memory lane always is good for a laugh, (especially when recalling my 18-year-old self's somewhat eccentric fashion sense.) This week, reflecting as I have been on the very different paths so many of my friends from those days have taken, I can't help but wonder if the girl with the purple dreads and the pink satin thrift-store dress over bell-bottom jeans would be happy with the way she's turned out. My wardrobe is certainly more subdued, my hair less exciting, but would she be ok knowing what I've become? What I've failed to become? I may not miss much about being 18, but she had a faith in herself and in her own ability to achieve that's been lost in the years since this picture was taken, and today I miss that faith tremendously.
I've been struggling lately to remind myself that lives and accomplishments can't (and shouldn't) be held up for comparison. The decisions that have led me to my current state may haunt me in the evident joy of those who chose the alternate path, but I cannot evaluate my life against those of my peers. Our circumstances and struggles and goals are very different. It is ultimately the ways I've disappointed my own hopes, and not the ways the my life and accomplishments fail to measure up to those of my friends, that really bother me.
Do you feel like you've lived up to the goals you set for your Presidency? While it may be just as unfair to compare your own achievements to those of previous Presidents, this context is used by media pundits and fellow politicians alike to lend context to your achievements and shortcomings. This may be even more unfair than judging my own life against other 24-year-olds, as
we've come of age in the same era while your predecessors had very different social, congressional and economic situations. I reject the comparisons to Presidents Clinton, Carter and Bush (I & II) but I do wonder about the ways you've disappointed your own hopes and expectations. Today's tax compromise cannot feel like you'd imagined running the country would feel when you were campaigning.
I'm probably just projecting my own soul-searching onto you, but I think that such an ugly political defeat would have to make you reflect on the things you said you'd do once you got to the White House. I wish I had something cheerful or comforting to say, but I can only hope that both of us find the strength to face our reflections tomorrow morning. Our accomplishments, past and to come, mean nothing without it. And, be it because of the judgement of old photographs or the way we suffer in comparison to others, I think that there is some good, some hope, so long as we maintain the honesty necessary to feel our disappointment in ourselves.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Day 343- Tax cuts, bandwagons and war drums
Dear Mr. President,
OK, I get it already. Lots of prominent leaders across the political spectrum have come out in support of your tax cut compromise with the Republicans. I mean lots. And releasing their endorsements one at a time in separate press releases was pretty funny. Gail Collins pointed out that liberal Democrats have been asking you to get mad for a while, and now we're complaining that you finally got mad- at us. And you have every right to be mad, I suppose, as none of us were mad enough to show up on election day and give you a congress that might have your back (though, to be entirely fair, you might have found better ways to spend the primary season than propping up every tired blue-dog with a pulse.) For all of my suggestions that you either refuse tax cuts for the rich or refuse tax cuts for all of us, I wasn't the one responsible for negotiating the compromise (and I won't be the one responsible for negotiating the next 2 years worth of legislation through congress.) You made a call and now you're standing by it.
Collins, in her opinion piece, laments those on the left still landing hard from their fall off of the Obama bandwagon, while smugly declaring her own fall is off of the "line in the sand bandwagon". I suppose I might also be accused of letting my loyalty to you as a person & my membership in the cult of personality surrounding you conflict with my true bleeding-heart liberalism. As many who supported you in 2008 walk away, disappointed, decrying the whole bandwagon mentality, I wish I could join them. Maybe it's a mark of an inferior mind to need a higher authority to place my faith in, but I haven't still haven't heard a better alternative. Should the anti-bandwagon crowd offer me another leader, or convince me that we don't need one, maybe that will change. For now, while I often think that you're wrong, but I'd never trust myself to do your job better.
In all of the outrage about tax rates and the inexplicable failing of the cloture motion to repeal DADT, I was getting more fed up with congress than with you. To add to all of this, the House has passed legislation preventing any Guantanamo Bay detainees from being brought to domestic prisons. Today has not done much for my rapidly dwindling faith in the American people and those we elect to represent us.
My own time has been selfishly consumed with a struggle to finish my final papers for class, study for my exams, and maintain something that resembles sanity closely enough to keep my boss from worrying about me. I can't fix the economy, I can't get basic equality for gay and lesbian Americans and I can't close down Guantanamo bay. I jumped on your bandwagon in the first place because you said that you could. And while my frustration might be more deserved by several members of congress and those who didn't find the time to vote in the midterm elections, unfortunately you're the one I picked for a pen pal. We can't possibly be losing the fight on this many fronts at once.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
PS
The only thing that's bolstered my spirits today is the news that Suheir Hammad, one of my favorite poets, will be speaking at a TED conference soon. They published the text of her poem "What I will" and I thought I'd send it along to you.
What I Will
by Suheir Hammad
I will not
dance to your war
drum. I will
not lend my soul nor
my bones to your war
drum. I will
not dance to your
beating. I know that beat.
It is lifeless. I know
intimately that skin
you are hitting. It
was alive once
hunted stolen
stretched. I will
not dance to your drummed
up war. I will not pop
spin beak for you. I
will not hate for you or
even hate you. I will
not kill for you. Especially
I will not die
for you. I will not mourn
the dead with murder nor
suicide. I will not side
with you nor dance to bombs
because everyone else is
dancing. Everyone can be
wrong. Life is a right not
collateral or casual. I
will not forget where
I come from. I
will craft my own drum. Gather my beloved
near and our chanting
will be dancing. Our
humming will be drumming. I
will not be played. I
will not lend my name
nor my rhythm to your
beat. I will dance
and resist and dance and
persist and dance. This heartbeat is louder than
death. Your war drum ain’t
louder than this breath.
OK, I get it already. Lots of prominent leaders across the political spectrum have come out in support of your tax cut compromise with the Republicans. I mean lots. And releasing their endorsements one at a time in separate press releases was pretty funny. Gail Collins pointed out that liberal Democrats have been asking you to get mad for a while, and now we're complaining that you finally got mad- at us. And you have every right to be mad, I suppose, as none of us were mad enough to show up on election day and give you a congress that might have your back (though, to be entirely fair, you might have found better ways to spend the primary season than propping up every tired blue-dog with a pulse.) For all of my suggestions that you either refuse tax cuts for the rich or refuse tax cuts for all of us, I wasn't the one responsible for negotiating the compromise (and I won't be the one responsible for negotiating the next 2 years worth of legislation through congress.) You made a call and now you're standing by it.
Collins, in her opinion piece, laments those on the left still landing hard from their fall off of the Obama bandwagon, while smugly declaring her own fall is off of the "line in the sand bandwagon". I suppose I might also be accused of letting my loyalty to you as a person & my membership in the cult of personality surrounding you conflict with my true bleeding-heart liberalism. As many who supported you in 2008 walk away, disappointed, decrying the whole bandwagon mentality, I wish I could join them. Maybe it's a mark of an inferior mind to need a higher authority to place my faith in, but I haven't still haven't heard a better alternative. Should the anti-bandwagon crowd offer me another leader, or convince me that we don't need one, maybe that will change. For now, while I often think that you're wrong, but I'd never trust myself to do your job better.
In all of the outrage about tax rates and the inexplicable failing of the cloture motion to repeal DADT, I was getting more fed up with congress than with you. To add to all of this, the House has passed legislation preventing any Guantanamo Bay detainees from being brought to domestic prisons. Today has not done much for my rapidly dwindling faith in the American people and those we elect to represent us.
My own time has been selfishly consumed with a struggle to finish my final papers for class, study for my exams, and maintain something that resembles sanity closely enough to keep my boss from worrying about me. I can't fix the economy, I can't get basic equality for gay and lesbian Americans and I can't close down Guantanamo bay. I jumped on your bandwagon in the first place because you said that you could. And while my frustration might be more deserved by several members of congress and those who didn't find the time to vote in the midterm elections, unfortunately you're the one I picked for a pen pal. We can't possibly be losing the fight on this many fronts at once.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
PS
The only thing that's bolstered my spirits today is the news that Suheir Hammad, one of my favorite poets, will be speaking at a TED conference soon. They published the text of her poem "What I will" and I thought I'd send it along to you.
What I Will
by Suheir Hammad
I will not
dance to your war
drum. I will
not lend my soul nor
my bones to your war
drum. I will
not dance to your
beating. I know that beat.
It is lifeless. I know
intimately that skin
you are hitting. It
was alive once
hunted stolen
stretched. I will
not dance to your drummed
up war. I will not pop
spin beak for you. I
will not hate for you or
even hate you. I will
not kill for you. Especially
I will not die
for you. I will not mourn
the dead with murder nor
suicide. I will not side
with you nor dance to bombs
because everyone else is
dancing. Everyone can be
wrong. Life is a right not
collateral or casual. I
will not forget where
I come from. I
will craft my own drum. Gather my beloved
near and our chanting
will be dancing. Our
humming will be drumming. I
will not be played. I
will not lend my name
nor my rhythm to your
beat. I will dance
and resist and dance and
persist and dance. This heartbeat is louder than
death. Your war drum ain’t
louder than this breath.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Day 337- A different path
Dear Mr. President,
Today I caught a girl my own age shoplifting. She told us she's been using heroin since the age of 17. She has two children, who she no longer has custody of, and was visibly suffering the effects of her addiction. While I have no regrets about catching her and sending her to jail, I was a little shocked by how much sympathy I felt for her situation. I couldn't help but wonder how easily I might have found myself down a similar path. I can't imagine the life decisions that lead to an existence like hers, but, even after I clocked out for the night, her story lingered in my mind.
It reminds me that criminals, the anonymous numbers filling prisons around the country, are all stories and decisions and pieces of families. That they are not anonymous. When a friend pointed out to me that you finally got around to issuing pardons for non-turkeys, I was hopeful that you'd had a similar reminder, that your compassion for those who have wandered too far down the wrong path was guiding you to act.
Sadly, your 9 pardons all went to offenders who were not currently serving prison time (and a few who never received prison time at all.) Instead of using your Presidential powers to commute sentences and give worthy applicants a second chance at life, you seem to be on track to match Presiden't Bush's abysmally thin pardon record.
Mr. President, you have a difficult job. Getting legislation passed, appointees confirmed, or policies changed requires the cooperation of the near-useless houses of congress. You don't get to wave your hand and change the world, or even the country. But the pardon is one power that is left almost entirely to your own discretion. You could make a difference, change the lives of so many who have been unjustly punished. This is something you don't need the Republicans to agree to, something you don't have to negotiate through endless bureaucratic nonsense. You have the power to look past the numbers and the sentencing minimums and recognize the human stories behind the charges. I was reminded today how random and cruel life can be, how any of us could find ourselves years down the wrong path with no viable way out. If I had your power, I'd want to do whatever I could to help give people a second chance.
I hope that, going forward, you make better use of that power.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Today I caught a girl my own age shoplifting. She told us she's been using heroin since the age of 17. She has two children, who she no longer has custody of, and was visibly suffering the effects of her addiction. While I have no regrets about catching her and sending her to jail, I was a little shocked by how much sympathy I felt for her situation. I couldn't help but wonder how easily I might have found myself down a similar path. I can't imagine the life decisions that lead to an existence like hers, but, even after I clocked out for the night, her story lingered in my mind.
It reminds me that criminals, the anonymous numbers filling prisons around the country, are all stories and decisions and pieces of families. That they are not anonymous. When a friend pointed out to me that you finally got around to issuing pardons for non-turkeys, I was hopeful that you'd had a similar reminder, that your compassion for those who have wandered too far down the wrong path was guiding you to act.
Sadly, your 9 pardons all went to offenders who were not currently serving prison time (and a few who never received prison time at all.) Instead of using your Presidential powers to commute sentences and give worthy applicants a second chance at life, you seem to be on track to match Presiden't Bush's abysmally thin pardon record.
Mr. President, you have a difficult job. Getting legislation passed, appointees confirmed, or policies changed requires the cooperation of the near-useless houses of congress. You don't get to wave your hand and change the world, or even the country. But the pardon is one power that is left almost entirely to your own discretion. You could make a difference, change the lives of so many who have been unjustly punished. This is something you don't need the Republicans to agree to, something you don't have to negotiate through endless bureaucratic nonsense. You have the power to look past the numbers and the sentencing minimums and recognize the human stories behind the charges. I was reminded today how random and cruel life can be, how any of us could find ourselves years down the wrong path with no viable way out. If I had your power, I'd want to do whatever I could to help give people a second chance.
I hope that, going forward, you make better use of that power.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Day 336- In which everything goes wrong
Dear Mr. President,
Everything is going wrong today. I overslept and missed an important guest speaker in my morning class. I wasted way too much time reading internet news. I got a massive headache. A shoplifter at work got away and made me feel weak, slow and clumsy in the process (but at least got rid of my headache.) I'm an unacceptable level of upset about a boy, I'm terrible with money and I'm not even being a particularly good sister or daughter these days. I feel like an unqualified failure at just about every aspect of my life. So I can't write about tax-cut negotiations or human rights abuses or the death of the American Dream today. I'll probably be all over this by tomorrow, but tonight I have to write about positive things.
On the local level, the city of Seattle won National Novel Writing Month for the 4th year in a row. By 8 million words. (Not that I'm rubbing it in, or anything, LA.) Seattle continues to shine as a literary center for emerging writers, and while I did not participate this year (writing to you keeps me busy enough) I'm proud of my friends who did. Many approach November with more than a little disdain for the competition, which is won by every one who reaches 50,000 words by Nov. 30th, but I think that anything that combines charitable donations (Seattle alone donated $10K to youth writing causes) with a sense of community for the often solitary experience of novel writing ought to be applauded. Many great novels are born in these thirty days each year, and even those that will never see publication or fame or fortune will at least have the sense of such a tremendous accomplishment.
Nationally, NASA had me thinking they were going to announce the existence of extraterrestrial life, but I suppose an arsenic-based life form is pretty cool, too.
Finally, while this may seem a bit mean-spirited of me to count as a positive thing, Nigeria is pursuing a case against Dick Cheney for bribes paid to Nigerian officials by Halliburton. I don't imagine for a second that Cheney will actually ever see the inside of a courtroom, let alone be brought to justice, but still it's nice to see that sometimes that bad ones get theirs, too.
I'm in a better mood already. On a related note, a man walking two giant English Mastiffs just walked by the coffeeshop window, and I need to go pet them. The only thing that makes me happier than a city full of badass writers, an entirely new form of life, and a justice system (any justice system) with the courage to stand up to Dick Cheney is giant puppies. I hope you aren't also feeling like an abject failure tonight, but if you are, you should probably just play with Bo for a while. Trust me, it helps.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Everything is going wrong today. I overslept and missed an important guest speaker in my morning class. I wasted way too much time reading internet news. I got a massive headache. A shoplifter at work got away and made me feel weak, slow and clumsy in the process (but at least got rid of my headache.) I'm an unacceptable level of upset about a boy, I'm terrible with money and I'm not even being a particularly good sister or daughter these days. I feel like an unqualified failure at just about every aspect of my life. So I can't write about tax-cut negotiations or human rights abuses or the death of the American Dream today. I'll probably be all over this by tomorrow, but tonight I have to write about positive things.
On the local level, the city of Seattle won National Novel Writing Month for the 4th year in a row. By 8 million words. (Not that I'm rubbing it in, or anything, LA.) Seattle continues to shine as a literary center for emerging writers, and while I did not participate this year (writing to you keeps me busy enough) I'm proud of my friends who did. Many approach November with more than a little disdain for the competition, which is won by every one who reaches 50,000 words by Nov. 30th, but I think that anything that combines charitable donations (Seattle alone donated $10K to youth writing causes) with a sense of community for the often solitary experience of novel writing ought to be applauded. Many great novels are born in these thirty days each year, and even those that will never see publication or fame or fortune will at least have the sense of such a tremendous accomplishment.
Nationally, NASA had me thinking they were going to announce the existence of extraterrestrial life, but I suppose an arsenic-based life form is pretty cool, too.
Finally, while this may seem a bit mean-spirited of me to count as a positive thing, Nigeria is pursuing a case against Dick Cheney for bribes paid to Nigerian officials by Halliburton. I don't imagine for a second that Cheney will actually ever see the inside of a courtroom, let alone be brought to justice, but still it's nice to see that sometimes that bad ones get theirs, too.
I'm in a better mood already. On a related note, a man walking two giant English Mastiffs just walked by the coffeeshop window, and I need to go pet them. The only thing that makes me happier than a city full of badass writers, an entirely new form of life, and a justice system (any justice system) with the courage to stand up to Dick Cheney is giant puppies. I hope you aren't also feeling like an abject failure tonight, but if you are, you should probably just play with Bo for a while. Trust me, it helps.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Day 331- A change of heart
Dear Mr. President,
Former Supreme Court Justice John Paul Stevens has changed his views on the constitutionality of the death penalty. Thirty-four years after deciding with the majority to reinstate capital punishment, Stevens has cited judicial activism, rampant systematic racism and the hysteria of those making life or death decisions as evidence that the death penalty, at least in its current form, is not consistent with the constitution. While this change of heart does nothing for the 1,100-some hearts stopped in the interim years, it does demonstrate an admirable commitment to the higher purpose of the law; a commitment unshaken even by the fear of backing down from such a public position on such a difficult issue.
To see a change like this in such a high-profile individual is astounding. How often do we hear politicians or judges admit they were wrong? How often does the synthesis of new information or insight (rather than the cynical hope of political gain) actually change the entrenched views of our leaders? While, as a result of my own ideology, I am certainly more impressed than I would be if Justice Stevens' opinion had changed the other way, I think that the power of this announcement is not in the moral soundness of his judgement but in his willingness to admit that his previous position was wrong.
I hope that you carefully consider the Justice's words on the subject. I, like Justice Stevens, do not believe that capital punishment has a place in our legal system, and I hope that you take this opportunity to question your own position on the issue. Unlike Justice Stevens, whose changing heart cannot hope to change many lives, you are in a position to help those unjustly affected by this policy. Read the Justice's essay, Mr. President, and see if your own heart is not moved to make the same change.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Former Supreme Court Justice John Paul Stevens has changed his views on the constitutionality of the death penalty. Thirty-four years after deciding with the majority to reinstate capital punishment, Stevens has cited judicial activism, rampant systematic racism and the hysteria of those making life or death decisions as evidence that the death penalty, at least in its current form, is not consistent with the constitution. While this change of heart does nothing for the 1,100-some hearts stopped in the interim years, it does demonstrate an admirable commitment to the higher purpose of the law; a commitment unshaken even by the fear of backing down from such a public position on such a difficult issue.
To see a change like this in such a high-profile individual is astounding. How often do we hear politicians or judges admit they were wrong? How often does the synthesis of new information or insight (rather than the cynical hope of political gain) actually change the entrenched views of our leaders? While, as a result of my own ideology, I am certainly more impressed than I would be if Justice Stevens' opinion had changed the other way, I think that the power of this announcement is not in the moral soundness of his judgement but in his willingness to admit that his previous position was wrong.
I hope that you carefully consider the Justice's words on the subject. I, like Justice Stevens, do not believe that capital punishment has a place in our legal system, and I hope that you take this opportunity to question your own position on the issue. Unlike Justice Stevens, whose changing heart cannot hope to change many lives, you are in a position to help those unjustly affected by this policy. Read the Justice's essay, Mr. President, and see if your own heart is not moved to make the same change.
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
Monday, November 8, 2010
Day 312- Quack. Quack. Quack.
Dear Mr. President,
For all the prattle about the new agenda of the Republican-controlled Houe, the year isn't quite over. While the lame-duck session may be a short one, and subject to the unfortunate political reality of a weakened Democratic party, I hope that repealing DADT is given the effort it deserves. The support of Defense Secretary Robert Gates for such a repeal (and his sage urging that the repeal take place before the new year) should indicate enough will within the military establishment to pull off such a herculean task.
I suppose my usual cynical dismissal of the political courage of Democrats will kick in any moment, but I actually feel pretty confident about the prospects of a lame-duck session. From my perspective, the Senate has been governing like lame-duck senators since 2008. It seems as though there is at least the same chance of the repeal as there was before the election.
As usual, I believe that the Senate's action on this issue will be a direct result of White House leadership. Only Presidential direction and political influence will ensure that the Democrats are successful in this attempt. Coming through on this major campaign promise would be an encouraging sign to all of your supporters that, even after a loss like the midterms, you aren't giving up on the change we were promised.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
For all the prattle about the new agenda of the Republican-controlled Houe, the year isn't quite over. While the lame-duck session may be a short one, and subject to the unfortunate political reality of a weakened Democratic party, I hope that repealing DADT is given the effort it deserves. The support of Defense Secretary Robert Gates for such a repeal (and his sage urging that the repeal take place before the new year) should indicate enough will within the military establishment to pull off such a herculean task.
I suppose my usual cynical dismissal of the political courage of Democrats will kick in any moment, but I actually feel pretty confident about the prospects of a lame-duck session. From my perspective, the Senate has been governing like lame-duck senators since 2008. It seems as though there is at least the same chance of the repeal as there was before the election.
As usual, I believe that the Senate's action on this issue will be a direct result of White House leadership. Only Presidential direction and political influence will ensure that the Democrats are successful in this attempt. Coming through on this major campaign promise would be an encouraging sign to all of your supporters that, even after a loss like the midterms, you aren't giving up on the change we were promised.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Day 307- It's called a break-up because it's broken
Dear Mr. President,
So this morning my promised renewal of hope and optimism in the face of setbacks has not emerged. It could be that the demands of my school schedule this week have made "morning" a purely sunlight-relative term with little correlation to actual sleep. It could be the lingering questions as ballots are slowly processed in my home state. It could be denial, a malaise delaying the inevitable grief I can't yet allow myself to feel the full force of. I did like your speech today, and I thought you made several important points about the need to fundamentally change parts of our governing system.
I'm sure I won't be the first, last or most important person to say this, but I don't think this election means you should back down. Your agenda shouldn't change, shouldn't be compromised and should not be tempered. (Which is not say that compromise won't eventually be necessary.) Democrats should not give up on comprehensive energy, immigration, campaign finance and tax reform. For one thing, conceding too much at this point will only further weaken our positions once legislative battles really get underway. For another thing, i still think we're right; our policies are better, and our plan for America is the best one. Refusing to compromise our fundamental values is the only way to ensure that losing the house doesn't translate into losing the White House. This isn't to say that we shouldn't work with the Republican leadership, only that we should not be meek about demonstrating our goals and ideals to the American people.
A friend compared the way we feel this morning to the way we feel after a bad breakup. I think his metaphor is an apt one. After a break-up, you may re-examine your choices and your mistakes in the course of a relationship, but you don't change your identity in hopes that you won't get dumped again. Democrats need to work on our communication skills, our self-confidence, our willingness to assert ourselves. We might need to lose 5 lbs and reconsider our highlight strategy. Our wardrobe could probably use an update. But we do not change who we are, fundamentally. The things we believe, the things we value, all of the things that make us different from the opposition, those should not change. In the meantime, if you want to stay in bed and watch soap operas while eating chocolate ice cream in your pajamas for a day or so, well, you do whatever it takes to get through this. I know I will.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
So this morning my promised renewal of hope and optimism in the face of setbacks has not emerged. It could be that the demands of my school schedule this week have made "morning" a purely sunlight-relative term with little correlation to actual sleep. It could be the lingering questions as ballots are slowly processed in my home state. It could be denial, a malaise delaying the inevitable grief I can't yet allow myself to feel the full force of. I did like your speech today, and I thought you made several important points about the need to fundamentally change parts of our governing system.
I'm sure I won't be the first, last or most important person to say this, but I don't think this election means you should back down. Your agenda shouldn't change, shouldn't be compromised and should not be tempered. (Which is not say that compromise won't eventually be necessary.) Democrats should not give up on comprehensive energy, immigration, campaign finance and tax reform. For one thing, conceding too much at this point will only further weaken our positions once legislative battles really get underway. For another thing, i still think we're right; our policies are better, and our plan for America is the best one. Refusing to compromise our fundamental values is the only way to ensure that losing the house doesn't translate into losing the White House. This isn't to say that we shouldn't work with the Republican leadership, only that we should not be meek about demonstrating our goals and ideals to the American people.
A friend compared the way we feel this morning to the way we feel after a bad breakup. I think his metaphor is an apt one. After a break-up, you may re-examine your choices and your mistakes in the course of a relationship, but you don't change your identity in hopes that you won't get dumped again. Democrats need to work on our communication skills, our self-confidence, our willingness to assert ourselves. We might need to lose 5 lbs and reconsider our highlight strategy. Our wardrobe could probably use an update. But we do not change who we are, fundamentally. The things we believe, the things we value, all of the things that make us different from the opposition, those should not change. In the meantime, if you want to stay in bed and watch soap operas while eating chocolate ice cream in your pajamas for a day or so, well, you do whatever it takes to get through this. I know I will.
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, October 20, 2010
Day 293- Hypothetical questions
Dear Mr. President,
You're speaking at my school tomorrow. I don't think you'll be taking any questions from the audience, and, if you are, it is unlikely that I'll be lucky enough to ask one. Still, I thought it might be useful to pose a few, even if they are about as practical as shouting into the darkness and waiting for a response more coherent than another spinning echo.
Mr. President, you say that the Republican partisan minority is holding up the legislative process through the filibuster, when not a single filibuster has been staged during the legislative session. Why have you not directed Democratic leadership to force the Republicans to follow through on their threats and given the American people a clear demonstration of who is responsible for the hold ups?
Mr. President, your political opponents seem determined to paint you as anti-Israeli no matter what you do. If nothing will please them, why not take an actual stand against the brutality and injustice perpetrated by the Netanyahu government? You could increase our credibility as an honest broker in the peace talks and make a stand against human right violations, a seeming win-win, considering the political capital is going to be spent either way. So why not change the tactic that hasn't worked for any past American President trying to help create peace?
Mr. President, you've made the convincing argument that allowing Republican's control of the legislative branch will return our country to the disastrous policies of the bush era. While this "lesser of two evils" tactic might convince a few independents, why have you risked alienating the liberal base of the democratic party by dismissing our legitimate complaints about policy compromises that represent real hardship for real people as "griping and groaning"?
Mr. President, when Republicans lost control of congress and the White House in 2006 and 2008, the party soul-searching that followed led to a dramatic return to the angriest voices of their far-right base, the Tea Party. If liberal Democrats want our elected officials to stand up for our beliefs and interests, will it take the same kind of losses in November and in 2012?
Mr. President, the wars in Iraq, (in all but name,) and Afghanistan continue. Guantanamo bay remains open. How can America lead the world toward peace and a greater respect for human rights while we continue these immoral (and, I would argue, strategically failed) efforts?
Mr. President, at a town hall meeting not long ago, you were told by a woman that she was tired of trying to defend you to those who had lost their faith in you. I, too, am tired of being disappointed and tired of being ignored. I believe that your job is more difficult than any one in this room can possibly fathom, and I am certain you are even more tired and even less prone to complain about it. I will continue defending you, sir, I have not lost my faith. Thank you for all that you've done for our country, and please, don't confuse my constant (and continuing) criticism of your policy for cynicism, apathy, or betrayal. I still have hope that you can do better, that you have the right idea, and that you need a supportive, open-minded and informed electorate. So I guess I don't have a questions as much as I want to say that as disappointed as I am in you, I'm way more disappointed in the rest of us.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
You're speaking at my school tomorrow. I don't think you'll be taking any questions from the audience, and, if you are, it is unlikely that I'll be lucky enough to ask one. Still, I thought it might be useful to pose a few, even if they are about as practical as shouting into the darkness and waiting for a response more coherent than another spinning echo.
Mr. President, you say that the Republican partisan minority is holding up the legislative process through the filibuster, when not a single filibuster has been staged during the legislative session. Why have you not directed Democratic leadership to force the Republicans to follow through on their threats and given the American people a clear demonstration of who is responsible for the hold ups?
Mr. President, your political opponents seem determined to paint you as anti-Israeli no matter what you do. If nothing will please them, why not take an actual stand against the brutality and injustice perpetrated by the Netanyahu government? You could increase our credibility as an honest broker in the peace talks and make a stand against human right violations, a seeming win-win, considering the political capital is going to be spent either way. So why not change the tactic that hasn't worked for any past American President trying to help create peace?
Mr. President, you've made the convincing argument that allowing Republican's control of the legislative branch will return our country to the disastrous policies of the bush era. While this "lesser of two evils" tactic might convince a few independents, why have you risked alienating the liberal base of the democratic party by dismissing our legitimate complaints about policy compromises that represent real hardship for real people as "griping and groaning"?
Mr. President, when Republicans lost control of congress and the White House in 2006 and 2008, the party soul-searching that followed led to a dramatic return to the angriest voices of their far-right base, the Tea Party. If liberal Democrats want our elected officials to stand up for our beliefs and interests, will it take the same kind of losses in November and in 2012?
Mr. President, the wars in Iraq, (in all but name,) and Afghanistan continue. Guantanamo bay remains open. How can America lead the world toward peace and a greater respect for human rights while we continue these immoral (and, I would argue, strategically failed) efforts?
Mr. President, at a town hall meeting not long ago, you were told by a woman that she was tired of trying to defend you to those who had lost their faith in you. I, too, am tired of being disappointed and tired of being ignored. I believe that your job is more difficult than any one in this room can possibly fathom, and I am certain you are even more tired and even less prone to complain about it. I will continue defending you, sir, I have not lost my faith. Thank you for all that you've done for our country, and please, don't confuse my constant (and continuing) criticism of your policy for cynicism, apathy, or betrayal. I still have hope that you can do better, that you have the right idea, and that you need a supportive, open-minded and informed electorate. So I guess I don't have a questions as much as I want to say that as disappointed as I am in you, I'm way more disappointed in the rest of us.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Day 289- A bit late
Dear Mr. President,
It's much later than I usually post my letter to you. Since it won't, at all, affect the time you receive the letter, I'm sure this will go unnoticed. I like to think my excuse- I was playing my oft-repeated role as Designated Driver for a few friends who'd had way too much to drink- is worthy enough that those who do read this online won't judge me for missing midnight by several hours. I spent the evening around people I care about, people I respect, people who have achieved the kind of goals in life I'm supposed to be setting for myself- graduate degrees, successful careers, marriage, family- and found very little to make me want any of it. Through it all I felt incredibly out of place, unable to relate to the things that make them happy or even the things they find important. By the end of the night, as I was attempting to herd drunk friend into safe modes of transportation and get them home, I'd been thinking a lot about the midterms.
I started the night out with a clear agenda, an ambitious idea of how the night would go and what was important to me. l was quickly forced to compromise. The conflicting agendas of others, the logistical complications, the whole evening began to feel a lot like I've always imagined negotiating a piece of legislation through congress would feel. By the time I was struggling with drunk friends to keep them safe and get them home, I felt like I was fighting the forces of gravity just to hold my sanity together. Forget about my agenda; it had been lost for hours. Not to belittle the complexity of your current political situation, by comparing to to a bunch of drunk kids at a bar, or anything. You're a big fan of the responsible-driver vs. the republicans metaphor, and tonight i regretted ever cynically complaining about how overused that particular fable has become in your stump speech. The whole country handed you the keys and said they were just going to have a couple beers. You look around now and every one is screaming about marxism and your birth certificate and Obamacare and you have to wonder why you agreed to stay sober in the first place. No one will listen to you, or take your advice, or let you just fix things the way you want to. Even when inebriated, we Americans tend to be pretty protective of the idea of our own superior judgement as individuals.
I don't imagine that I've done anything more tonight than found a small my-life-sized analogy to the massive problems and struggles you face. But I think you're making the right call. Because, for a moment, I leaned back against my friend's car to appreciate the stars, and thought about the absurdity of it all. I almost laughed, because the night had already gotten so far away from funny that there was nothing else to do. I don't know if it helped me at all, but I can say that at least no one got hurt, and at least every one got to a safe place to sleep. You may have had the most tedious night of your life and be surrounded on all sides by fellow Democrats stumbling and senseless with the fear of the whims of a capricious public, but you're still criss-crossing the campaign trail, making your case, recognizing that even if you can't keep your agenda you can at least get every one home in one piece.
It's a tough job, but somebody has to do it. Tonight, I am immensely grateful that it's you and not me.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
It's much later than I usually post my letter to you. Since it won't, at all, affect the time you receive the letter, I'm sure this will go unnoticed. I like to think my excuse- I was playing my oft-repeated role as Designated Driver for a few friends who'd had way too much to drink- is worthy enough that those who do read this online won't judge me for missing midnight by several hours. I spent the evening around people I care about, people I respect, people who have achieved the kind of goals in life I'm supposed to be setting for myself- graduate degrees, successful careers, marriage, family- and found very little to make me want any of it. Through it all I felt incredibly out of place, unable to relate to the things that make them happy or even the things they find important. By the end of the night, as I was attempting to herd drunk friend into safe modes of transportation and get them home, I'd been thinking a lot about the midterms.
I started the night out with a clear agenda, an ambitious idea of how the night would go and what was important to me. l was quickly forced to compromise. The conflicting agendas of others, the logistical complications, the whole evening began to feel a lot like I've always imagined negotiating a piece of legislation through congress would feel. By the time I was struggling with drunk friends to keep them safe and get them home, I felt like I was fighting the forces of gravity just to hold my sanity together. Forget about my agenda; it had been lost for hours. Not to belittle the complexity of your current political situation, by comparing to to a bunch of drunk kids at a bar, or anything. You're a big fan of the responsible-driver vs. the republicans metaphor, and tonight i regretted ever cynically complaining about how overused that particular fable has become in your stump speech. The whole country handed you the keys and said they were just going to have a couple beers. You look around now and every one is screaming about marxism and your birth certificate and Obamacare and you have to wonder why you agreed to stay sober in the first place. No one will listen to you, or take your advice, or let you just fix things the way you want to. Even when inebriated, we Americans tend to be pretty protective of the idea of our own superior judgement as individuals.
I don't imagine that I've done anything more tonight than found a small my-life-sized analogy to the massive problems and struggles you face. But I think you're making the right call. Because, for a moment, I leaned back against my friend's car to appreciate the stars, and thought about the absurdity of it all. I almost laughed, because the night had already gotten so far away from funny that there was nothing else to do. I don't know if it helped me at all, but I can say that at least no one got hurt, and at least every one got to a safe place to sleep. You may have had the most tedious night of your life and be surrounded on all sides by fellow Democrats stumbling and senseless with the fear of the whims of a capricious public, but you're still criss-crossing the campaign trail, making your case, recognizing that even if you can't keep your agenda you can at least get every one home in one piece.
It's a tough job, but somebody has to do it. Tonight, I am immensely grateful that it's you and not me.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Friday, October 15, 2010
Day 288- Lost
Dear Mr. President,
Tonight I thought about writing to you about Bill O'Reilly on The View, or a FOX news reporter claiming "all terrorists are Muslims" or maybe your own administration's heel-dragging on Don't Ask Don't Tell. I probably should write about one of these things, but I've been stuck feeling listless this week, and I just can't summon the inspiration to articulate what I think about any of these stories in an interesting way.
I'm not sure what's wrong, exactly. I seem to have lost the focus and drive that normally get me through. I don't know what it is I'm working for or what will make me happy. The suffering I read about in the news or see in other people is overwhelming. What kind of future can I hope to enjoy when so many people are going through so many bad things?
I've been prone to these moods my whole life. I call it my place of darkness. It isn't that I'm giving up, I'm just recalibrating, I think, trying to gauge what my priorities and needs and goals are, or what they should be. This whole letter-writing project was born out of a similar mood, a desire to speak to power even if my voice went unacknowledged in the cacophony of other voices. I may post these letters, copy them out and mail them to the White House, but I think we both know I'm writing for me more than I'm writing for you. I need to believe the world will get better, that we're all moving through these difficult times toward a brighter future. And maybe these letters are my way of whistling past the graveyard, the haunting fear of failure or of inconsequence that keeps me moving even when I'm not certain why or where I'm headed.
I have to just give myself permission to feel lost. I try not to let hopelessness or aimlessness take over for too long. I'm going to find my sense of purpose again, in a few days or a few weeks or a few months. For now, I think a good night's sleep is better than another hour surfing news sights for some sign of hope.
I hope you have a good weekend.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Tonight I thought about writing to you about Bill O'Reilly on The View, or a FOX news reporter claiming "all terrorists are Muslims" or maybe your own administration's heel-dragging on Don't Ask Don't Tell. I probably should write about one of these things, but I've been stuck feeling listless this week, and I just can't summon the inspiration to articulate what I think about any of these stories in an interesting way.
I'm not sure what's wrong, exactly. I seem to have lost the focus and drive that normally get me through. I don't know what it is I'm working for or what will make me happy. The suffering I read about in the news or see in other people is overwhelming. What kind of future can I hope to enjoy when so many people are going through so many bad things?
I've been prone to these moods my whole life. I call it my place of darkness. It isn't that I'm giving up, I'm just recalibrating, I think, trying to gauge what my priorities and needs and goals are, or what they should be. This whole letter-writing project was born out of a similar mood, a desire to speak to power even if my voice went unacknowledged in the cacophony of other voices. I may post these letters, copy them out and mail them to the White House, but I think we both know I'm writing for me more than I'm writing for you. I need to believe the world will get better, that we're all moving through these difficult times toward a brighter future. And maybe these letters are my way of whistling past the graveyard, the haunting fear of failure or of inconsequence that keeps me moving even when I'm not certain why or where I'm headed.
I have to just give myself permission to feel lost. I try not to let hopelessness or aimlessness take over for too long. I'm going to find my sense of purpose again, in a few days or a few weeks or a few months. For now, I think a good night's sleep is better than another hour surfing news sights for some sign of hope.
I hope you have a good weekend.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Day 276- Roads taken and otherwise
Dear Mr. President,
I'm having one of those weeks where everything in my life is up for questioning. Am I happy? Am I doing the right thing? Am I making the right choices? What are my goals? Maybe it's back-to-school time getting to me, or the overabundance of sentimental movies I've been watching lately. Facing this general uncertainty always inclines me to look back, to evaluate the decision and compromises and mistakes I've made in the past. (It also leads to a lot of baking.) I see old boyfriends and high school classmates getting married, settling down, having children. Sometimes I worry that kind of normal adulthood is just never going to appeal to me. People my age want careers, houses, cars, families. I want something much less tangible. Perhaps my constant need to question the path I'm walking has held me back, slowing my journey and putting me through more emotional turmoil than otherwise necessary. I suspect, however, that I'm just built this way, there's nothing to be done about it.
This letter isn't particularly political. I know people with Real Problems- worries over where their next meal, the new roof, the health insurance, the unemployment benefits, the job or the right to marry their partner will come from, if it comes at all. I'm lucky to be wallowing in a state of mild existential crisis. It will surely pass. And while I may wish I could go back and do a number of things differently, it is far more important to focus on my current situation and try to steer in a better direction. I want to find happiness, and I think that a big part of that, for me, is feeling good about what I do, and that requires a certain amount of constant questioning.
Do you find yourself doing the same thing with your own goals? I can't imagine that you have the luxury of being anywhere near as self-reflective as my lack of significance affords me. The importance of your job simply wouldn't permit it. But surely you have to take stock of things, occasionally, to measure your progress and question your course. Especially given the grim forecast for the midterms and the recent media narrative, I'd imagine you must be seriously considering your Presidency's goals and strategies. While I'm sure that conventional wisdom says you ought to be moving to the center, pandering to the vocal movement of intractable conservatism, I hope that you refuse to listen to it. You can't take back the promises you made in the campaign, or lower expectations before you took office. The only thing left to do is figure out a way to keep those promises and rise to those expectations- something that an ostensibly safe veer toward the center will never allow you.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
I'm having one of those weeks where everything in my life is up for questioning. Am I happy? Am I doing the right thing? Am I making the right choices? What are my goals? Maybe it's back-to-school time getting to me, or the overabundance of sentimental movies I've been watching lately. Facing this general uncertainty always inclines me to look back, to evaluate the decision and compromises and mistakes I've made in the past. (It also leads to a lot of baking.) I see old boyfriends and high school classmates getting married, settling down, having children. Sometimes I worry that kind of normal adulthood is just never going to appeal to me. People my age want careers, houses, cars, families. I want something much less tangible. Perhaps my constant need to question the path I'm walking has held me back, slowing my journey and putting me through more emotional turmoil than otherwise necessary. I suspect, however, that I'm just built this way, there's nothing to be done about it.
This letter isn't particularly political. I know people with Real Problems- worries over where their next meal, the new roof, the health insurance, the unemployment benefits, the job or the right to marry their partner will come from, if it comes at all. I'm lucky to be wallowing in a state of mild existential crisis. It will surely pass. And while I may wish I could go back and do a number of things differently, it is far more important to focus on my current situation and try to steer in a better direction. I want to find happiness, and I think that a big part of that, for me, is feeling good about what I do, and that requires a certain amount of constant questioning.
Do you find yourself doing the same thing with your own goals? I can't imagine that you have the luxury of being anywhere near as self-reflective as my lack of significance affords me. The importance of your job simply wouldn't permit it. But surely you have to take stock of things, occasionally, to measure your progress and question your course. Especially given the grim forecast for the midterms and the recent media narrative, I'd imagine you must be seriously considering your Presidency's goals and strategies. While I'm sure that conventional wisdom says you ought to be moving to the center, pandering to the vocal movement of intractable conservatism, I hope that you refuse to listen to it. You can't take back the promises you made in the campaign, or lower expectations before you took office. The only thing left to do is figure out a way to keep those promises and rise to those expectations- something that an ostensibly safe veer toward the center will never allow you.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Day 273- Keeping Fear Alive
Dear Mr. President,
You seemed to endorse the Rally To Restore Sanity in an interview the other day. I think that's probably a wise decision on your part, since the rational, calm and willing to disagree without outrage are probably your most loyal constituents. While conventional wisdom continues to spell certain doom for Democrats this fall, I think that the quieter voices of those who would rather not shout or hang tea-bags from their hats or paint hitler mustaches on their opponents are yet to be heard. I understand, however, that it is actually in your interest to keep the fear alive, so to speak. Lowering expectations frightens supporters to the polls on election day, scares money out of donors and time from volunteers. Doing and changing and acting and governing with conviction might also accomplish the desired result, but that is, to be fair, a much more challenging thing to do.
I heard Robert Gibbs insisting that the things you have accomplished are more surprising than the things you haven't accomplished. I understand that Mr. Gibbs is paid to try to make reality sound more favorable, but I think your administration's strategy of insisting you've kept your promises is not going to work. For one thing, the level of discontentment among voters would not exist if their daily lives had measurably improved over the last two years. I think that they will improve, and that your policies have often looked to favor the long-term benefits over instant gratification, but I don't think that is a message you or Mr. Gibbs will be able to sell to an increasingly desperate middle class.
Honestly, Mr. President, when you spoke, I used to listen. What you were saying and the way you were saying it, used to inspire me as few people ever had. When I heard you speak, I heard a leader. These days, you sound like a politician. And it isn't style that bothers me; I don't think that your political problems can be solved by changing the tone of your voice. It's substance. You can't rely on the same soaring rhetoric when trying to justify the underwhelming and often mundane changes you're making. And while I'm not suggesting that every speech you give ought to lend itself to a youtube music video I think the reason people are so disappointed is that there isn't much glory in bickering with right-wing democrats to wrangle watered-down legislation through inane congressional procedures.
I think you can be a better President than you have demonstrated, and I think Democrats can lead the country better than they have so far. I hope you find your voice again soon. What brought liberal voters out in record numbers in 2008 wasn't fear of losing to John McCain. It was the faith you gave us that we didn't have to be afraid all of the time, that our collective efforts and our collective courage could change our country. That we could make it safer, as we made it freer. That we could make it fairer as we made it more reflective of our values. That we could would wake up one day and believe, again, in the promise it held for all of us, no matter who we are. And those aren't promises you can make to the voters, this time around. You can say we're not finished yet, you can scare us with what Republican control will do to the little progress we have made, but you can't rely on fear alone. Stop lowering expectations and putting off controversial votes and trying to win the middle by turning on the left. Start showing people that you're not afraid of an ugly fight in the fall, that Democrats will stand up for our values and talk to us like we're adults. Empower your supporters instead of just scaring them. And watch that Yes We Can music video, one more time. I feel like I'm staring at a fresh glass of Hope Koolaid, just waiting for you to give me a reason to start drinking it again.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
You seemed to endorse the Rally To Restore Sanity in an interview the other day. I think that's probably a wise decision on your part, since the rational, calm and willing to disagree without outrage are probably your most loyal constituents. While conventional wisdom continues to spell certain doom for Democrats this fall, I think that the quieter voices of those who would rather not shout or hang tea-bags from their hats or paint hitler mustaches on their opponents are yet to be heard. I understand, however, that it is actually in your interest to keep the fear alive, so to speak. Lowering expectations frightens supporters to the polls on election day, scares money out of donors and time from volunteers. Doing and changing and acting and governing with conviction might also accomplish the desired result, but that is, to be fair, a much more challenging thing to do.
I heard Robert Gibbs insisting that the things you have accomplished are more surprising than the things you haven't accomplished. I understand that Mr. Gibbs is paid to try to make reality sound more favorable, but I think your administration's strategy of insisting you've kept your promises is not going to work. For one thing, the level of discontentment among voters would not exist if their daily lives had measurably improved over the last two years. I think that they will improve, and that your policies have often looked to favor the long-term benefits over instant gratification, but I don't think that is a message you or Mr. Gibbs will be able to sell to an increasingly desperate middle class.
Honestly, Mr. President, when you spoke, I used to listen. What you were saying and the way you were saying it, used to inspire me as few people ever had. When I heard you speak, I heard a leader. These days, you sound like a politician. And it isn't style that bothers me; I don't think that your political problems can be solved by changing the tone of your voice. It's substance. You can't rely on the same soaring rhetoric when trying to justify the underwhelming and often mundane changes you're making. And while I'm not suggesting that every speech you give ought to lend itself to a youtube music video I think the reason people are so disappointed is that there isn't much glory in bickering with right-wing democrats to wrangle watered-down legislation through inane congressional procedures.
I think you can be a better President than you have demonstrated, and I think Democrats can lead the country better than they have so far. I hope you find your voice again soon. What brought liberal voters out in record numbers in 2008 wasn't fear of losing to John McCain. It was the faith you gave us that we didn't have to be afraid all of the time, that our collective efforts and our collective courage could change our country. That we could make it safer, as we made it freer. That we could make it fairer as we made it more reflective of our values. That we could would wake up one day and believe, again, in the promise it held for all of us, no matter who we are. And those aren't promises you can make to the voters, this time around. You can say we're not finished yet, you can scare us with what Republican control will do to the little progress we have made, but you can't rely on fear alone. Stop lowering expectations and putting off controversial votes and trying to win the middle by turning on the left. Start showing people that you're not afraid of an ugly fight in the fall, that Democrats will stand up for our values and talk to us like we're adults. Empower your supporters instead of just scaring them. And watch that Yes We Can music video, one more time. I feel like I'm staring at a fresh glass of Hope Koolaid, just waiting for you to give me a reason to start drinking it again.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Day 266- 100 days
Update: It turns out due to an error earlier in the year this should actually be called "99 days" oh well. Live and learn, eh?
Dear Mr. President,
The measure of a presidency is often taken by the accomplishments of the first 100 days. I think this is silly. You've got to allow at least a few days to find all the light switches and figure out how to navigate the west wing, right? Not to mention all the the thanking people for their help getting you elected, the waiting for congress to remember that no one in the country knows who they are after election season ends, and, of course, the post-victory poll numbers can't be taken that seriously. But I have 100 days left to write to you this year, and I want to make my last 100 letters count. In 100 days, I want to think that my country will be different. I want to think it will be stronger, economically, and that the Bush-era tax cus will be allowed to expire. I want to think that it will be a freer, and more fair country, where gay and lesbian Americans will be allowed to openly serve in our military and marry whomever they please. I want to think that our image abroad will be improved by the closure of Guantanamo bay, the end of combat in Afghanistan, and that truly fair-minded American leadership in the Palestinian/Israeli peace talks will help create a stable, free and secure Palestinian state. We might also be a greener nation, with an end to harmful agricultural subsidies, a robust new energy policy and heavier federal investment in making our national infrastructure more environmentally friendly. Every single one of these things is possible in 100 days. (I may also wish for socialized health care and higher education, but I recognize those things can't happen in 100 days.) All of this can happen. And while my cynical, realistic side believes that none of these things will be accomplished in so little time, the part of me that still hopes for a better future believes that your next 100 days can be just as important and productive as your first 100 days, or the 100 days that will come after December 31st. And, while I have 100 letters left to write, you can bet that I'm going to bug your more than ever about every single one of these goals.
2010 has been kind of a rough year for you and your presidency. But it's got 100 days left, and that's plenty of time to turn things around and change the way this year and your administration is remembered by history. I hope you make them count.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Dear Mr. President,
The measure of a presidency is often taken by the accomplishments of the first 100 days. I think this is silly. You've got to allow at least a few days to find all the light switches and figure out how to navigate the west wing, right? Not to mention all the the thanking people for their help getting you elected, the waiting for congress to remember that no one in the country knows who they are after election season ends, and, of course, the post-victory poll numbers can't be taken that seriously. But I have 100 days left to write to you this year, and I want to make my last 100 letters count. In 100 days, I want to think that my country will be different. I want to think it will be stronger, economically, and that the Bush-era tax cus will be allowed to expire. I want to think that it will be a freer, and more fair country, where gay and lesbian Americans will be allowed to openly serve in our military and marry whomever they please. I want to think that our image abroad will be improved by the closure of Guantanamo bay, the end of combat in Afghanistan, and that truly fair-minded American leadership in the Palestinian/Israeli peace talks will help create a stable, free and secure Palestinian state. We might also be a greener nation, with an end to harmful agricultural subsidies, a robust new energy policy and heavier federal investment in making our national infrastructure more environmentally friendly. Every single one of these things is possible in 100 days. (I may also wish for socialized health care and higher education, but I recognize those things can't happen in 100 days.) All of this can happen. And while my cynical, realistic side believes that none of these things will be accomplished in so little time, the part of me that still hopes for a better future believes that your next 100 days can be just as important and productive as your first 100 days, or the 100 days that will come after December 31st. And, while I have 100 letters left to write, you can bet that I'm going to bug your more than ever about every single one of these goals.
2010 has been kind of a rough year for you and your presidency. But it's got 100 days left, and that's plenty of time to turn things around and change the way this year and your administration is remembered by history. I hope you make them count.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Day 262- Carrot sticks
Dear Mr. President,
Glenn Beck is continuing to hone the skill that made him popular- telling people what they want to hear. Today he has decided to attack the First Lady for the Let's Move campaign, which he inexplicably sees as a threat to his french fries. Beck makes people feel good about their bad choices. Don't let the government tell you what to eat! Don't let them take your freedom fries! He's the ultimate enabler. I have no problem with Beck eating french fries until his arteries turn entirely to trans fat. I'm sure the First Lady doesn't, either. Attempting to combat the undeniable epidemic of obesity and weight-related diseases by improving the way children in this country learn about healthy lifestyle choices is admirable, and exactly no threat to Beck's, or any one's access to french fries. The conversation is uncomfortable; many people probably feel guilty about the choices they make when it comes to food and exercise. I'm sure many of these people would rather be told that they are fine and that no one should be allowed to talk about better choices they could make, as Beck does.
What Beck is doing is pathetic and ultimately perpetuates the problem of complacency, but it is nothing compared to what the government does. Our government has provided $300 billion in federal subsidies of the commodity crops corn and soy, which have made exactly the kind of processed food we should be avoiding cheaper and more accessible than ever. While the First Lady campaigns tirelessly to encourage healthier eating, your federal budget continues to undercut her efforts. All of the positive role models in the sports world can't have half the impact of altering the economic reality that processed, nutritionally bankrupt food-like-substances are cheap and widely available. Poverty is an undeniable factor in this epidemic, as well, and must be addressed in a more comprehensive way before we can expect to see any real improvement.
Taxing soda and snack food is an often-suggested way to reduce consumption. I think that's a great plan, but I know enough junk-food addicts who would fiercely oppose such a tax that I can understand why you might not want to undertake such a step in an election year. Ending subsidies of corn and soy, however, would slowly raise the cost of processing these foods, raising their price (and saving huge amounts of money for taxpayers) without directly taxing consumption.
The First Lady is having a difficult conversation with the country. Telling people that they haven't been doing right by their children is never easy, but it is a truth that must be told. Many will turn to the false comfort of people like Beck who will assure them that their way of life is sacred, untouchable. But unless policies that support the First Lady's efforts are put into place, our health and the health of our planet will continue to suffer the effects of heavily subsidized, cheap, insubstantial calories. This seems like an obvious example of Democrats saying the right thing and being completely unable to back it up with substantial policy changes. Is it any coincidence that the states with the highest obesity and poverty levels also tend to be so-called red states? Maybe it's a stretch, but I think that people generally want to be healthier and more economically stable than they want to be told comforting lies. In the absence of politicians with the courage to offer these things, however, i can see why they'd at least choose the lies that make them feel good over empty promises.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Glenn Beck is continuing to hone the skill that made him popular- telling people what they want to hear. Today he has decided to attack the First Lady for the Let's Move campaign, which he inexplicably sees as a threat to his french fries. Beck makes people feel good about their bad choices. Don't let the government tell you what to eat! Don't let them take your freedom fries! He's the ultimate enabler. I have no problem with Beck eating french fries until his arteries turn entirely to trans fat. I'm sure the First Lady doesn't, either. Attempting to combat the undeniable epidemic of obesity and weight-related diseases by improving the way children in this country learn about healthy lifestyle choices is admirable, and exactly no threat to Beck's, or any one's access to french fries. The conversation is uncomfortable; many people probably feel guilty about the choices they make when it comes to food and exercise. I'm sure many of these people would rather be told that they are fine and that no one should be allowed to talk about better choices they could make, as Beck does.
What Beck is doing is pathetic and ultimately perpetuates the problem of complacency, but it is nothing compared to what the government does. Our government has provided $300 billion in federal subsidies of the commodity crops corn and soy, which have made exactly the kind of processed food we should be avoiding cheaper and more accessible than ever. While the First Lady campaigns tirelessly to encourage healthier eating, your federal budget continues to undercut her efforts. All of the positive role models in the sports world can't have half the impact of altering the economic reality that processed, nutritionally bankrupt food-like-substances are cheap and widely available. Poverty is an undeniable factor in this epidemic, as well, and must be addressed in a more comprehensive way before we can expect to see any real improvement.
Taxing soda and snack food is an often-suggested way to reduce consumption. I think that's a great plan, but I know enough junk-food addicts who would fiercely oppose such a tax that I can understand why you might not want to undertake such a step in an election year. Ending subsidies of corn and soy, however, would slowly raise the cost of processing these foods, raising their price (and saving huge amounts of money for taxpayers) without directly taxing consumption.
The First Lady is having a difficult conversation with the country. Telling people that they haven't been doing right by their children is never easy, but it is a truth that must be told. Many will turn to the false comfort of people like Beck who will assure them that their way of life is sacred, untouchable. But unless policies that support the First Lady's efforts are put into place, our health and the health of our planet will continue to suffer the effects of heavily subsidized, cheap, insubstantial calories. This seems like an obvious example of Democrats saying the right thing and being completely unable to back it up with substantial policy changes. Is it any coincidence that the states with the highest obesity and poverty levels also tend to be so-called red states? Maybe it's a stretch, but I think that people generally want to be healthier and more economically stable than they want to be told comforting lies. In the absence of politicians with the courage to offer these things, however, i can see why they'd at least choose the lies that make them feel good over empty promises.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Day 261- One in Seven
Dear Mr. President,
I have written you 260 letters this year. Of those 260, the top two subjects I've tagged are "Hope and change" and "values." These are more for my own reference than anything else. "Hope and change" refers to a letter that addresses something I feel you promised during the campaign. "Values" is usually to indicate a letter about our national or societal priorities. I chose "values" because it's a term often co-opted by the right (and, I'm sure, used by your own staff in the context conservatives use it.) So-called values voters, by the conservative Christian definition, oppose gay marriage, abortion and stem-cell research. The website for the Values Voters Summit lists the agenda as "Protect Marriage • Champion Life • Strengthen the Military • Limit Government • Control Spending • Defend Our Freedoms". I've always been irritated at the idea that voters sharing these particular values are the only ones conventionally identified as values voters- as though all of us are not voting based on our own personal values.
What does it say about what we value that preventing two people in love from marrying or putting the lives and well-being of women at risk is a demonstration of having "values"? Especially considering the 2010 census data, which shows a record number of Americans, 43.6 million or one in seven are living in poverty? When one in five children live in poverty, and one in four African Americans or Latinos? Where are the Christian values in letting twenty percent of American children grow up impoverished? While I do think the main source of this problem comes from corporate greed and corrupt politicians on both sides of the aisle, we as voters must also be held accountable for this. Voters who don't inform and educate themselves before voting. Voters who allow trivial issues of appearance, personality or campaign smears to sway their vote without an appreciation for issues. Especially voters who do not vote at all.
Once, however, we have voted, once we have elected a party to control Congress and the White House, the responsibility falls to you to come through with all the Hope and Change promised to this country during the campaign. Mr. President, for all the right might howl and scream and lie through their teeth on FOX news, Democrats have cowered, backed down, abandoned the values that ought to define our party and set it apart from the greed, xenophobia and selfishness of our opponents. A livable minimum wage, a strong national education system, and access to affordable health care - these are values that Democrats ostensibly stand for, values I support, values I was promised would be defended when I cast my ballot in 2008. If these values were being fought for just as hard as the right is fighting to undermine them than 1 in 7 Americans would not be living in poverty. Your job isn't easy, and it isn't close to finished. This election is going to be ugly and difficult and the next one is probably going to be worse. I do not feel sorry for you. One in seven of us is living in poverty, Mr. President and while every single one of you elected to represent us is living in fear of election day, the situation is just getting worse. I think it is time that you asked every elected Democrat what they really value more- their office or their conscience.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
I have written you 260 letters this year. Of those 260, the top two subjects I've tagged are "Hope and change" and "values." These are more for my own reference than anything else. "Hope and change" refers to a letter that addresses something I feel you promised during the campaign. "Values" is usually to indicate a letter about our national or societal priorities. I chose "values" because it's a term often co-opted by the right (and, I'm sure, used by your own staff in the context conservatives use it.) So-called values voters, by the conservative Christian definition, oppose gay marriage, abortion and stem-cell research. The website for the Values Voters Summit lists the agenda as "Protect Marriage • Champion Life • Strengthen the Military • Limit Government • Control Spending • Defend Our Freedoms". I've always been irritated at the idea that voters sharing these particular values are the only ones conventionally identified as values voters- as though all of us are not voting based on our own personal values.
What does it say about what we value that preventing two people in love from marrying or putting the lives and well-being of women at risk is a demonstration of having "values"? Especially considering the 2010 census data, which shows a record number of Americans, 43.6 million or one in seven are living in poverty? When one in five children live in poverty, and one in four African Americans or Latinos? Where are the Christian values in letting twenty percent of American children grow up impoverished? While I do think the main source of this problem comes from corporate greed and corrupt politicians on both sides of the aisle, we as voters must also be held accountable for this. Voters who don't inform and educate themselves before voting. Voters who allow trivial issues of appearance, personality or campaign smears to sway their vote without an appreciation for issues. Especially voters who do not vote at all.
Once, however, we have voted, once we have elected a party to control Congress and the White House, the responsibility falls to you to come through with all the Hope and Change promised to this country during the campaign. Mr. President, for all the right might howl and scream and lie through their teeth on FOX news, Democrats have cowered, backed down, abandoned the values that ought to define our party and set it apart from the greed, xenophobia and selfishness of our opponents. A livable minimum wage, a strong national education system, and access to affordable health care - these are values that Democrats ostensibly stand for, values I support, values I was promised would be defended when I cast my ballot in 2008. If these values were being fought for just as hard as the right is fighting to undermine them than 1 in 7 Americans would not be living in poverty. Your job isn't easy, and it isn't close to finished. This election is going to be ugly and difficult and the next one is probably going to be worse. I do not feel sorry for you. One in seven of us is living in poverty, Mr. President and while every single one of you elected to represent us is living in fear of election day, the situation is just getting worse. I think it is time that you asked every elected Democrat what they really value more- their office or their conscience.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Friday, September 17, 2010
Day 260- SMART Grants, napkins and sea shores
Dear Mr. President,
Today has been a great day. First, I'd like to thank you for a bit of good news I received today. Instead of taking out the small subsidized loan I'd been offered this year, I've just been awarded a National SMART grant. This is incredibly reassuring. The loan I was planning to take out this year wasn't huge compared to my total debt, but I'm still happy to avoid borrowing at all. I know I am incredibly lucky to be given this grant, especially when so many other students in my situation are seeing their debt levels continue to rise dramatically. I'm so grateful for the help.
Also today, I received a letter from my friend serving in the Peace Corps. I miss hearing her voice and seeing her every day. I miss our pancake mondays, our walks around greenlake and our heated political discussions that usually devolved into a general discussion about how much we want to marry Jon Stewart. I love reading her letters and hearing the details of her life in Burkina Faso, but I think part of her letter to me was actually meant for you:
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It says: "I stole you a napkin from the embassy =) There is a sweet picture of Obama hanging in the embassy. It makes me so happy to see it. I'm still proud he's our president."
I don't think I could say it any better.
The last thing that made today great was this story a friend sent me on facebook about Israeli women helping Palestinian women sneak across the border for illegal day trips to the beach. A quote from one of the brave Israeli women interviewed struck me as particularly moving. "We want more Israelis to realise that there is nothing to be scared of. We want more people to refuse to accept the ideology that keeps us apart – and to just refuse to be enemies."
There is nothing to be scared of. I refuse to accept divisive ideology. I refuse to be enemies.
These are powerful, wise words. And the simple act of taking these Palestinian women and their children to see the ocean shows how ordinary citizens can fight injustice through simple acts of kindness. I think maybe these women should replace Netanyahu and Abbas for the peace talks. Something tells me they'd make a lot more progress.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Today has been a great day. First, I'd like to thank you for a bit of good news I received today. Instead of taking out the small subsidized loan I'd been offered this year, I've just been awarded a National SMART grant. This is incredibly reassuring. The loan I was planning to take out this year wasn't huge compared to my total debt, but I'm still happy to avoid borrowing at all. I know I am incredibly lucky to be given this grant, especially when so many other students in my situation are seeing their debt levels continue to rise dramatically. I'm so grateful for the help.
Also today, I received a letter from my friend serving in the Peace Corps. I miss hearing her voice and seeing her every day. I miss our pancake mondays, our walks around greenlake and our heated political discussions that usually devolved into a general discussion about how much we want to marry Jon Stewart. I love reading her letters and hearing the details of her life in Burkina Faso, but I think part of her letter to me was actually meant for you:
.jpg)
It says: "I stole you a napkin from the embassy =) There is a sweet picture of Obama hanging in the embassy. It makes me so happy to see it. I'm still proud he's our president."
I don't think I could say it any better.
The last thing that made today great was this story a friend sent me on facebook about Israeli women helping Palestinian women sneak across the border for illegal day trips to the beach. A quote from one of the brave Israeli women interviewed struck me as particularly moving. "We want more Israelis to realise that there is nothing to be scared of. We want more people to refuse to accept the ideology that keeps us apart – and to just refuse to be enemies."
There is nothing to be scared of. I refuse to accept divisive ideology. I refuse to be enemies.
These are powerful, wise words. And the simple act of taking these Palestinian women and their children to see the ocean shows how ordinary citizens can fight injustice through simple acts of kindness. I think maybe these women should replace Netanyahu and Abbas for the peace talks. Something tells me they'd make a lot more progress.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
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