Dear Mr. President,
Lately I've been thinking a lot about the way we tell stories, and especially about the things the telling teaches about the teller. Most of the people in my life are storytellers. A number of them are writers as well, and tell their best stories without speaking. Others have to be heard, their tales never sounding quite right without their pauses, inflection and gestures. Regardless if they are speaker or writers, or if their stories are fiction or fact, I have a tendency to judge people by the way they tell their own stories.
Some (and I think I often must, unfortunately, include myself in this category) tell stories to impress. We talk about our achievements and often exaggerate (or selectively edit) details in order to cast ourselves in the best light. While I like to think I know when to stop short of bragging or outright lying, I'm sure this inclination is not as effective as I imagine it to be. When I meet a person who is the hero in all of their own stories, I tend to get wary about them. Honesty can be subjective, of course, but the compulsive need to be liked is always a dangerous indication.
Others speak with more concern for their audience than for themselves. A few of my friends have this astounding, uncanny ability to entertain or move or capture a listener with their (written, spoken, fictional or nonfictional) tales. They know exactly which words to choose, which details to paint, to craft their stories to elicit laughter or emotion or connection with whoever they speak to. I could listen to these friends for hours as they cast themselves as heroes, fools or removed observers, placing the telling of the story above the way it reflects upon themselves. The details of any given story are never as important as the way it is told. These are people I tend to admire, to seek to surround myself with and learn from.
One of my favorite storytellers outside of my circle of people I actually know is a writer for The Stranger, Paul Constant. Recently he wrote a piece comparing Tucker Max's memoir Assholes finish first with former President Bush's Decision Points. In it, he points out the self-aggrandizing way each man ignores the consequences of his actions and imagines his own heroics while, (with no small amount of sadness) also noting that Max, unlike President Bush, at least manages to muster the smallest amount of self-critical reflection by the end. Reading Constant's review and considering the way I judge people by the way they tell their own stories, I considered your own writing, and especially the way you tell your story to the American people. I have to say, Mr. President, that even when I do not agree with you, I always appreciate the way you explain things. Your honesty and self-reflection make me trust you, and I think that you have that rare ability to tell truth with more concern for how the audience will feel about it than how it will make them think of you. This sets you apart from your predecessor and also reminds me why you were able to reach out to so many people across the political spectrum.
I hope that when you get around to writing your own memoir of your time in the White House that you are able to do so with more self-reflection and awareness than President Bush. The story of your Presidency will not be about what you accomplished or what you decided, the battles you won or the times you were right. I believe that the telling, and not the tale, will be the most important and most revealing, even should events take a turn for the highly unlikely and leave you just as desperate to rewrite history as your predecessor.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Showing posts with label President Bush. Show all posts
Showing posts with label President Bush. Show all posts
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Day 313- Life is weird.
Dear Mr. President,
Lately I've had a number of conversations with friends about the kind of people we want in our lives, and the kind of people we want to be ourselves. It comforts me to know that other people also struggle with their own conceptions of themselves and their desire to see the good even in the deeply flawed. Over the last three days I've spent time with my mother and with friends long-standing and brand-new. I've been reminded of the things I've always loved about them, or come to realize their magnificent qualities, in the smallest ways. Waiting semi-patiently in a tiny lobby for a table at a restaurant I've wanted to try forever with my mother. Group high-fiving with friends as we enjoyed an especially successful kitchen adventure. Sharing meals, or cupcakes or a few pitchers of beer. I've been remembering these encounters in a series of moments that don't mean anything but just make me feel happy. Happier than I've been in a while. Happier than maybe I believed I could be while so many other things are so uncertain.
This sense of connection with the people in my life calms my usual anxiety about what I'm doing with my life and if I'm doing it fast enough. Goals are important, (and I have them,) but pausing to enjoy the company of the many, many amazing people around me is also important. Maybe even more so. My inclination to feel like I'm alone or, at least, unforgivably messed up and strange, is beaten back by the affection of these incredible friends and family who seem to like me well enough anyway.
With this sense of elation comes an intense desire to see the best in others. Even President Bush just seems to have some severe Mommy issues. Those idiots who post angry comments on the White House facebook page (please, for the sake of your own sanity, never read those,) are just lonely and desperate and frightened. All of my peers who decided not to vote (even the ones in Washington State who only have to mail an envelope) were.... Ok, that did it, I'm back to my cynical mistrust for all of humanity. (Thanks, young voters.) Some things are actually just inexcusable.
But as my friend today so wisely put it, life is weird. We try to do the best we can, to make the right choices and to find the best in people and to appreciate those we love. The strange and the complicated and the rare moments of contentment just make it all worth it. And while talking heads might try to claim your trip to Indonesia and India as an unforgivable indulgence of a desire to see Diwali celebrations, I would be so much happier if I could believe you were actually relaxing and having fun. Mommy issues or no, President Bush spent most of his time on vacation. I think you've earned a few weeks of physical distance from the frustration of domestic politics. Whenever I'm happy and content and particularly pleased with the people in my life, the one thing I want most is for every one else to feel the same way. That's something that not even the apathetic, fair-weather-activist, youth voters can ruin, either.
Life is weird. Isn't it great?
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Lately I've had a number of conversations with friends about the kind of people we want in our lives, and the kind of people we want to be ourselves. It comforts me to know that other people also struggle with their own conceptions of themselves and their desire to see the good even in the deeply flawed. Over the last three days I've spent time with my mother and with friends long-standing and brand-new. I've been reminded of the things I've always loved about them, or come to realize their magnificent qualities, in the smallest ways. Waiting semi-patiently in a tiny lobby for a table at a restaurant I've wanted to try forever with my mother. Group high-fiving with friends as we enjoyed an especially successful kitchen adventure. Sharing meals, or cupcakes or a few pitchers of beer. I've been remembering these encounters in a series of moments that don't mean anything but just make me feel happy. Happier than I've been in a while. Happier than maybe I believed I could be while so many other things are so uncertain.
This sense of connection with the people in my life calms my usual anxiety about what I'm doing with my life and if I'm doing it fast enough. Goals are important, (and I have them,) but pausing to enjoy the company of the many, many amazing people around me is also important. Maybe even more so. My inclination to feel like I'm alone or, at least, unforgivably messed up and strange, is beaten back by the affection of these incredible friends and family who seem to like me well enough anyway.
With this sense of elation comes an intense desire to see the best in others. Even President Bush just seems to have some severe Mommy issues. Those idiots who post angry comments on the White House facebook page (please, for the sake of your own sanity, never read those,) are just lonely and desperate and frightened. All of my peers who decided not to vote (even the ones in Washington State who only have to mail an envelope) were.... Ok, that did it, I'm back to my cynical mistrust for all of humanity. (Thanks, young voters.) Some things are actually just inexcusable.
But as my friend today so wisely put it, life is weird. We try to do the best we can, to make the right choices and to find the best in people and to appreciate those we love. The strange and the complicated and the rare moments of contentment just make it all worth it. And while talking heads might try to claim your trip to Indonesia and India as an unforgivable indulgence of a desire to see Diwali celebrations, I would be so much happier if I could believe you were actually relaxing and having fun. Mommy issues or no, President Bush spent most of his time on vacation. I think you've earned a few weeks of physical distance from the frustration of domestic politics. Whenever I'm happy and content and particularly pleased with the people in my life, the one thing I want most is for every one else to feel the same way. That's something that not even the apathetic, fair-weather-activist, youth voters can ruin, either.
Life is weird. Isn't it great?
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Day 311- Another side of the story
Dear Mr. President,
While there may be a few who have forgotten why, exactly, so many of us disapproved of the policies of President Bush, I am certainly not among their number. The former President's recent publicity tour promoting his memoir has provided ample opportunity for him to remind us all why we were so glad to see the sunrise on January 20, 2009. I understand his need to tell his version of events, to make the case for his decision and attempt to persuade many of us to forget the things we knew. I have tried to give the former President the benefit of the doubt. I believe that his Presidency, for all of its many, many mistakes, occurred during some of the most difficult years in modern American history. (The role those mistakes played in said difficulties is certainly not inconsiderable.)
Still, listening to his attempts to defend his record is difficult. A man who basically avoided the press and refused to justify or explain any of his decisions while in office manipulating the incredibly short-term memory of many Americans (and especially of the media) is difficult to watch. I may be so upset that little short of a war crimes tribunal will actually satisfy my need to see President Bush answer for his crimes, but certainly the situation warrants more than the softball questions of Matt Lauer. I have to question my desire to see the former President interrogated. On a practical level, it would be entirely unproductive. No one tortured under his orders will be healed by seeing him answer questions. No one made homeless, injured or killed by the inept handling of Hurricane Katrina will be restored. No one laid off during the recession will be reinstated.
I think my desire to see President Bush explain himself comes from my suspicion that his worldview entirely justified the decision of his Presidency. Because I cannot imagine a world where what he did (and failed to do) is acceptable, I need to understand his perspective. And so, while I will not read his memoir, I will continue to follow his media appearances in an attempt to understand how, exactly, he sleeps at night.
One day, years and years from now, I hope that you will also write a memoir of your time as President. I enjoyed your first two books immensely, and I think that, even if I struggle with your justifications for the decisions I don't agree with, I will at least appreciate the quality of your writing.
(And I'm certain you won't go with quite so insipid a title, if only because it doesn't seem possible.)
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
While there may be a few who have forgotten why, exactly, so many of us disapproved of the policies of President Bush, I am certainly not among their number. The former President's recent publicity tour promoting his memoir has provided ample opportunity for him to remind us all why we were so glad to see the sunrise on January 20, 2009. I understand his need to tell his version of events, to make the case for his decision and attempt to persuade many of us to forget the things we knew. I have tried to give the former President the benefit of the doubt. I believe that his Presidency, for all of its many, many mistakes, occurred during some of the most difficult years in modern American history. (The role those mistakes played in said difficulties is certainly not inconsiderable.)
Still, listening to his attempts to defend his record is difficult. A man who basically avoided the press and refused to justify or explain any of his decisions while in office manipulating the incredibly short-term memory of many Americans (and especially of the media) is difficult to watch. I may be so upset that little short of a war crimes tribunal will actually satisfy my need to see President Bush answer for his crimes, but certainly the situation warrants more than the softball questions of Matt Lauer. I have to question my desire to see the former President interrogated. On a practical level, it would be entirely unproductive. No one tortured under his orders will be healed by seeing him answer questions. No one made homeless, injured or killed by the inept handling of Hurricane Katrina will be restored. No one laid off during the recession will be reinstated.
I think my desire to see President Bush explain himself comes from my suspicion that his worldview entirely justified the decision of his Presidency. Because I cannot imagine a world where what he did (and failed to do) is acceptable, I need to understand his perspective. And so, while I will not read his memoir, I will continue to follow his media appearances in an attempt to understand how, exactly, he sleeps at night.
One day, years and years from now, I hope that you will also write a memoir of your time as President. I enjoyed your first two books immensely, and I think that, even if I struggle with your justifications for the decisions I don't agree with, I will at least appreciate the quality of your writing.
(And I'm certain you won't go with quite so insipid a title, if only because it doesn't seem possible.)
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Day 310- Another poker metaphor
I got a message this week I can't respond to. For all of my internal conflict over the decision to respond or not to, I know the right thing to do. But, in another life, with a different past, I know what I would say. And so, what I cannot say elsewhere I will say here.
Dear Mr. President,
On the day after election day, I started to hear a phrase tossed around to explain the disappointment with your Presidency and the Democrats' abysmal midterm performance. "Playing the cards they were dealt", the refrain insisted, indicating that a bad economy, high unemployment, or any number of political cards were the reason Democrats lost. As a poker player this metaphor rang falsely from the moment I heard it.
Because any card player worth their weight knows you don't play the cards you're dealt; you play the man across the table.
When Democrats lost this election it didn't feel, to me, like a problem with our cards versus theirs. Our positions, our issues, our records were better. We just got outplayed. Now, hearing, already, about compromises on the Bush tax cuts feel like the same tired tactics that have failed all legislative session long. Republicans are excellent poker players. They indicate a willingness to compromise, Democrats foolishly believe them and make concessions (and often lose the support of their base in the process,) and Republicans hold the line until they get what they want or no one gets anything at all. You'll push the definition of middle class to $500k a year or $1 million a year, and Republicans will ask for more. In the end, if you're very, very lucky, you'll get tax cuts renewed only on those making less than $5 million a year, but in all likelihood, they will be completely renewed.
Out-playing the Republicans now that they control the House means ignoring the cards we've been dealt. Ask for a bill renewing the tax cuts only for those making $250k or less or threaten to let them all expire. And veto anything in the middle. Raise or fold. Do not check. Do not call. Raise or fold. Forget about the polls, the media narrative, the conventional wisdom, and whatever other cards you think you've been dealt. Look at the man across the table. The question is not "is his hand stronger?" The question is always "can I convince him that his hand is weaker?"
Maybe gambling is not the most noble profession. And you might make the argument that governing is not a game, that people's lives and livelihoods are at stake. Ask any poker player going all-in with this week's grocery money- higher stakes require you to play well, not to play cautiously. The stakes are high. Forget the cards you were dealt and your moral objections to the way the game is played. Look at the (in this case, very orange) man across the table.
Mr. President, I think that your noble belief in bipartisanship is admirable. But I think it has to be on your terms. I also suspect you're a much better politician than you're willing to let on. You're facing two years of bleeding political capitol every round you lose until election day, or going all-in right now with these tax cuts.
The lesson here is that no one can control the cards they're dealt. Poker is, superficially, a game of luck. The reason that some people win the world series and others lose their lunch money is that good players learn to leverage what they can control; their own reactions, perceptions, confrontation. Good players know the cards change but the man across the table stays the same.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Dear Mr. President,
On the day after election day, I started to hear a phrase tossed around to explain the disappointment with your Presidency and the Democrats' abysmal midterm performance. "Playing the cards they were dealt", the refrain insisted, indicating that a bad economy, high unemployment, or any number of political cards were the reason Democrats lost. As a poker player this metaphor rang falsely from the moment I heard it.
Because any card player worth their weight knows you don't play the cards you're dealt; you play the man across the table.
When Democrats lost this election it didn't feel, to me, like a problem with our cards versus theirs. Our positions, our issues, our records were better. We just got outplayed. Now, hearing, already, about compromises on the Bush tax cuts feel like the same tired tactics that have failed all legislative session long. Republicans are excellent poker players. They indicate a willingness to compromise, Democrats foolishly believe them and make concessions (and often lose the support of their base in the process,) and Republicans hold the line until they get what they want or no one gets anything at all. You'll push the definition of middle class to $500k a year or $1 million a year, and Republicans will ask for more. In the end, if you're very, very lucky, you'll get tax cuts renewed only on those making less than $5 million a year, but in all likelihood, they will be completely renewed.
Out-playing the Republicans now that they control the House means ignoring the cards we've been dealt. Ask for a bill renewing the tax cuts only for those making $250k or less or threaten to let them all expire. And veto anything in the middle. Raise or fold. Do not check. Do not call. Raise or fold. Forget about the polls, the media narrative, the conventional wisdom, and whatever other cards you think you've been dealt. Look at the man across the table. The question is not "is his hand stronger?" The question is always "can I convince him that his hand is weaker?"
Maybe gambling is not the most noble profession. And you might make the argument that governing is not a game, that people's lives and livelihoods are at stake. Ask any poker player going all-in with this week's grocery money- higher stakes require you to play well, not to play cautiously. The stakes are high. Forget the cards you were dealt and your moral objections to the way the game is played. Look at the (in this case, very orange) man across the table.
Mr. President, I think that your noble belief in bipartisanship is admirable. But I think it has to be on your terms. I also suspect you're a much better politician than you're willing to let on. You're facing two years of bleeding political capitol every round you lose until election day, or going all-in right now with these tax cuts.
The lesson here is that no one can control the cards they're dealt. Poker is, superficially, a game of luck. The reason that some people win the world series and others lose their lunch money is that good players learn to leverage what they can control; their own reactions, perceptions, confrontation. Good players know the cards change but the man across the table stays the same.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Day 296-Wikileaks (again)
Dear Mr. President,
As the revelations from the latest documents released by Wikileaks continue to come to light, I am having a difficult time feeling surprised. I have to say that the outrage and shock being feigned in the mainstream media upsets me, deeply. It is indisputable that the Iraq war has been waged with unprecedented levels of secrecy. The Bush administration went out of its way to hide the truth behind record levels of private contractors, sweeping new executive powers, and an outright refusal to discuss the Iraqi death toll. What, exactly, did every one think they were hiding? Unicorns, perhaps? A modern President (and I am by no means excluding you from this indictment) doesn't keep secrets unless they are damaging. All of this secrecy was achieved with the tacit approval of the media. There is no way that I, an amateur observer, could have surmised these human rights violations and outright war crimes could have been perpetrated while the mainstream media had no idea. The evidence has been out there all along, and the fact that it took this long to come to wider attention is a shameful reflection of the sorry state of the American news media.
I don't believe that war can be waged without these kinds of abuses and atrocities. This doesn't excuse them; it only, to my mind, demands that we not wage war unnecessarily. The Iraq war was absolutely unnecessary. So while Americans recoil in horror at 104,000 dead, millions displaced and hundreds if not thousands of tortured, mistreated prisoners, I can only sit back and wonder what else they possibly could have expected? In 2003 while our President skipped off toward Baghdad the media and the majority of America stayed silent. The blood and the death and the suffering that ensued came as a direct result of that silence. This country has lost the right to feel surprised when it comes to the crimes of the Bush administration.
Meanwhile, you, Mr. President, have lost the right to lay the blame solely at President Bush's feet. Had our government conducted itself the way we have every right to expect that it should, or had the media investigated and reported with anything resembling a commitment to the truth, Wikileaks would likely not exist. If you want to be angry about this latest release of documents, I suppose that is your prerogative, but the real tragedies in this are the crimes committed and largely ignored, not the fact that some one finally had the courage to bring them to light.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
As the revelations from the latest documents released by Wikileaks continue to come to light, I am having a difficult time feeling surprised. I have to say that the outrage and shock being feigned in the mainstream media upsets me, deeply. It is indisputable that the Iraq war has been waged with unprecedented levels of secrecy. The Bush administration went out of its way to hide the truth behind record levels of private contractors, sweeping new executive powers, and an outright refusal to discuss the Iraqi death toll. What, exactly, did every one think they were hiding? Unicorns, perhaps? A modern President (and I am by no means excluding you from this indictment) doesn't keep secrets unless they are damaging. All of this secrecy was achieved with the tacit approval of the media. There is no way that I, an amateur observer, could have surmised these human rights violations and outright war crimes could have been perpetrated while the mainstream media had no idea. The evidence has been out there all along, and the fact that it took this long to come to wider attention is a shameful reflection of the sorry state of the American news media.
I don't believe that war can be waged without these kinds of abuses and atrocities. This doesn't excuse them; it only, to my mind, demands that we not wage war unnecessarily. The Iraq war was absolutely unnecessary. So while Americans recoil in horror at 104,000 dead, millions displaced and hundreds if not thousands of tortured, mistreated prisoners, I can only sit back and wonder what else they possibly could have expected? In 2003 while our President skipped off toward Baghdad the media and the majority of America stayed silent. The blood and the death and the suffering that ensued came as a direct result of that silence. This country has lost the right to feel surprised when it comes to the crimes of the Bush administration.
Meanwhile, you, Mr. President, have lost the right to lay the blame solely at President Bush's feet. Had our government conducted itself the way we have every right to expect that it should, or had the media investigated and reported with anything resembling a commitment to the truth, Wikileaks would likely not exist. If you want to be angry about this latest release of documents, I suppose that is your prerogative, but the real tragedies in this are the crimes committed and largely ignored, not the fact that some one finally had the courage to bring them to light.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Day 251- Leadership
Dear Mr. President,
I generally do not hold you accountable for the actions and beliefs of those who support you. Martin Peretz, for example, may be a prominent member of the media and a self-described democratic loyalist, but when he expresses his view that Muslims have no claim to first Amendment rights, I don't blame you for that. I do, however, expect you to speak out. I do expect you to show the rest of the world that America cannot accurately be represented by cult leaders in Florida or racists in The New Republic. I expect you to speak out because the world is watching these people and it is watching you.
I don't expect that you act alone. I think that you should get every prominent and influential politician in this country, Republican and Democrat, to collectively issue a condemnation for these hateful acts and words. To challenge Americans to rise above this, to be better than these small-minded men and women would represent us to be. I can imagine the power of you, both former Presidents Bush, President and Secretary Clinton standing together to make this request. I may not have agreed with President Bush, but he has an obligation to speak to the parts of the country still irrationally enraged at Muslims over 9/11. A tangible demonstration from current and former GOP leaders might go a long way toward calming down the violent Islamophobia on the right, just as you, Bill and Hillary Clinton might do for the left. I believe that silence in the face of these dangerous swells of anger is tantamount to complicity.
We expect our leaders to stand up in moments like these. I'm not asking that you outlaw the perfectly legal actions of these groups (no matter how reprehensible or dangerous they might be.) This isn't a legal issue but a moral one and you still wield enough influence over any audience you speak to that a few words from you might yet summon the humanity in these people to make them reconsider their actions. At the very least, it will demonstrate clearly that they do not act in the name of all Americans. This morning all I could think about were the young boys and old men in Palestine who asked me over and over again to tell my country they were not terrorists. Their own helplessness in the face of a media narrative that could not be stopped was deeply moving. I think I finally understand what they felt like. I want to write a letter to the world and say, please, believe me, American's aren't racists, we're not bigots, we're not violent and hateful and irrational. Please don't judge us by the actions of a few crazy people who act in our name.
So I hope that before Saturday you and every other influential American with access to a microphone has taken to the airwaves or written in the papers or published on the internet an unequivocal denunciation of the Qur'an burning and the rallying cries against Islam as a religion and Muslims as people. We must show the world that this is not who we are, and that has to start with our leaders. I think that few days in recent memory have as much power to transform as this year's eleventh of September has; I don't want to wake up Sunday morning and wonder what country I'm living in.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
I generally do not hold you accountable for the actions and beliefs of those who support you. Martin Peretz, for example, may be a prominent member of the media and a self-described democratic loyalist, but when he expresses his view that Muslims have no claim to first Amendment rights, I don't blame you for that. I do, however, expect you to speak out. I do expect you to show the rest of the world that America cannot accurately be represented by cult leaders in Florida or racists in The New Republic. I expect you to speak out because the world is watching these people and it is watching you.
I don't expect that you act alone. I think that you should get every prominent and influential politician in this country, Republican and Democrat, to collectively issue a condemnation for these hateful acts and words. To challenge Americans to rise above this, to be better than these small-minded men and women would represent us to be. I can imagine the power of you, both former Presidents Bush, President and Secretary Clinton standing together to make this request. I may not have agreed with President Bush, but he has an obligation to speak to the parts of the country still irrationally enraged at Muslims over 9/11. A tangible demonstration from current and former GOP leaders might go a long way toward calming down the violent Islamophobia on the right, just as you, Bill and Hillary Clinton might do for the left. I believe that silence in the face of these dangerous swells of anger is tantamount to complicity.
We expect our leaders to stand up in moments like these. I'm not asking that you outlaw the perfectly legal actions of these groups (no matter how reprehensible or dangerous they might be.) This isn't a legal issue but a moral one and you still wield enough influence over any audience you speak to that a few words from you might yet summon the humanity in these people to make them reconsider their actions. At the very least, it will demonstrate clearly that they do not act in the name of all Americans. This morning all I could think about were the young boys and old men in Palestine who asked me over and over again to tell my country they were not terrorists. Their own helplessness in the face of a media narrative that could not be stopped was deeply moving. I think I finally understand what they felt like. I want to write a letter to the world and say, please, believe me, American's aren't racists, we're not bigots, we're not violent and hateful and irrational. Please don't judge us by the actions of a few crazy people who act in our name.
So I hope that before Saturday you and every other influential American with access to a microphone has taken to the airwaves or written in the papers or published on the internet an unequivocal denunciation of the Qur'an burning and the rallying cries against Islam as a religion and Muslims as people. We must show the world that this is not who we are, and that has to start with our leaders. I think that few days in recent memory have as much power to transform as this year's eleventh of September has; I don't want to wake up Sunday morning and wonder what country I'm living in.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Day 230-Cars and ditches, or how I beat a metaphor to death
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Dear Mr. President,
As the last of the combat troops were pulled out of Iraq today I thought about the night the war began. I was driving home from coffee with a friend when I heard the news, still a junior in high school. A friend and I had been drinking chai tea at Starbucks, an activity that felt vaguely subversive in itself as the chain had opened only recently in our small town, and my father still didn't approve of us spending so much time there. I was too young to vote, but still, I felt responsible for what was happening. For not doing more to stop it. My best friend had gone to anti-war marches in Seattle- what if I had gone, too? Would it have made a difference? I'd had this belief my entire life that my opinion mattered, by virtue of being an American. A naive faith in the power of Democracy to ensure that my country would always act with good intentions. So much of that youthful hope was dead by the time I arrived home. Suddenly, instead of being an empowering, inclusive force for goodness and wisdom and justice, our government seemed hostile, unyielding and frightening. I don't know if my government changed that night or if I did. Lately I've heard you refer to the country as a car the Republicans drove into a ditch; for me, that was the night we lost control.
What I felt today seeing Operation Iraqi Freedom end was not happiness. It's what you feel when you've gotten the car out of the ditch and surveyed the damage. Grief. Anger. Self-reproach. Relief. I'm grieving for the lives ruined by this war- the lives lost, the families broken, the maimed and traumatized and homeless and broken on all sides. I'm angry that this was done in my name, under my flag, associating me with it forever. Still, I wonder, could I have helped? Could I have stopped it or made it less awful even for one person if I had been more involved? This is not a moment of joy, this is not a victory for the left. A mistake of this magnitude cannot be corrected, it can only be prevented from getting any worse.
When you mention this car and ditch metaphor what you are asking is for Americans to understand that the reason your legislative victories and accomplishments don't feel like progress is because they aren't. We haven't made any progress because you've been trying to repair the damage. Real progress, you contend, will only begin once the repairs are complete and we can drive again. The first 3 or 4 times I heard you use this analogy I admit, I rolled my eyes and brushed it aside as more talking-point nonsense. But today that all changed. In my personal life, I've been waiting for a long time for progress. I've been doing the hard work that has to be done and feeling like I'm in the same place I left off. Today I realized this is because I've been trying to make repairs. I've just gotten the car running again. I haven't gone anywhere, but it's ok, because at least it's fixed. I'm in the same place, but I'm not the same person. And all I've got ahead of me for miles and miles is road.
This war might be over, but you've still got a difficult job ahead. I think I was losing faith in you, for a while. I didn't like that feeling and, even if it turns out to be misguided, I'm glad to feel hopeful again. I'm sorry I had to feel it on a small, personal scale to understand and appreciate what you were saying. It hasn't been easy, and it isn't going to be for a long time. I think that you've got an important message, Mr. President, but your greatest challenge is returning a sense of control (and the responsibility that goes along with it) to people disillusioned by so many years feeling like we can't make a difference. Like we don't have the wheel. Finding a way to involve and empower the people of this country (to do more than just show up on election day) is the only way forward if your Presidency is ever going to be about more than just cleaning up your predecessor's crash sites.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Day 213- Why I need to date an economist
Dear Mr. President,
The sun over Seattle was an odd but not unpleasant orange for most of the evening. When I got off work at 5, I thought it interesting enough to compel me to walk through the park on my way home in order to extend my time outdoors. I saw a mural being painted, a giant face and brilliantly colored shapes. It's beautiful, and eye-catching, and generally an improvement over the formerly solid-red wall surrounding the massive light rail construction area near the park. This got me thinking about the WPA and the ways that investing in public art could help unemployment. Once I got home, I read up on the WPA and thought of a number of complications that make it perhaps not the most practical solution to our current problems. Also, I saw Sarah Palin talking about the Bush tax cuts. All of this made me realize that my next boyfriend, for sure, is going to be an economist. I figure my poor luck with choosing dates based on attraction means I should probably start dating men who can help fill gaps in my education, and economics is one enormous gap. I suppose being friends with an economist would also work, so long as I could call them at the slightest provocation and ask for help understanding things like depression-era social programs.
Luckily, Fareed Zakaria is basically
And so, while I fully admit my own lack of anything resembling expertise when it comes to this, I hope that the Bush tax cuts are allowed to expire, and that future stimulus projects go toward extending unemployment benefits (or even funding murals-painting, road-fixing and other public works projects.) Even Alan Greenspan agrees with this, which makes me think that the logic is probably sound. I understand why Republicans feel the need to fight for a tax policy that favors their supporters, but I think it is clear that such a policy would be contrary to our country's immediate needs and long-term interests. Your administration has had to make a number of compromises in the process of passing important legislation for the sake of politics, but I hope that, in this case, what is best for our nation is allowed to take precedent over what is going to please top campaign contributors. Also, just in case I'm not the only one having a hard time understanding this debate, Democrats might want to work on explaining things as clearly (though, hopefully, less ridiculously) than Sarah Palin.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Friday, July 30, 2010
Day 211- Fallujah
Dear Mr. President,
Today I read something that I didn't want to know. I tried to put it away, hide it from myself so I wouldn't have to see it, but it doesn't change the truth. The legacy of our operations in Fallujah is an alarming increase in cancer, birth defects and infant mortality, as well as a decrease in the rate of male births. All of these effects were seen after Hiroshima and Nagasaki, though the study indicates that the rates of these afflictions in Fallujah has exceeded what was reported in survivors of the atomic bomb.
I don't know what kind of weapons we must have used to inflict this kind of lasting damage. I don't care. It was inexcusable. When people tell the story of the Bush presidency, this is one detail that I hope does not go overlooked. That these innocent people continue to suffer for their crime of proximity to those we called enemies is awful, and I hope that President Bush cannot sleep without seeing their faces. I hope that, when he one day holds his own grandchildren, he remembers the horrors he's inflicted on the grandchildren of so many Iraqis.
I have opposed our operations in Iraq since the beginning. I oppose them still, and in Afghanistan. But, for all the world knows, the weapons we used, the people we killed, all of it was done by a government of and by and for me and every other American. And, even though I never voted for President Bush and even though I never wanted my country to invade Iraq, I am responsible. Every single one of us who gave up and allowed the control of our country to go to men who would act so unethically and with such disregard for the lives of others. This is how the world will view us as long as the memory of this war lives on. The suffering we have inflicted on other people is a legacy that belongs to all Americans, and I am so ashamed of it, especially today. It will not be buried or hidden or ignored. This is our history, these are our crimes. The only thing we can do to make it better is work to ensure that it is a more moral and humane America that interacts with the world in the future. That we acknowledge our mistakes and apologize for them. That we never ask another American soldier to die or to kill unjustifiably.
Since starting this letter, a friend has pointed out to me several mitigating circumstances that might cast the results of this study into question. I want to acknowledge that, while my outrage comes from the facts I was presented with, it is not contingent upon this single study. I believe the evidence presented since our invasion demonstrates a clear and lingering effect of the US war on the health of the Iraqi people forced to endure it. How dramatic that effect might be does not change the stunning reality of how many lives have been lost , families displaced, and homes destroyed in the process of what was, fundamentally, an unjustified and immoral war. It shouldn't take a news cycle like this one to remind me of this appalling toll, but, since it has, I wanted to remind you in turn that the decisions you are making today will reflect on Americans for generations to come. I hope that, when you leave office, you leave behind years of an America that worked against this kind of destruction, that went to great pains to avoid such intolerable civillian suffering and body counts, and that your own nights have considerably fewer ghosts to haunt them.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Today I read something that I didn't want to know. I tried to put it away, hide it from myself so I wouldn't have to see it, but it doesn't change the truth. The legacy of our operations in Fallujah is an alarming increase in cancer, birth defects and infant mortality, as well as a decrease in the rate of male births. All of these effects were seen after Hiroshima and Nagasaki, though the study indicates that the rates of these afflictions in Fallujah has exceeded what was reported in survivors of the atomic bomb.
I don't know what kind of weapons we must have used to inflict this kind of lasting damage. I don't care. It was inexcusable. When people tell the story of the Bush presidency, this is one detail that I hope does not go overlooked. That these innocent people continue to suffer for their crime of proximity to those we called enemies is awful, and I hope that President Bush cannot sleep without seeing their faces. I hope that, when he one day holds his own grandchildren, he remembers the horrors he's inflicted on the grandchildren of so many Iraqis.
I have opposed our operations in Iraq since the beginning. I oppose them still, and in Afghanistan. But, for all the world knows, the weapons we used, the people we killed, all of it was done by a government of and by and for me and every other American. And, even though I never voted for President Bush and even though I never wanted my country to invade Iraq, I am responsible. Every single one of us who gave up and allowed the control of our country to go to men who would act so unethically and with such disregard for the lives of others. This is how the world will view us as long as the memory of this war lives on. The suffering we have inflicted on other people is a legacy that belongs to all Americans, and I am so ashamed of it, especially today. It will not be buried or hidden or ignored. This is our history, these are our crimes. The only thing we can do to make it better is work to ensure that it is a more moral and humane America that interacts with the world in the future. That we acknowledge our mistakes and apologize for them. That we never ask another American soldier to die or to kill unjustifiably.
Since starting this letter, a friend has pointed out to me several mitigating circumstances that might cast the results of this study into question. I want to acknowledge that, while my outrage comes from the facts I was presented with, it is not contingent upon this single study. I believe the evidence presented since our invasion demonstrates a clear and lingering effect of the US war on the health of the Iraqi people forced to endure it. How dramatic that effect might be does not change the stunning reality of how many lives have been lost , families displaced, and homes destroyed in the process of what was, fundamentally, an unjustified and immoral war. It shouldn't take a news cycle like this one to remind me of this appalling toll, but, since it has, I wanted to remind you in turn that the decisions you are making today will reflect on Americans for generations to come. I hope that, when you leave office, you leave behind years of an America that worked against this kind of destruction, that went to great pains to avoid such intolerable civillian suffering and body counts, and that your own nights have considerably fewer ghosts to haunt them.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Day 198- Octavia Nasr
Dear Mr. President,
I wasn't going to write to you about the unfair dismissal of Octavia Nasr from CNN. Your responsibilities may be varied and numerous but, clearly, making HR decisions at CNN is not one of them. Thomas Friedman's column today linked this decision to the Bush-era mentality that requires loyalty over skill or qualification. He asserts that, in a time when we are hindered by our lack of understanding in the the Middle East and Afghanistan, we need people like Octavia Nasr to help us better understand these societies and people. I don't think Mr. Friedman goes far enough; I would extend this indictment beyond the staffing of the Iraqi green zone, to most of our foreign policy decisions, especially toward the Middle East. We prop up or install parties and regimes based on their loyalty to us and not their abilities. The Lebanese cleric Fadlallah, whose death Nasr was fired for publicly mourning, is a perfect example of this. A man who spoke for women's rights in the home and in society; a man who wanted to see the worst beliefs of the organization he founded moderated; this man might have had opinions America disagreed with, and he might have overlooked or even encouraged violence, something that many of us and I personally could not condone. However, by reducing him to a Terrorist, by simplifying and distilling the complexities of this man to a single noun that makes it inexcusable to mourn his passing, we failed to see what we might have learned from him. But this isn't why I changed my mind about writing to you.
What signal are we sending young people? Trim your sails, be politically correct, don’t say anything that will get you flamed by one constituency or another. And if you ever want a job in government, national journalism or as president of Harvard, play it safe and don’t take any intellectual chances that might offend someone. In the age of Google, when everything you say is forever searchable, the future belongs to those who leave no footprints.
This passage changed my mind. I have often joked at my own inability to enter professional politics due to the radical opinions I have expressed as a young person. George Bush could walk away from an undistinguished life story, business failures, drug and alcohol problems, and who knows how many crazy frat stories, because he never said anything too offensive. Elena Kagan has a senate confirmation hearing that is as easy as it is boring, because she has kept her opinions moderate and acceptable, or entirely silent. It reminded me of something my department advisor recently told me, about how a class I'd taken at a previous school was "too political" to count toward my degree.
I think this is why progress seems like such a constant uphill fight. I think we need outspoken, courageous public servants, academics and journalists, even if what they say is challenging and controversial and disagreeable. I think we need to listen, to engage, and learn from those we might otherwise write off as too radical or too extreme. I'd rather disagree honestly than avoid difficult conversations entirely. And, while you probably can't get Octavia Nasr her job back, you can encourage us all to keep the courage of our convictions by demonstrating that you have the courage of yours. As for me, I may change my mind as I get older, but I'm never going to walk away from the mistakes I've made in the past. Even if it means I could never sit in the Oval Office or work for CNN. And, just for the record, I think that Nasr's sentiments were incredibly human and full of compassion. I think a journalist keeping her humanity and appreciation for the complexities of human nature is a minor mirale, but certainly not grounds for dismissal.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
I wasn't going to write to you about the unfair dismissal of Octavia Nasr from CNN. Your responsibilities may be varied and numerous but, clearly, making HR decisions at CNN is not one of them. Thomas Friedman's column today linked this decision to the Bush-era mentality that requires loyalty over skill or qualification. He asserts that, in a time when we are hindered by our lack of understanding in the the Middle East and Afghanistan, we need people like Octavia Nasr to help us better understand these societies and people. I don't think Mr. Friedman goes far enough; I would extend this indictment beyond the staffing of the Iraqi green zone, to most of our foreign policy decisions, especially toward the Middle East. We prop up or install parties and regimes based on their loyalty to us and not their abilities. The Lebanese cleric Fadlallah, whose death Nasr was fired for publicly mourning, is a perfect example of this. A man who spoke for women's rights in the home and in society; a man who wanted to see the worst beliefs of the organization he founded moderated; this man might have had opinions America disagreed with, and he might have overlooked or even encouraged violence, something that many of us and I personally could not condone. However, by reducing him to a Terrorist, by simplifying and distilling the complexities of this man to a single noun that makes it inexcusable to mourn his passing, we failed to see what we might have learned from him. But this isn't why I changed my mind about writing to you.
What signal are we sending young people? Trim your sails, be politically correct, don’t say anything that will get you flamed by one constituency or another. And if you ever want a job in government, national journalism or as president of Harvard, play it safe and don’t take any intellectual chances that might offend someone. In the age of Google, when everything you say is forever searchable, the future belongs to those who leave no footprints.
This passage changed my mind. I have often joked at my own inability to enter professional politics due to the radical opinions I have expressed as a young person. George Bush could walk away from an undistinguished life story, business failures, drug and alcohol problems, and who knows how many crazy frat stories, because he never said anything too offensive. Elena Kagan has a senate confirmation hearing that is as easy as it is boring, because she has kept her opinions moderate and acceptable, or entirely silent. It reminded me of something my department advisor recently told me, about how a class I'd taken at a previous school was "too political" to count toward my degree.
I think this is why progress seems like such a constant uphill fight. I think we need outspoken, courageous public servants, academics and journalists, even if what they say is challenging and controversial and disagreeable. I think we need to listen, to engage, and learn from those we might otherwise write off as too radical or too extreme. I'd rather disagree honestly than avoid difficult conversations entirely. And, while you probably can't get Octavia Nasr her job back, you can encourage us all to keep the courage of our convictions by demonstrating that you have the courage of yours. As for me, I may change my mind as I get older, but I'm never going to walk away from the mistakes I've made in the past. Even if it means I could never sit in the Oval Office or work for CNN. And, just for the record, I think that Nasr's sentiments were incredibly human and full of compassion. I think a journalist keeping her humanity and appreciation for the complexities of human nature is a minor mirale, but certainly not grounds for dismissal.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Day 122- Katrina
Dear Mr. President,
The media stories comparing your response to the oil spill in the Gulf to the Bush administration's response to Katrina are starting to get to me. For one thing, I still find the mistreatment and neglect of American citizens by our own government in the face of an environmental disaster to be offensive; belittling the magnitude of this failure by constantly comparing it to other disasters makes a poor substitute for actual journalism. This crisis is distinct in many ways and the administration's response to it needs to be whatever is most suited to the unique demands of this situation, and not based on some artificial scale set by the previous administrations failures.
If there is any lesson to be had from the Bush administration, and especially their handling of Katrina, it ought to be that the President should be able to admit to mistakes. President Bush could have turned his failures into something more useful, had he been able to own up to being wrong. Instead, caught up in a desperate attempt to sell his administration as being right all the time, confusing decisiveness with gravitas, attempting to doublespeak his way through contradiction and hypocrisy when confronted with it, he alienated people and made each mistake seem even worse through his obvious insensitivity to it. This isn't the type of President that you've proven yourself to be.
The oil spill in the gulf should cause us to seriously re-evaluate a number of aspects of domestic policy. I think the decision to halt any new offshore drilling projects was a good one; I hope that it lasts longer than the media storm. I'm also hoping that the projections for the size and scope of the spill are wrong; if it is smaller and easier to fix than we fear, that will be a blessing to all of the lives and livelihoods threatened, and if that makes it more difficult to make the case against drilling for more oil, that's certainly a price I'm willing, and even eager, to pay. But I hope that the hysterical, worst-case scenarios being discussed right now are taken seriously, even if we are fortunate enough that they do not come to pass; they should serve as a wake-up call to this country about the hidden cost of cheap oil and the dangers of our current lifestyles.
I think that so far your response to this crisis has been appropriate given the information available. More importantly, you've long since proven that you're an engaged and capable leader who is willing to work through the challenges facing this country even when it is not politically expedient. I hope that you can also admit when your best intentions fail, when you make the wrong decisions, or when there simply wasn't enough information to act appropriately. It brings people together and reminds us all that being willing to adapt and learn from mistakes is more important than blindly and desperately insisting you've been right all along.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
The media stories comparing your response to the oil spill in the Gulf to the Bush administration's response to Katrina are starting to get to me. For one thing, I still find the mistreatment and neglect of American citizens by our own government in the face of an environmental disaster to be offensive; belittling the magnitude of this failure by constantly comparing it to other disasters makes a poor substitute for actual journalism. This crisis is distinct in many ways and the administration's response to it needs to be whatever is most suited to the unique demands of this situation, and not based on some artificial scale set by the previous administrations failures.
If there is any lesson to be had from the Bush administration, and especially their handling of Katrina, it ought to be that the President should be able to admit to mistakes. President Bush could have turned his failures into something more useful, had he been able to own up to being wrong. Instead, caught up in a desperate attempt to sell his administration as being right all the time, confusing decisiveness with gravitas, attempting to doublespeak his way through contradiction and hypocrisy when confronted with it, he alienated people and made each mistake seem even worse through his obvious insensitivity to it. This isn't the type of President that you've proven yourself to be.
The oil spill in the gulf should cause us to seriously re-evaluate a number of aspects of domestic policy. I think the decision to halt any new offshore drilling projects was a good one; I hope that it lasts longer than the media storm. I'm also hoping that the projections for the size and scope of the spill are wrong; if it is smaller and easier to fix than we fear, that will be a blessing to all of the lives and livelihoods threatened, and if that makes it more difficult to make the case against drilling for more oil, that's certainly a price I'm willing, and even eager, to pay. But I hope that the hysterical, worst-case scenarios being discussed right now are taken seriously, even if we are fortunate enough that they do not come to pass; they should serve as a wake-up call to this country about the hidden cost of cheap oil and the dangers of our current lifestyles.
I think that so far your response to this crisis has been appropriate given the information available. More importantly, you've long since proven that you're an engaged and capable leader who is willing to work through the challenges facing this country even when it is not politically expedient. I hope that you can also admit when your best intentions fail, when you make the wrong decisions, or when there simply wasn't enough information to act appropriately. It brings people together and reminds us all that being willing to adapt and learn from mistakes is more important than blindly and desperately insisting you've been right all along.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Day 96- National Pastime
Dear Mr. President,
It's baseball season! Even if you're a White Sox fan, (which is still considerably more forgivable than being a Yankees or an A's fan,) you clearly appreciate the ethos of the game. I'm not usually a huge sports fan, but Baseball recalls the best parts of my childhood. My family and I used to make the long drive into Seattle, to watch games at the old Kingdome and see Ken Griffey Jr. in his heyday. These days I live a short walk from the new stadium, and only make it to a game or two a year, but Griffey came back home last year and the city has seemed happier ever since.
My childhood was defined by the game of Baseball. My sisters and I would play in the backyard, each of us pretending to be our favorite Mariner. In the summer, my sister and I would set up the radio so that we could listen to the game while we played outside or in our garage. Even my memories of my father are often of trying to feel connected to him while he watched sports on TV. I don't know that my dad even likes sports all of that much. I don't know how much he watched because he was a fan, or how much was just to have enough noise to keep him from thinking about things. Sometimes, we'd be watching games, chatting about rules or statistics or prospects for the Mariners, and it would seem like we were really talking. I remember, watching a game with my family when an earthquake struck, seeing Griffey run onto the field and find his wife in the crowd, telling her to drive home. Even as a fourth grader, that genuine affection for his wife's safety moved me.
Sometimes we get carried away with sports, be it football or baseball; the final four, the Olympics or the World Cup. It's something all societies throughout history and around the world have shared. We unite, briefly, in cheering on our team, surrendering our differences to the higher calling of being a fan, and at the end of the game there is a Winner and a Loser and no one has to die. Our appetites for warfare sated on (mostly) bloodless playacting of combat. However illogical it may be, I still feel like a victory over the Texas Rangers is a victory over President Bush.
It may not be wholly accurate to describe one sport as any more "American" than others, but Baseball certainly helps define the American experience for many, myself included. As demanding as your job may be, I hope that this season affords you time enough to enjoy a few games. I don't know that it's going to be a great season to be a White Sox fan, but, I suppose there are worse teams you could support. So long as they're not playing the Mariners, I'll wish them well; it's not like they're NL or anything.
Oh, and don't feel too bad about that pitch at the Nationals Game, sir. I've certainly seen worse from the White Sox.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
It's baseball season! Even if you're a White Sox fan, (which is still considerably more forgivable than being a Yankees or an A's fan,) you clearly appreciate the ethos of the game. I'm not usually a huge sports fan, but Baseball recalls the best parts of my childhood. My family and I used to make the long drive into Seattle, to watch games at the old Kingdome and see Ken Griffey Jr. in his heyday. These days I live a short walk from the new stadium, and only make it to a game or two a year, but Griffey came back home last year and the city has seemed happier ever since.
My childhood was defined by the game of Baseball. My sisters and I would play in the backyard, each of us pretending to be our favorite Mariner. In the summer, my sister and I would set up the radio so that we could listen to the game while we played outside or in our garage. Even my memories of my father are often of trying to feel connected to him while he watched sports on TV. I don't know that my dad even likes sports all of that much. I don't know how much he watched because he was a fan, or how much was just to have enough noise to keep him from thinking about things. Sometimes, we'd be watching games, chatting about rules or statistics or prospects for the Mariners, and it would seem like we were really talking. I remember, watching a game with my family when an earthquake struck, seeing Griffey run onto the field and find his wife in the crowd, telling her to drive home. Even as a fourth grader, that genuine affection for his wife's safety moved me.
Sometimes we get carried away with sports, be it football or baseball; the final four, the Olympics or the World Cup. It's something all societies throughout history and around the world have shared. We unite, briefly, in cheering on our team, surrendering our differences to the higher calling of being a fan, and at the end of the game there is a Winner and a Loser and no one has to die. Our appetites for warfare sated on (mostly) bloodless playacting of combat. However illogical it may be, I still feel like a victory over the Texas Rangers is a victory over President Bush.
It may not be wholly accurate to describe one sport as any more "American" than others, but Baseball certainly helps define the American experience for many, myself included. As demanding as your job may be, I hope that this season affords you time enough to enjoy a few games. I don't know that it's going to be a great season to be a White Sox fan, but, I suppose there are worse teams you could support. So long as they're not playing the Mariners, I'll wish them well; it's not like they're NL or anything.
Oh, and don't feel too bad about that pitch at the Nationals Game, sir. I've certainly seen worse from the White Sox.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Monday, March 29, 2010
Day 88
This is for all of you. Also, for those of you following it, Barbra Boxer's re-election race is heating up, she's polling within the margin of error against both republican front runners, and Carly Fiorina (of demon sheep/ giant blimp ad fame) is leading in the republican primary. If you know California voters, encourage them to get out the vote. The Senate might be funnier with Carly Fiorina in it, but I don't think congress needs any more of her particular brand of crazy.
Dear Mr. President,
The arrests in Michigan of militia members plotting to kill police officers reveals a deeply unsettling movement that seems to be growing. The recent rise in violent anti-government sentiments is frightening, the rhetoric of hate groups across the country, groups who often use religion or nationalism as a disguise echoed in the hysteria of the Tea Party movement and even by some members of the Republican party. This is not to say conservatives are to blame. I grew up in a part of Washington State (a blue state if ever there were) where survivalist militias, cults, and truly horrifying acts of hatred occurred under national leadership from Republicans or Democrats; I recognize that this kind of extremism co-opts the conservative opposition to government and subverts it into violence much in the same way the suicide bombers in Moscow twist their Islamic faith into justification for their crimes.
I don't know what the solution is. My fear-based reaction would be to call for stricter federal regulation of these groups, but I understand that it would only fuel their rhetoric and make all Americans less safe and less free. We cannot protect ourselves by infringing upon the rights of others. The arrest of these extremists in Michigan proves that the current system works; their plans were disrupted by the authorities and lives were saved.
I'm glad that the police were successful in preventing this group from carrying out their plans. My heart is heavy at the loss of life in Russia, as well. I'm sure there are many struggling to make sense of the anger that leads people to this kind of violence, and I have faith that your administration will not take advantage of this struggle to increase its power, as President Bush's did. I sincerely hope that politicians across the political spectrum recognize the power their words have over people, and tone down the rhetoric that is fueling these violent sentiments.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Dear Mr. President,
The arrests in Michigan of militia members plotting to kill police officers reveals a deeply unsettling movement that seems to be growing. The recent rise in violent anti-government sentiments is frightening, the rhetoric of hate groups across the country, groups who often use religion or nationalism as a disguise echoed in the hysteria of the Tea Party movement and even by some members of the Republican party. This is not to say conservatives are to blame. I grew up in a part of Washington State (a blue state if ever there were) where survivalist militias, cults, and truly horrifying acts of hatred occurred under national leadership from Republicans or Democrats; I recognize that this kind of extremism co-opts the conservative opposition to government and subverts it into violence much in the same way the suicide bombers in Moscow twist their Islamic faith into justification for their crimes.
I don't know what the solution is. My fear-based reaction would be to call for stricter federal regulation of these groups, but I understand that it would only fuel their rhetoric and make all Americans less safe and less free. We cannot protect ourselves by infringing upon the rights of others. The arrest of these extremists in Michigan proves that the current system works; their plans were disrupted by the authorities and lives were saved.
I'm glad that the police were successful in preventing this group from carrying out their plans. My heart is heavy at the loss of life in Russia, as well. I'm sure there are many struggling to make sense of the anger that leads people to this kind of violence, and I have faith that your administration will not take advantage of this struggle to increase its power, as President Bush's did. I sincerely hope that politicians across the political spectrum recognize the power their words have over people, and tone down the rhetoric that is fueling these violent sentiments.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Friday, March 26, 2010
Day 85- America, the potluck
Dear Mr. President,
Tonight I am at a potluck dinner for visiting friends. We've gathered a group of people, some of whom have known one another for lifetimes, while others are connected to the group only through the briefest of acquaintance. College students, new parents, old friends and complete strangers; we've come together over food and drinks and a shared affection. The hosting family has a philosophy of inclusion; the more, the merrier. They may not know all of their guests, but there is nothing they won't do for them. This group of people recalls the America I always thought I lived in when I was young. I had this fierce belief, as a child, that we not only welcomed every one to our country, but that we sought to support them, to nourish and educate and inspire them, to foster the culture that brought out the best in people. This diversity, this welcoming spirit, is what I thought made our country strong, wise, and exceptional.
Clearly, I grew up in an era that demanded more cynicism. The hopeful belief that our country was always right or at least well-intentioned was lost as I came of age under President Bush, who was elected as I began High School. It wasn't just that I began learning about the darker aspects of our own history; I saw that the leadership of our country had failed, completely to learn from the mistakes of the past. I don't think that my experience of losing faith in the American idea is wholly different from that of many American youth. We are nurtured on the idea of an America that is one big, benevolent force for good, and then we come of age, shocked to find that this America was just one more Santa Claus.
I think this is why so many of my peers are so cynical, so disengaged. We see the disparity between the way we are raised to feel about our country's history, and the brutal, often bloody reality of that history and how it is continuing to unfold, and we can't help but be disillusioned. I think this sentiment was what you tapped into when you campaigned; you touched the part in all of us that still wanted to believe in Santa Claus, in American exceptionalism and the hope that the idealism of America's myth could yet be realized.
So many of the guests at the party tonight are upset about the current state of American politics. Because this is Seattle and, for all of our diversity, we're still a fairly liberal bunch of people, most of them are upset that the public option failed, or that some other aspect of your policy hasn't lived up to your campaign's promises. I'm sure that the disappointment of your supporters has become just as tedious a refrain as the anger of the right at their perceived marginalization. Maybe our expectations were unreasonable; maybe your promises were too lofty. The truth is likely somewhere in the middle. Being in this room, surrounded by the love and hospitality of friends and strangers alike, seeing the capacity we have, as individuals, for goodness and generosity, I have to believe that for all of the complaints on the left, for all of the hysteria on the right, we are an exceptional nation, a place of constant evolution and redefinition. The real truth behind the America we believed in as children was that this great undertaking has never been more than the collective efforts of a group of strangers, the sum of our best selves and best intentions. When we lose sight of our own role in this project, every one loses out.
You don't have to prove how bipartisan you can be to unite and inspire this country. Mr. President, your success came not in your stance on the issues but in your ability to make us believe in our own abilities. You haven't reached every one, Mr. President, but you've certainly taught me that this country will only change when we all are willing to work for it. I am frustrated with the slowness of our progress, angry at the extent of our compromises, but I am hopeful that we are moving in the right direction.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Tonight I am at a potluck dinner for visiting friends. We've gathered a group of people, some of whom have known one another for lifetimes, while others are connected to the group only through the briefest of acquaintance. College students, new parents, old friends and complete strangers; we've come together over food and drinks and a shared affection. The hosting family has a philosophy of inclusion; the more, the merrier. They may not know all of their guests, but there is nothing they won't do for them. This group of people recalls the America I always thought I lived in when I was young. I had this fierce belief, as a child, that we not only welcomed every one to our country, but that we sought to support them, to nourish and educate and inspire them, to foster the culture that brought out the best in people. This diversity, this welcoming spirit, is what I thought made our country strong, wise, and exceptional.
Clearly, I grew up in an era that demanded more cynicism. The hopeful belief that our country was always right or at least well-intentioned was lost as I came of age under President Bush, who was elected as I began High School. It wasn't just that I began learning about the darker aspects of our own history; I saw that the leadership of our country had failed, completely to learn from the mistakes of the past. I don't think that my experience of losing faith in the American idea is wholly different from that of many American youth. We are nurtured on the idea of an America that is one big, benevolent force for good, and then we come of age, shocked to find that this America was just one more Santa Claus.
I think this is why so many of my peers are so cynical, so disengaged. We see the disparity between the way we are raised to feel about our country's history, and the brutal, often bloody reality of that history and how it is continuing to unfold, and we can't help but be disillusioned. I think this sentiment was what you tapped into when you campaigned; you touched the part in all of us that still wanted to believe in Santa Claus, in American exceptionalism and the hope that the idealism of America's myth could yet be realized.
So many of the guests at the party tonight are upset about the current state of American politics. Because this is Seattle and, for all of our diversity, we're still a fairly liberal bunch of people, most of them are upset that the public option failed, or that some other aspect of your policy hasn't lived up to your campaign's promises. I'm sure that the disappointment of your supporters has become just as tedious a refrain as the anger of the right at their perceived marginalization. Maybe our expectations were unreasonable; maybe your promises were too lofty. The truth is likely somewhere in the middle. Being in this room, surrounded by the love and hospitality of friends and strangers alike, seeing the capacity we have, as individuals, for goodness and generosity, I have to believe that for all of the complaints on the left, for all of the hysteria on the right, we are an exceptional nation, a place of constant evolution and redefinition. The real truth behind the America we believed in as children was that this great undertaking has never been more than the collective efforts of a group of strangers, the sum of our best selves and best intentions. When we lose sight of our own role in this project, every one loses out.
You don't have to prove how bipartisan you can be to unite and inspire this country. Mr. President, your success came not in your stance on the issues but in your ability to make us believe in our own abilities. You haven't reached every one, Mr. President, but you've certainly taught me that this country will only change when we all are willing to work for it. I am frustrated with the slowness of our progress, angry at the extent of our compromises, but I am hopeful that we are moving in the right direction.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Day 68- Courage & Consequence
Dear Mr. President,
As an author, I'm sure you appreciate the challenges of writing honestly, and well, about yourself and your own experiences. Many authors attempt to do this, but I think very few succeed. Today, another example of such an attempt goes on sale. Last night, (really, only a few hours ago,) I was putting out Karl Rove's new book for display. Mr. Rove's book, Courage and Consequence was bound to pique my curiosity. For one thing, the title suggests that Karl Rove, in an attempt to broaden the appeal of his book, targeted the "Jane Austen" demographic, a group of readers rarely sought after by the publishers of political memoirs. Additionally, the blurb on the back of the book describes Rove's as, "a life spent in political combat and service to country, no matter the costs." I'll grant that as Deputy Chief of Staff, Mr. Rove served his country; the language used in the book, however, seem to indicate that Mr. Rove believes he has sacrificed himself for his country, somehow, and I fail to see the evidence supporting such a contention.
For the time being, as I am still a seller of books, I believe that every one, even Karl Rove, has a right to have their story told. No matter what my profession, I will always oppose censoring or suppression, even the voices of those that I disagree with. The smug, self-satisfied, extreme close-up of Mr. Rove's face on the cover of this book, however, tests this conviction more than any author since Robert Spencer. Whenever books like this come out, where the author is so clearly trying to retell a familiar story in a way that casts them in a more forgivable role, I always wonder how many minds they really feel they will change. Most of the people who buy this book will already agree with everything Mr. Rove has to say. A significant portion of rest will only be picking it up to find their name in the index. I can't imagine Rove will win over many skeptics.
If anything, I am most surprised at my own reaction to the publication of this book. I get angry, fiercely angry at the account Mr. Rove gives, casting President Bush as the misunderstood hero. I think I am angry because it doesn't seem fair that the conservative spin machine has extended so far into my bookstore, instead of keeping to the talk radio and TV news as I feel it should. I think I am angry because I am afraid that I might not be completely right, that Mr. Rove may have reasonable, even valuable perspectives on things I am unwilling to hear, as they may threaten my own beliefs. I'm not sure what the most productive way of dealing with these feelings might be, but for now I've settled with photocopying his face off of the cover and plastering it all over my boss's office. Mature, it is not, but at least I feel a bit better.
After your own time in the White House is finished, will you write another memoir, Mr. President? You seem to be more inclined toward writing as an end in its own, which is likely why your books sell so well and are so enjoyable to read. If you do, I hope you are able to bring the frankness of your first two books to your reflections on life in the White House.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
As an author, I'm sure you appreciate the challenges of writing honestly, and well, about yourself and your own experiences. Many authors attempt to do this, but I think very few succeed. Today, another example of such an attempt goes on sale. Last night, (really, only a few hours ago,) I was putting out Karl Rove's new book for display. Mr. Rove's book, Courage and Consequence was bound to pique my curiosity. For one thing, the title suggests that Karl Rove, in an attempt to broaden the appeal of his book, targeted the "Jane Austen" demographic, a group of readers rarely sought after by the publishers of political memoirs. Additionally, the blurb on the back of the book describes Rove's as, "a life spent in political combat and service to country, no matter the costs." I'll grant that as Deputy Chief of Staff, Mr. Rove served his country; the language used in the book, however, seem to indicate that Mr. Rove believes he has sacrificed himself for his country, somehow, and I fail to see the evidence supporting such a contention.
For the time being, as I am still a seller of books, I believe that every one, even Karl Rove, has a right to have their story told. No matter what my profession, I will always oppose censoring or suppression, even the voices of those that I disagree with. The smug, self-satisfied, extreme close-up of Mr. Rove's face on the cover of this book, however, tests this conviction more than any author since Robert Spencer. Whenever books like this come out, where the author is so clearly trying to retell a familiar story in a way that casts them in a more forgivable role, I always wonder how many minds they really feel they will change. Most of the people who buy this book will already agree with everything Mr. Rove has to say. A significant portion of rest will only be picking it up to find their name in the index. I can't imagine Rove will win over many skeptics.
If anything, I am most surprised at my own reaction to the publication of this book. I get angry, fiercely angry at the account Mr. Rove gives, casting President Bush as the misunderstood hero. I think I am angry because it doesn't seem fair that the conservative spin machine has extended so far into my bookstore, instead of keeping to the talk radio and TV news as I feel it should. I think I am angry because I am afraid that I might not be completely right, that Mr. Rove may have reasonable, even valuable perspectives on things I am unwilling to hear, as they may threaten my own beliefs. I'm not sure what the most productive way of dealing with these feelings might be, but for now I've settled with photocopying his face off of the cover and plastering it all over my boss's office. Mature, it is not, but at least I feel a bit better.
After your own time in the White House is finished, will you write another memoir, Mr. President? You seem to be more inclined toward writing as an end in its own, which is likely why your books sell so well and are so enjoyable to read. If you do, I hope you are able to bring the frankness of your first two books to your reflections on life in the White House.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Day 54- We missed you on whitehouse.gov last week
Damn, that's right, you wasn't there.
Dear Mr. President,
Every time I see that Dan Pfeiffer has posted another entry on the White House blog, my day gets better. Your Communications Director is hilarious. I've never read a government official who uses sarcasm so effectively. Rahm Emanuel may have inspired some pretty hilarious SNL skits, but I think Mr. Pfeiffer is truly the master of writing press releases that make me go "oh, snap!" Today was no exception. In a blog entry that's almost as pithy as a Timbaland song, Mr. Pfeiffer called out congressional Republicans for failing to propose an alternate plan.
This is exactly what we should be hearing. Republicans have had months to propose solutions and they have yet to post alternative legislation. I fear Thursday will be another round of sound-bite attacks without any substance to back them up, and I hope that you and the congressional Democrats don't allow them to get away with it. For the first time in the long history of the health care debate, I feel that we are close to getting reform passed, and I don't care how snarky we have to be to get it done- we're right, they're empty-handed with alternatives, and the status quo is unacceptable.
I've been trying to imagine if I can fairly compare your staff with that of President Bush's White House. None of them struck me as particularly funny. Maybe President Bush took care of the levity himself, with the nick names and the casual rejection of proper grammar? I'm not sure. I'm way too partisan to be an honest judge, anyway. That being said, I think the perception that your staff seems to do what they do so effectively, and with even a bit of fun, reflects well on your administration.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Dear Mr. President,
Every time I see that Dan Pfeiffer has posted another entry on the White House blog, my day gets better. Your Communications Director is hilarious. I've never read a government official who uses sarcasm so effectively. Rahm Emanuel may have inspired some pretty hilarious SNL skits, but I think Mr. Pfeiffer is truly the master of writing press releases that make me go "oh, snap!" Today was no exception. In a blog entry that's almost as pithy as a Timbaland song, Mr. Pfeiffer called out congressional Republicans for failing to propose an alternate plan.
This is exactly what we should be hearing. Republicans have had months to propose solutions and they have yet to post alternative legislation. I fear Thursday will be another round of sound-bite attacks without any substance to back them up, and I hope that you and the congressional Democrats don't allow them to get away with it. For the first time in the long history of the health care debate, I feel that we are close to getting reform passed, and I don't care how snarky we have to be to get it done- we're right, they're empty-handed with alternatives, and the status quo is unacceptable.
I've been trying to imagine if I can fairly compare your staff with that of President Bush's White House. None of them struck me as particularly funny. Maybe President Bush took care of the levity himself, with the nick names and the casual rejection of proper grammar? I'm not sure. I'm way too partisan to be an honest judge, anyway. That being said, I think the perception that your staff seems to do what they do so effectively, and with even a bit of fun, reflects well on your administration.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
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