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 2008 campagin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2008 campagin. Show all posts
Friday, December 31, 2010
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 2, 2010
Day 245-Pumpkin chocolate-chip cookies
Dear Mr. President,
The night of the 2008 election, after my best friend shattered two glasses full of beer toasting too enthusiastically with the man who would, months later, become her boyfriend but before we joined the gleeful crowd of celebrating Seattlites in the 6-mile walk to Capitol hill, we went into a 24-hour QFC. We were there to take pictures with the arugula and to send them to every McCain supporter we knew. While there, Chev found pumpkin-chocolate chip cookies in the bakery section. To me, those cookies have tasted like election night ever since. They're only a seasonal offering at the bakery and these days they don't ever seem to be made properly, so I've developed my own recipe for whenever I need to remember that feeling.
Buying pumpkin outside of fall is an inexplicably difficult thing to do. Strawberries from New Zealand that taste like nothing can be purchased in December and yet canned pumpkin is a "seasonal" item at most grocery stores. Sometimes I really don't get our national food system. Anyway, I managed to find some and so I've been making pumpkin desserts for weeks now. I'm making them tonight, the memories they inspire lifting my spirits and making me miss my best friend more than ever. Also the fact that I can manage to smell cloves and cinnamon means my cold probably isn't going to kill me before it goes away.
I'm baking because I'm worried. Not about dying from a cold (because that would be silly, right?) but about the oil rig explosion, the poll showing that Dino Rossi has a pretty good chance at being the next Washington State junior senator, and the fragile peace talks between Abbas and Netanyahu. I'm worried and so I'm baking. I'm blending spices and chopping up chocolate and making a huge mess with my Kitchen Aid mixer. It's great. I have taken all of my anxiety over things I can't control and I'm making something that will make my writers group tonight a little sweeter. It isn't fixing anything, but sometimes keeping calm is the most I can ask of myself. My kitchen smells like election night tastes. Nothing against QFC, but I think that this version might be even better, actually. I'm not giving up on Patty Murray or on keeping the House or on keeping the White House in 2012. Winning just tastes too good.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Yes we can! Pumpkin Chocolate-Chip Cookies
Adapted from allrecipes.
Ingredients
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 teaspoon ground cloves
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup butter, softened
1 cup white sugar
1/4 cup maple syrup
1 can pumpkin puree (15 oz)
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
8-12oz chocolate chips or chopped very dark chocolate
Preheat oven to 350. Sift together flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg, ground cloves, ginger and salt; set aside.
In a mixer, cream together the 1/2 cup of butter, maple syrup and sugar. Add pumpkin, egg, and 1 teaspoon vanilla to butter mixture, and beat until creamy. Mix in dry ingredients and then add chocolate.
Bake for 15 to 20 minutes.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Day 223- The Professional Left
Dear Mr. President,
A number of people are upset with Robert Gibbs for his comments about the "professional left." I'll admit, when I first read Mr. Gibbs' remarks, I was hurt. It seems like a cheap shot to call out the segment of the political spectrum responsible for Mr. Gibbs' employment, especially when the promises made by your campaign to the left have been so ostentatiously delayed, compromised or outright broken. Several members of your senior staff, including Rahm Emanuel, have made remarks disparaging progressive voters. The left is crazy. The left is unreasonable. The left uses drugs. Due respect, sir, but without the left you never would have been elected. Without our energy, our hope, our lofty expectations, John McCain would be President and Robert Gibbs would have a gig as a talking head on MSNBC.
I don't understand what your administration hopes to gain by dismissing those who aren't willing to lower our expectations of you just because this job is difficult. Yes, the economy is in trouble. Yes, wars can't simply be walked away from. Yes, the health care reform battle was long and bloody. But without those of us willing to call for more progress, better government, and more social justice, you're never going to accomplish the goals that I know you have for your own Presidency. And your senior staff mocks us? I'm not saying you ought to bow to every whim of the ideological left, but you could at least treat us with the respect any public servant owes his constituents. It's easy to earn points looking centrist by betraying your friends and allies, but it won't win you elections and it won't give you a Presidency you can look back on with pride.
We've never been the most popular kids in class, Mr. President, but none of the cheerleaders are going to date you just for making fun of us. Show the political courage, or at least the common decency to be as respectful of those on the left as you are of your opponents on the right. We're not a joke, and it would be a true shame for you to realize that on the loosing side of election day. I think you should ask Mr. Gibbs to apologize, Mr. President, and I think your entire administration ought to do a better job remember who its friends are.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
A number of people are upset with Robert Gibbs for his comments about the "professional left." I'll admit, when I first read Mr. Gibbs' remarks, I was hurt. It seems like a cheap shot to call out the segment of the political spectrum responsible for Mr. Gibbs' employment, especially when the promises made by your campaign to the left have been so ostentatiously delayed, compromised or outright broken. Several members of your senior staff, including Rahm Emanuel, have made remarks disparaging progressive voters. The left is crazy. The left is unreasonable. The left uses drugs. Due respect, sir, but without the left you never would have been elected. Without our energy, our hope, our lofty expectations, John McCain would be President and Robert Gibbs would have a gig as a talking head on MSNBC.
I don't understand what your administration hopes to gain by dismissing those who aren't willing to lower our expectations of you just because this job is difficult. Yes, the economy is in trouble. Yes, wars can't simply be walked away from. Yes, the health care reform battle was long and bloody. But without those of us willing to call for more progress, better government, and more social justice, you're never going to accomplish the goals that I know you have for your own Presidency. And your senior staff mocks us? I'm not saying you ought to bow to every whim of the ideological left, but you could at least treat us with the respect any public servant owes his constituents. It's easy to earn points looking centrist by betraying your friends and allies, but it won't win you elections and it won't give you a Presidency you can look back on with pride.
We've never been the most popular kids in class, Mr. President, but none of the cheerleaders are going to date you just for making fun of us. Show the political courage, or at least the common decency to be as respectful of those on the left as you are of your opponents on the right. We're not a joke, and it would be a true shame for you to realize that on the loosing side of election day. I think you should ask Mr. Gibbs to apologize, Mr. President, and I think your entire administration ought to do a better job remember who its friends are.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Day 216- Happy Birthday!
Dear Mr. President,
As it is your 49th birthday, and California progressives just scored a victory in the courtroom, I feel like today is going to be a pretty good day. Even the news sites seem to agree. Tom Friedman doesn't think America is completely done for. Maureen Dowd is writing about the tragic mediocrity of modern Romantic comedies so her life must be going pretty well. Tom Tancredo is actually getting out-crazied in Colorado. For once, reading the news site headlines doesn't make me despair for the future, so I'm going to hurry up and finish this letter before reality sinks in.
This was a small dark shadow on our election night victory; a sobering reminder that we had not completely won that night. A number of your supporters were subject to the bigotry and hypocrisy of this proposition, a law with no justification beyond irrational fear. That night might have been one big party for liberals, but I think most of us knew our joy could not be complete with proposition 8 on the books. Even if we weren't gay. Even if we weren't Californian. On that night that reminded so many how it felt to be proud of our country once again, it was impossible to deny that injustice against gay couples in California was still a reflection on all Americans. With today's decision, the parts of me that held back on election night are ready for their turn to celebrate. Tonight, I'll be raising a glass to the people who fought to see prop 8 defeated today. While I'm at it, I'll be toasting your Birthday, too. I am glad that you won the election, and, if I don't always think you do the best job of looking out for those left behind in your haste to be popular, I'll overlook it today. It's your Birthday, after all, and I think California is demonstrating that the constitutional commitment to justice and equality for all Americans is stronger than one unjust law or even one well-intentioned, if still imperfect, man.
Happy Birthday!
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
As it is your 49th birthday, and California progressives just scored a victory in the courtroom, I feel like today is going to be a pretty good day. Even the news sites seem to agree. Tom Friedman doesn't think America is completely done for. Maureen Dowd is writing about the tragic mediocrity of modern Romantic comedies so her life must be going pretty well. Tom Tancredo is actually getting out-crazied in Colorado. For once, reading the news site headlines doesn't make me despair for the future, so I'm going to hurry up and finish this letter before reality sinks in.
This was a small dark shadow on our election night victory; a sobering reminder that we had not completely won that night. A number of your supporters were subject to the bigotry and hypocrisy of this proposition, a law with no justification beyond irrational fear. That night might have been one big party for liberals, but I think most of us knew our joy could not be complete with proposition 8 on the books. Even if we weren't gay. Even if we weren't Californian. On that night that reminded so many how it felt to be proud of our country once again, it was impossible to deny that injustice against gay couples in California was still a reflection on all Americans. With today's decision, the parts of me that held back on election night are ready for their turn to celebrate. Tonight, I'll be raising a glass to the people who fought to see prop 8 defeated today. While I'm at it, I'll be toasting your Birthday, too. I am glad that you won the election, and, if I don't always think you do the best job of looking out for those left behind in your haste to be popular, I'll overlook it today. It's your Birthday, after all, and I think California is demonstrating that the constitutional commitment to justice and equality for all Americans is stronger than one unjust law or even one well-intentioned, if still imperfect, man.
Happy Birthday!
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Day 212- Lies, Damn lies, and statistics
Dear Mr. President,
As long as I'm on a role with the political cliches, I might as well concede that all politics is local. The decision to build an Islamic community center in New York is and should be a local one. Initially I supported the White House's decision not to comment, but once it became a rallying cry for every Tea Party mouthpiece from Sarah Palin to Newt Gingrich. It seemed as though maybe the White House ought to weigh in. But the recent denouncement of the decision by the Anti-Defamation League, (which, unbelievably, seems to think religious freedom ought to be contingent upon no one being irrationally upset by it,) compels me to change my mind.
Nate Silver has provided some excellent analysis on how the polling and media coverage have mislead the public, not only abou the nature of this project, but about it's relative proximity to ground zero, based largely on the lies of those who oppose it. Mr. Silver suggests, and I agree with his conclusions, that the polling data might not be an accurate reflection of public opinion, as it is based on questions constructed with vague or false information. I think it is clear that many of the people claiming to be opposed to the construction of the community center (besides not being New Yorkers,) have been misinformed. Republicans across the country are using this as a campaign issue to excite their base and sway those who haven't been given all of the facts. It's both politically expedient and morally imperative that you make a stand in support of the community center.
For starters, you're probably already aware that it's being linked to you, regardless of your lack of an official position. I'm guessing that an official speech declaring your support for religious freedom wouldn't alienate any one planning to vote Democrat in the fall, and might even win back some of the independents swayed by this nonsense, in clearing up the facts. But, even beyond the political gain, as our nation's leader, I feel like you have a responsibility to defend our values, and to remind us all when we've let fear and partisanship come before our basic humanity. Religious freedom is an American value, and anyone should have the right to build a church, synagogue, mosque, temple or even a satanic shrine anywhere. We don't have Islam-free zones, and most every rational, informed American recognizes this as important to the religious freedom of all Americans.
There was a moment in your Presidential campaign when a surprisingly frank and honest speech about race turned things around for you. But it was more than a turning point for your campaign; that speech healed a small part of a much larger wound on the psyche of our nation. It brought people together and reminded them that the challenges we face are only made more difficult by fear. These attempts at dividing us, once again, are coming at a time when we need unity more than ever. I believe that what this issue needs, more than anything is the wisdom and leadership that we expect from our President during times of fear and uncertainty. People need to know that all of America will always be safe for them, regardless of their faith. People need to know that they are being lied to and manipulated by those who would gain power from their fear. People need to know that Muslims in America have the full rights and protections of the US constitution, and the support of their president. No comment is no longer good enough, Mr. President; right or wrong, this has become a national issue, and it demands your leadership.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
PS
Is it not more than a little hypocritical for Republicans to reject a bill that would move aid to injured 9/11 workers while simultaneously invoking their sacrifice to oppose religious freedom for Muslims?
Update: Nate Silver (probably my one true love) just posted an addition to his earlier post.
As long as I'm on a role with the political cliches, I might as well concede that all politics is local. The decision to build an Islamic community center in New York is and should be a local one. Initially I supported the White House's decision not to comment, but once it became a rallying cry for every Tea Party mouthpiece from Sarah Palin to Newt Gingrich. It seemed as though maybe the White House ought to weigh in. But the recent denouncement of the decision by the Anti-Defamation League, (which, unbelievably, seems to think religious freedom ought to be contingent upon no one being irrationally upset by it,) compels me to change my mind.
Nate Silver has provided some excellent analysis on how the polling and media coverage have mislead the public, not only abou the nature of this project, but about it's relative proximity to ground zero, based largely on the lies of those who oppose it. Mr. Silver suggests, and I agree with his conclusions, that the polling data might not be an accurate reflection of public opinion, as it is based on questions constructed with vague or false information. I think it is clear that many of the people claiming to be opposed to the construction of the community center (besides not being New Yorkers,) have been misinformed. Republicans across the country are using this as a campaign issue to excite their base and sway those who haven't been given all of the facts. It's both politically expedient and morally imperative that you make a stand in support of the community center.
For starters, you're probably already aware that it's being linked to you, regardless of your lack of an official position. I'm guessing that an official speech declaring your support for religious freedom wouldn't alienate any one planning to vote Democrat in the fall, and might even win back some of the independents swayed by this nonsense, in clearing up the facts. But, even beyond the political gain, as our nation's leader, I feel like you have a responsibility to defend our values, and to remind us all when we've let fear and partisanship come before our basic humanity. Religious freedom is an American value, and anyone should have the right to build a church, synagogue, mosque, temple or even a satanic shrine anywhere. We don't have Islam-free zones, and most every rational, informed American recognizes this as important to the religious freedom of all Americans.
There was a moment in your Presidential campaign when a surprisingly frank and honest speech about race turned things around for you. But it was more than a turning point for your campaign; that speech healed a small part of a much larger wound on the psyche of our nation. It brought people together and reminded them that the challenges we face are only made more difficult by fear. These attempts at dividing us, once again, are coming at a time when we need unity more than ever. I believe that what this issue needs, more than anything is the wisdom and leadership that we expect from our President during times of fear and uncertainty. People need to know that all of America will always be safe for them, regardless of their faith. People need to know that they are being lied to and manipulated by those who would gain power from their fear. People need to know that Muslims in America have the full rights and protections of the US constitution, and the support of their president. No comment is no longer good enough, Mr. President; right or wrong, this has become a national issue, and it demands your leadership.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
PS
Is it not more than a little hypocritical for Republicans to reject a bill that would move aid to injured 9/11 workers while simultaneously invoking their sacrifice to oppose religious freedom for Muslims?
Update: Nate Silver (probably my one true love) just posted an addition to his earlier post.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Day 205- Face the (Netroots) Nation
“What I’m asking you is to keep making your voices heard, to keep holding me accountable. To keep up the fight.”
Dear Mr. President,
I don't think I count as an official member of the Netroots Nation, and I wasn't in Vegas for the convention, but, since I'm a blogger and I write you every day, I'm going to go ahead and tell myself that I'm part of your intended audience, anyway. I liked your video address, the promises you've renewed to repeal DADT and to close Guantanamo Bay. I hope that, this year, these are promise you can keep. I think the only aspect of this video that strikes me as disingenuous is the get-out-the-midterm-vote request, especially given the way so many centrist Democratic incumbents were given the support of the White House over their more progressive challengers during the primaries. Does it strike you as just a bit distasteful to ignore all of the progressive voices demanding better representation in congress and then ask those same progressives to show up on election day cheering for the lesser of two evils?
This being said, I think the New York Times' analysis of the speech as a "Pep Rally for an Uneasy Democratic Team" perhaps reads a bit too much into the fact that you used clips from Rachel Maddow's show to tout the administration's accomplishments. I think you know that the Netroots movement still has a tremendous number of loyal Obama supporters, even, (and maybe especially) those most vocal about our disappointment with the amount of compromise we've been asked to accept. However, as you so eloquently remind us in your speech, change comes from the bottom up. We've organized, raised money, marched, written and voted. We're asking for change. We're creating change. I think your administration could do a better job empowering and engaging the blogging community. The White House blog is great, but it could be developed into a more relevant forum for honest dialogue with the public. A press room without the press, or the spin, where questions are answered and discussion fostered. A blog that not only allows actual comments, but involves members of the communication department in responding to the discussions.
As inspiring as your address was, I hope the convention you were addressing, and the larger progressive blogging community, has not failed to inspire you, as well. The dogged pursuit of a wiser and more just government, a freer society, and a healthier planet is largely responsible for your election, and the Netroots Nation is only beginning to realize its potential. Now is the time to find the courage to keep your promises to us, Mr. President, not only because it is politically expedient, but because you know it is the right thing for this country and for future generations of Americans.
I guess what I mean is, please don't forget that we're asking you to keep up the fight, as well.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Hey all- speaking of the Midterms, here are some must-see midterm political ads. In case they've escaped your notice:
And, if you're in the giving mood, ActBlue
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Day 159-Primary politics
Dear Mr. President,
I haven't followed Blanche Lincoln's career. Her recent primary race caught my attention mainly because of the support for Bill Halter on DailyKos. I won't attempt to pass myself off as any kind of expert on Arkansas politics, but it seems to me that the White House made an incredibly foolish tactical error in throwing its support behind the incumbent. Lincoln opposed the public option, opposes bringing prisoners in Guantanamo bay to the US, she opposes the estate tax, she takes huge corporate campaign contributions, she is, in short, exactly the kind of politician you've criticized in your campaigns, were she a Republican. (I'm sure you'll have ample opportunity to demonstrate this when her Republican opponent wins this fall.) Isn't it hypocritical for the White House to perpetuate the stagnation and inaction caused by the Joe Liebermans and Blanche Lincolns, when you won your office promising a new kind of government?
This isn't to imply that conservative Democrats, or that centrists in general, have no place in our legislature; however, the battle for healthcare reform illustrated our desperate need for the political courage that no bought-and-paid for stooge of corporate interests can possibly provide. It illustrated the need for change. You, Mr. President, were an anti-establishment Democrat who challenged Hillary Clinton and won on the strength of both your grassroots support and the clutch endorsements of members of the Democratic establishment (like Senator Kennedy) who had the vision to see that you could be what our country needed. Why would you not take every opportunity to breathe new life into the legislative branch, to support those courageous few willing to take on the well-funded and complacent incumbents who have frustrated every attempt of your administration to wield the power of the majority? Especially when your support of the status quo results, as I believe the Arkansas race will, in the loss of a Senate seat to the Republicans?
The political leadership of the White House has been incredibly disappointing when it comes to primary challenges. Democratic incumbents are given little incentive to demonstrate political courage when the White House supports them on incumbent status alone. The Democratic party is strengthened by the primary process, not weakened by it; it is how we hold our elected officials accountable. I'm incredibly let down by today's results, and will only be more so when the full effect of this betrayal of liberal principles manifests in November.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
I haven't followed Blanche Lincoln's career. Her recent primary race caught my attention mainly because of the support for Bill Halter on DailyKos. I won't attempt to pass myself off as any kind of expert on Arkansas politics, but it seems to me that the White House made an incredibly foolish tactical error in throwing its support behind the incumbent. Lincoln opposed the public option, opposes bringing prisoners in Guantanamo bay to the US, she opposes the estate tax, she takes huge corporate campaign contributions, she is, in short, exactly the kind of politician you've criticized in your campaigns, were she a Republican. (I'm sure you'll have ample opportunity to demonstrate this when her Republican opponent wins this fall.) Isn't it hypocritical for the White House to perpetuate the stagnation and inaction caused by the Joe Liebermans and Blanche Lincolns, when you won your office promising a new kind of government?
This isn't to imply that conservative Democrats, or that centrists in general, have no place in our legislature; however, the battle for healthcare reform illustrated our desperate need for the political courage that no bought-and-paid for stooge of corporate interests can possibly provide. It illustrated the need for change. You, Mr. President, were an anti-establishment Democrat who challenged Hillary Clinton and won on the strength of both your grassroots support and the clutch endorsements of members of the Democratic establishment (like Senator Kennedy) who had the vision to see that you could be what our country needed. Why would you not take every opportunity to breathe new life into the legislative branch, to support those courageous few willing to take on the well-funded and complacent incumbents who have frustrated every attempt of your administration to wield the power of the majority? Especially when your support of the status quo results, as I believe the Arkansas race will, in the loss of a Senate seat to the Republicans?
The political leadership of the White House has been incredibly disappointing when it comes to primary challenges. Democratic incumbents are given little incentive to demonstrate political courage when the White House supports them on incumbent status alone. The Democratic party is strengthened by the primary process, not weakened by it; it is how we hold our elected officials accountable. I'm incredibly let down by today's results, and will only be more so when the full effect of this betrayal of liberal principles manifests in November.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Day 125- Why I'm still drinking the koolaid
Dear Mr. President,
Cults make me uncomfortable. I choke on the corporatespeak they feed us at work. I can't stomach the suspension of disbelief required for organized religion. I'm a skeptical person by nature and I can't shut off the part of me that constantly questions what I am told. I do not often fit in with ideologies, isms or cults of personality. And yet, I drink the Hope Koolaid better than almost any one I know.
It's not that I think you're always right; it's not that I think you always make the best choices or even act with the best of intentions. You're really my last hope, these days. I can't give up, believe the system to be hopelessly corrupt and refuse to participate; that would hand my power as a citizen over to some one else. I can't, honestly, envision a viable third party candidate, especially one who is more representative of my beliefs than you are. I have to believe in your wisdom and in your goodness, because if you're not the person best able to steer our nation right now, I'm at a loss for who the alternative would be.
This is not to say that my support for you is out of a lack of other options. Maybe it's just as irrational and just as naive as any other kind of faith, but it is more than blind loyalty. I do have issues with your policies and some of your beliefs, but I think, even among the Democrats, you're the person I respect the most because of the way you approach problems. I have a tremendous amount of faith in the people of this country; in my generation and the force of demographics to, slowly, move us closer to a fairer, freer and more just nation; I also know I can't change anything acting by myself. I believe that the change you promised us will come, probably long after you've left office, but we have to keep working toward it, more slowly than any one will find acceptable.
I am subject to the system, as are you. The difference, I think, is that I have the capacity to shift it very little, while you seem to have accepted too much of the status quo as inevitable, without consideration of your own, considerably greater, power to change it. You don't have to accept things as they've always been; be it the wars you inherited, the legacy of American imperialism, our backwards and bigoted social policies or the same old blue dog incumbents in the Democratic party. Your campaign empowered so many of the disenfranchised of this nation; it isn't hubris to reject the trappings of the system that disenfranchised them in the first place. The 17 months of your presidency have seen no shortage of missed opportunities to bring about the kind of change you asked us all to hope for; but I'm raising a glass, and keeping the faith, for the two and half years you've got left.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Cults make me uncomfortable. I choke on the corporatespeak they feed us at work. I can't stomach the suspension of disbelief required for organized religion. I'm a skeptical person by nature and I can't shut off the part of me that constantly questions what I am told. I do not often fit in with ideologies, isms or cults of personality. And yet, I drink the Hope Koolaid better than almost any one I know.
It's not that I think you're always right; it's not that I think you always make the best choices or even act with the best of intentions. You're really my last hope, these days. I can't give up, believe the system to be hopelessly corrupt and refuse to participate; that would hand my power as a citizen over to some one else. I can't, honestly, envision a viable third party candidate, especially one who is more representative of my beliefs than you are. I have to believe in your wisdom and in your goodness, because if you're not the person best able to steer our nation right now, I'm at a loss for who the alternative would be.
This is not to say that my support for you is out of a lack of other options. Maybe it's just as irrational and just as naive as any other kind of faith, but it is more than blind loyalty. I do have issues with your policies and some of your beliefs, but I think, even among the Democrats, you're the person I respect the most because of the way you approach problems. I have a tremendous amount of faith in the people of this country; in my generation and the force of demographics to, slowly, move us closer to a fairer, freer and more just nation; I also know I can't change anything acting by myself. I believe that the change you promised us will come, probably long after you've left office, but we have to keep working toward it, more slowly than any one will find acceptable.
I am subject to the system, as are you. The difference, I think, is that I have the capacity to shift it very little, while you seem to have accepted too much of the status quo as inevitable, without consideration of your own, considerably greater, power to change it. You don't have to accept things as they've always been; be it the wars you inherited, the legacy of American imperialism, our backwards and bigoted social policies or the same old blue dog incumbents in the Democratic party. Your campaign empowered so many of the disenfranchised of this nation; it isn't hubris to reject the trappings of the system that disenfranchised them in the first place. The 17 months of your presidency have seen no shortage of missed opportunities to bring about the kind of change you asked us all to hope for; but I'm raising a glass, and keeping the faith, for the two and half years you've got left.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
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
Friday, March 5, 2010
Day 64
Dear Mr. President,
Michael Moore has written you a letter, asking to be installed in the place of Chief of Staff Rahm Emanuel. When you picked Mr. Emanuel, back in 2008, I remember thinking, "Wow, he couldn't have picked any one more upsetting to Republicans in this country." (It was an admiring thought, not a critical one.) Clearly, I was just asking to be proven wrong.
Mr. Moore is a difficult character for me to embrace. I appreciate his issue-based crusades, his willingness to attack, rather than just play cautious defense. He gave a speech at my school, Willamette University, in 2004 shortly before Bush was re-elected. I recall being buoyed a bit, by his pugnacity, even as it made me uncomfortable. His methods are not always easy to agree with, his tactics often heavy handed and tending toward the ridiculous. But he does force the debate to take place on his terms, something I wish a few more of us on the left were capable of doing.
I can't decide if the rumblings about problems with the White House senior staff are just liberals who can't appreciate the difficulties of governing a country compared to the outsider's struggle just to be heard, or if they have a legitimate point. I think that shouting and grandstanding may help us, when we're in the minority, when we have no reasoned, legislative way to advance our agenda, but as the majority party, it doesn't sit well.
Back in 2008, I had hoped that your appointment of Mr. Emanuel, who is known for his pro-Israel views, would allow you the political cover to take truly drastic steps in repairing our credibility and effectiveness as a mediator with the Palestinians. Sadly, this has not come to pass. That being said, I haven't been disappointed in Mr. Emanuel's performance as Chief of Staff. If one accepts Mr. Moore's premise (and I don't) that your agenda has been completely held up by a lack of assertiveness on the part of the White House, I suppose that could be a good reason to look for a new COS. But I think, ultimately, that the responsibility has to be with you, sir, and not Mr. Emanuel. If a new COS will help advance our agenda, will wake up congressional Democrats and will give the impression of timely and substantial progress, than I support replacing him. (Though, hopefully, not with Michael Moore.) In the end, however, I think we both know that Mr. Emanuel is not the problem. Congress is the problem. Right now, Republicans have the same advantage over Democrats that the insurgents in Iraq had over coalition forces; we have to win, and they just have to keep from losing. I don't relish comparing governing to warfare; I would rather believe that we work with the Republicans, not against them, but their fierce partisanship, their pervasive obstinacy has made this an apt metaphor.
Read the letter from Mr. Moore with a grain of salt. He makes some valid points, which are worth considering, but he is wrong, I think, both about the lack of momentum and its supposed source. He won't be the last to call for a change in the senior staff, to be certain. I never thought I'd be defending Rahm Emanuel, Mr. President, but I think that your Chief of Staff is serving you well in what we all ought to understand is a long, difficult struggle.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Michael Moore has written you a letter, asking to be installed in the place of Chief of Staff Rahm Emanuel. When you picked Mr. Emanuel, back in 2008, I remember thinking, "Wow, he couldn't have picked any one more upsetting to Republicans in this country." (It was an admiring thought, not a critical one.) Clearly, I was just asking to be proven wrong.
Mr. Moore is a difficult character for me to embrace. I appreciate his issue-based crusades, his willingness to attack, rather than just play cautious defense. He gave a speech at my school, Willamette University, in 2004 shortly before Bush was re-elected. I recall being buoyed a bit, by his pugnacity, even as it made me uncomfortable. His methods are not always easy to agree with, his tactics often heavy handed and tending toward the ridiculous. But he does force the debate to take place on his terms, something I wish a few more of us on the left were capable of doing.
I can't decide if the rumblings about problems with the White House senior staff are just liberals who can't appreciate the difficulties of governing a country compared to the outsider's struggle just to be heard, or if they have a legitimate point. I think that shouting and grandstanding may help us, when we're in the minority, when we have no reasoned, legislative way to advance our agenda, but as the majority party, it doesn't sit well.
Back in 2008, I had hoped that your appointment of Mr. Emanuel, who is known for his pro-Israel views, would allow you the political cover to take truly drastic steps in repairing our credibility and effectiveness as a mediator with the Palestinians. Sadly, this has not come to pass. That being said, I haven't been disappointed in Mr. Emanuel's performance as Chief of Staff. If one accepts Mr. Moore's premise (and I don't) that your agenda has been completely held up by a lack of assertiveness on the part of the White House, I suppose that could be a good reason to look for a new COS. But I think, ultimately, that the responsibility has to be with you, sir, and not Mr. Emanuel. If a new COS will help advance our agenda, will wake up congressional Democrats and will give the impression of timely and substantial progress, than I support replacing him. (Though, hopefully, not with Michael Moore.) In the end, however, I think we both know that Mr. Emanuel is not the problem. Congress is the problem. Right now, Republicans have the same advantage over Democrats that the insurgents in Iraq had over coalition forces; we have to win, and they just have to keep from losing. I don't relish comparing governing to warfare; I would rather believe that we work with the Republicans, not against them, but their fierce partisanship, their pervasive obstinacy has made this an apt metaphor.
Read the letter from Mr. Moore with a grain of salt. He makes some valid points, which are worth considering, but he is wrong, I think, both about the lack of momentum and its supposed source. He won't be the last to call for a change in the senior staff, to be certain. I never thought I'd be defending Rahm Emanuel, Mr. President, but I think that your Chief of Staff is serving you well in what we all ought to understand is a long, difficult struggle.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Day 37 Demon Sheep
Dear Mr. President,
Do you think Carly Fiorina's Demon Sheep ad was only approved for the attention it would generate? I truly hope it does not succeed in actually electing her. This reminds me of the ads Senator McCain ran against you in 2008- the Paris Hilton ad, and, (my personal favorite,) the "Barack Obama is the Anti-Christ" ad that featured your campaign's winged logo rising from the red sea.
Television has taken political sensationalism to a whole new level. In my own state of Washington, groups opposing Christine Gregoire ran an ad featuring a man with a can of gasoline igniting a pile of money. This ad continued to run, even after an employee at my college, the University of Washington, doused himself in gasoline and lit himself on fire in front of hundreds of students in the middle of campus.
What is the acceptable threshold? I understand that political ads are the unfortunate by-product of the first amendment, and that the people running the ads have every right to be as distasteful as they wish. Neither John McCain nor Governor Gregoire's opponent, Dino Rossi, were successful in their campaigns. Their ads may or may not have been a factor in their defeat, but I doubt very much that architects of political ads to come will see these failures as a reason for caution or even dignity. Fiorina's campaign certainly didn't. Maybe Television isn't the place to look for an increase in the level of political discourse in this country, but, as it is where most campaign money is spent and, supposedly, most voters are reached, maybe it isn't an unreasonable place to start.
I hope that, in the midterms this fall and in campaigns to come, Democrats air ads that are reasonable, measured, and respectful in tone. I hope that, as the leader of the Democratic Party, you encourage them to follow your campaign's example. This isn't to say I think all campaigns should be exclusively positive, or that attack ads don't have their place, but insulting the intelligence of one's audience with frightening music or demon sheep is probably something both parties should be above. (I'll probably need to be reminded of this if Sarah Palin succeeds in securing the GOP nomination.)
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Do you think Carly Fiorina's Demon Sheep ad was only approved for the attention it would generate? I truly hope it does not succeed in actually electing her. This reminds me of the ads Senator McCain ran against you in 2008- the Paris Hilton ad, and, (my personal favorite,) the "Barack Obama is the Anti-Christ" ad that featured your campaign's winged logo rising from the red sea.
Television has taken political sensationalism to a whole new level. In my own state of Washington, groups opposing Christine Gregoire ran an ad featuring a man with a can of gasoline igniting a pile of money. This ad continued to run, even after an employee at my college, the University of Washington, doused himself in gasoline and lit himself on fire in front of hundreds of students in the middle of campus.
What is the acceptable threshold? I understand that political ads are the unfortunate by-product of the first amendment, and that the people running the ads have every right to be as distasteful as they wish. Neither John McCain nor Governor Gregoire's opponent, Dino Rossi, were successful in their campaigns. Their ads may or may not have been a factor in their defeat, but I doubt very much that architects of political ads to come will see these failures as a reason for caution or even dignity. Fiorina's campaign certainly didn't. Maybe Television isn't the place to look for an increase in the level of political discourse in this country, but, as it is where most campaign money is spent and, supposedly, most voters are reached, maybe it isn't an unreasonable place to start.
I hope that, in the midterms this fall and in campaigns to come, Democrats air ads that are reasonable, measured, and respectful in tone. I hope that, as the leader of the Democratic Party, you encourage them to follow your campaign's example. This isn't to say I think all campaigns should be exclusively positive, or that attack ads don't have their place, but insulting the intelligence of one's audience with frightening music or demon sheep is probably something both parties should be above. (I'll probably need to be reminded of this if Sarah Palin succeeds in securing the GOP nomination.)
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Day 23- 37 years
Today we recognize the 37th anniversary of the Supreme Court decision in Roe v. Wade, which affirms every woman’s fundamental constitutional right to choose whether to have an abortion, as well as each American’s right to privacy from government intrusion. I have, and continue to, support these constitutional rights.
I also remain committed to working with people of good will to prevent unintended pregnancies, support pregnant women and families, and strengthen the adoption system.
Today and every day, we must strive to ensure that all women have limitless opportunities to fulfill their dreams.
Dear Mr. President,
The night of the final debate between you and Senator McCain was the night I knew you were a different kind of politician. What struck me was the way you reminded every one, very calmly, that no matter how unapologetic you or any one might be in their support for Roe V. Wade, "no one is pro-abortion." The power of this moment was lost, of course, in Senator McCain's response, which involved air-quotes around "women's health" as though women across the nation were inventing life-threatening prenatal complications in order to score late-term abortions. My appreciation for your words was lost in my disgust at Senator McCain, but your words kept coming back to me, in the days following.
5 years ago, I made a choice. Knowing what I know now, knowing how that choice has haunted me, redefined me, in many ways, broken me, I don't think I would make the same choice, again. I was 18, and I was scared, and I was desperate. I know, for sure, that the law would not have stopped me. I could have gone to a safe, sterile clinic, or I could have gone somewhere else. I wasn't making this choice because I thought it was the right one, I wasn't making it because I thought, at all. I was making it because a person I thought mattered more than all else, told me it was the only way. I'm not blaming him, I'm blaming myself for valuing this man above my own health and safety and survival. For valuing him above all reason or logic.
In the end, of course, he left me. In the end I was alone, as I had always been. And while this decision may haunt me, the question of its morality settled so decidedly in my mind, its legality protected me from truly terrible consequences. The law cannot protect me from regret and self-reproach, but it can, and did, protect my health and safety. It is, once again, about Elizabeth Cady Stanton's solitude of self. The law that protects this decision protects a woman when she is the most alone. When she cannot count on any one, not her family, not her lover, and certainly not the men who govern her, to help.
I know both the desperation of being so young and so scared, and the ache of having surrendered your better judgment to another. So no matter what choice I would make now, I feel physically ill to think of that choice ever again being made for me or for any woman, by men like Senator McCain. This is why your manner in the debate was so inspiring. Not because you agree with me, but because you did not allow the debate to be taken from you and redefined. You did not allow Senator McCain to paint your beliefs as shameful or craven. You did not surrender the dignity of your position and of those that share it. So thank you for that.
37 years ago the courts defined the limits of their jurisdiction to be the boundaries of a person's body. It comforts me to know that you agree.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
I also remain committed to working with people of good will to prevent unintended pregnancies, support pregnant women and families, and strengthen the adoption system.
Today and every day, we must strive to ensure that all women have limitless opportunities to fulfill their dreams.
Dear Mr. President,
The night of the final debate between you and Senator McCain was the night I knew you were a different kind of politician. What struck me was the way you reminded every one, very calmly, that no matter how unapologetic you or any one might be in their support for Roe V. Wade, "no one is pro-abortion." The power of this moment was lost, of course, in Senator McCain's response, which involved air-quotes around "women's health" as though women across the nation were inventing life-threatening prenatal complications in order to score late-term abortions. My appreciation for your words was lost in my disgust at Senator McCain, but your words kept coming back to me, in the days following.
5 years ago, I made a choice. Knowing what I know now, knowing how that choice has haunted me, redefined me, in many ways, broken me, I don't think I would make the same choice, again. I was 18, and I was scared, and I was desperate. I know, for sure, that the law would not have stopped me. I could have gone to a safe, sterile clinic, or I could have gone somewhere else. I wasn't making this choice because I thought it was the right one, I wasn't making it because I thought, at all. I was making it because a person I thought mattered more than all else, told me it was the only way. I'm not blaming him, I'm blaming myself for valuing this man above my own health and safety and survival. For valuing him above all reason or logic.
In the end, of course, he left me. In the end I was alone, as I had always been. And while this decision may haunt me, the question of its morality settled so decidedly in my mind, its legality protected me from truly terrible consequences. The law cannot protect me from regret and self-reproach, but it can, and did, protect my health and safety. It is, once again, about Elizabeth Cady Stanton's solitude of self. The law that protects this decision protects a woman when she is the most alone. When she cannot count on any one, not her family, not her lover, and certainly not the men who govern her, to help.
I know both the desperation of being so young and so scared, and the ache of having surrendered your better judgment to another. So no matter what choice I would make now, I feel physically ill to think of that choice ever again being made for me or for any woman, by men like Senator McCain. This is why your manner in the debate was so inspiring. Not because you agree with me, but because you did not allow the debate to be taken from you and redefined. You did not allow Senator McCain to paint your beliefs as shameful or craven. You did not surrender the dignity of your position and of those that share it. So thank you for that.
37 years ago the courts defined the limits of their jurisdiction to be the boundaries of a person's body. It comforts me to know that you agree.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Day 7
Dear Mr. President,
Reading about you and your father is difficult for me, as it reminds me of my relationship with my own father, which I have conducted without your grace or self-awareness. I was raised by women, scolded and shaped as a person by my mother, my grandmother, my sisters and by the wisdom of so many teachers. My father lingers as a specter in my memory, not absent, at first, but certainly not present. Men in my early life were large and loud, they lived in comfortable chairs in front of the TV; set dressing for the defined, complex female characters to interact with. Men were manifestations of will, their anger hung in the room like a cloud, their favor elated me, their participation in activities or conversation lent importance and gravity. I grew up never resenting this, playing with the boys at recess and having slumber parties with the girls, never concerning myself with the differences in roles that were so obvious in adults.
You arrived in New York with your father's letter, full of the instructions to find your place that you, at the time, found inadequate. I read this and cast about in my memory for what "dime store advice" my father had sent me into the world with, and I can recall none. Instead, I enter the world fearing men, while at the same time searching each one for the unconditional love I feel is somehow owed to me still. (I'm sure even the most casual student of psychology would cite writing to you as a manifestation of this absence, as well.)
I've grown up in an age where "feminist" has, unfortunately, come to mean something militant, angry, inherently anti-man and, by extension, anti-traditional woman, as well. I grew to consider myself a feminist without ever feeling comfortable with the connotations, aware of the inherent sexism in many aspects of our society, but unwilling or unable to offer any practical alternative. When the nomination race for the 2008 election began, I initially supported John Edwards, as I'd been impressed after meeting him at a book signing, and excited by his proposal to forgive student loan debt. (The subject of another letter, but certainly a proposal worth considering.) After the race narrowed to just you & Mrs. Clinton, I read the Op-Ed that Gloria Steinem wrote in support of Clinton and felt, (as I'm sure Steinem intended,) that it was almost traitorous for me, as a feminist, not to support Clinton. This was a fleeting feeling, as I found myself drawn to the tone of your campaign, unimpressed with her tactics, and generally reluctant to support a candidate with her unconditional-to-the-point-of-unreasonable support for Israel. Did this make me bad feminist? Did I owe it to generations of suffragists to submit to the higher calling of electing a female president? Or did they, in fact, struggle to free me from this?
Sometimes it seems like life is a series of conflicts, falsely characterized as Good vs. Evil. Men vs. Women. Black vs. White. Republican vs. Democrat. Christianity vs. Islam. As I've matured, I've learned to reject these teams as constructions, attempts to unconditionally divide me from some people and bind me to others. These teams are safe, easy, even, at times, expedient. There are days when it still feels like a game, interacting with men, playing by their rules, striving for the approval or love that they define and they control. But I don't think that this applies all men.
Today I watched my nephew, who is one and a half, and the first male baby to be born in my immediate family. He, too, has spent his early life being raised by women, women like me, who lack a clear idea of what a good man is. Are we equipped to raise this child alone? Can we give him enough examples of who he wants to become? Luckily, he has a caring and responsible father figure, recently introduced, but happy and eager to show little Asher what a good man is. I am so grateful for him, and for the number of positive male influences I have had throughout my life. This gratitude reminds me to check my sweeping characterizations of gender, or my fear of a passing male figure on the street at night, reminds me to judge people as individuals and not as reflections of or upon any larger group.
On my arm, I have a few lines by Elizabeth Cady Stanton; "in that solemn solitude of self, that links us with the immeasurable and the eternal, each soul lives alone, forever." She spoke about self-reliance, about not ceding our ability to defend or support ourselves to any other, not because they cannot always be trusted, but because they cannot always be there to protect us. Not our parents, or our mates, or our families, or even our government. Learning to reconcile this self-reliance with the companionship we all need is where life gets difficult and complicated. You, sir, are a role model for my nephew, a figure I hope he one day aspires to be like, not because you are the perfect mythological figure of Manhood, but because you have reconciled the power of your position with the humanity that limits us all. Thank you, for that.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Reading about you and your father is difficult for me, as it reminds me of my relationship with my own father, which I have conducted without your grace or self-awareness. I was raised by women, scolded and shaped as a person by my mother, my grandmother, my sisters and by the wisdom of so many teachers. My father lingers as a specter in my memory, not absent, at first, but certainly not present. Men in my early life were large and loud, they lived in comfortable chairs in front of the TV; set dressing for the defined, complex female characters to interact with. Men were manifestations of will, their anger hung in the room like a cloud, their favor elated me, their participation in activities or conversation lent importance and gravity. I grew up never resenting this, playing with the boys at recess and having slumber parties with the girls, never concerning myself with the differences in roles that were so obvious in adults.
You arrived in New York with your father's letter, full of the instructions to find your place that you, at the time, found inadequate. I read this and cast about in my memory for what "dime store advice" my father had sent me into the world with, and I can recall none. Instead, I enter the world fearing men, while at the same time searching each one for the unconditional love I feel is somehow owed to me still. (I'm sure even the most casual student of psychology would cite writing to you as a manifestation of this absence, as well.)
I've grown up in an age where "feminist" has, unfortunately, come to mean something militant, angry, inherently anti-man and, by extension, anti-traditional woman, as well. I grew to consider myself a feminist without ever feeling comfortable with the connotations, aware of the inherent sexism in many aspects of our society, but unwilling or unable to offer any practical alternative. When the nomination race for the 2008 election began, I initially supported John Edwards, as I'd been impressed after meeting him at a book signing, and excited by his proposal to forgive student loan debt. (The subject of another letter, but certainly a proposal worth considering.) After the race narrowed to just you & Mrs. Clinton, I read the Op-Ed that Gloria Steinem wrote in support of Clinton and felt, (as I'm sure Steinem intended,) that it was almost traitorous for me, as a feminist, not to support Clinton. This was a fleeting feeling, as I found myself drawn to the tone of your campaign, unimpressed with her tactics, and generally reluctant to support a candidate with her unconditional-to-the-point-of-unreasonable support for Israel. Did this make me bad feminist? Did I owe it to generations of suffragists to submit to the higher calling of electing a female president? Or did they, in fact, struggle to free me from this?
Sometimes it seems like life is a series of conflicts, falsely characterized as Good vs. Evil. Men vs. Women. Black vs. White. Republican vs. Democrat. Christianity vs. Islam. As I've matured, I've learned to reject these teams as constructions, attempts to unconditionally divide me from some people and bind me to others. These teams are safe, easy, even, at times, expedient. There are days when it still feels like a game, interacting with men, playing by their rules, striving for the approval or love that they define and they control. But I don't think that this applies all men.
Today I watched my nephew, who is one and a half, and the first male baby to be born in my immediate family. He, too, has spent his early life being raised by women, women like me, who lack a clear idea of what a good man is. Are we equipped to raise this child alone? Can we give him enough examples of who he wants to become? Luckily, he has a caring and responsible father figure, recently introduced, but happy and eager to show little Asher what a good man is. I am so grateful for him, and for the number of positive male influences I have had throughout my life. This gratitude reminds me to check my sweeping characterizations of gender, or my fear of a passing male figure on the street at night, reminds me to judge people as individuals and not as reflections of or upon any larger group.
On my arm, I have a few lines by Elizabeth Cady Stanton; "in that solemn solitude of self, that links us with the immeasurable and the eternal, each soul lives alone, forever." She spoke about self-reliance, about not ceding our ability to defend or support ourselves to any other, not because they cannot always be trusted, but because they cannot always be there to protect us. Not our parents, or our mates, or our families, or even our government. Learning to reconcile this self-reliance with the companionship we all need is where life gets difficult and complicated. You, sir, are a role model for my nephew, a figure I hope he one day aspires to be like, not because you are the perfect mythological figure of Manhood, but because you have reconciled the power of your position with the humanity that limits us all. Thank you, for that.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Day 6
Dear Mr. President,
Today the clashes at the Egyptian border have me thinking about Gaza. It's been more than a year since Operation Cast Lead. It has been one year, and still the reconstruction has not been allowed to move forward. One year and still the 1.5 million Gazans are kept near-starving by blockade. One year and still the people have not turned against Hamas. You, of course, already know all this. You know how much the people of Gaza suffer, you know the atrocities detailed in the Goldstone report, you know the role the US played in the conflict between Hamas and Fatah that led to the blockade in the first place. You know the punishment America and the rest of the international community were so swift to deal out when the Palestinian people held elections in 2006 & the results were not to our liking.
Not long ago you accepted the Nobel Peace Prize. You were awarded this honor due largely to your return to a diplomacy-based foreign policy, your belief in the power of non-violent solutions. You have reached out to the Muslim world in many ways, the most prominent of which being your speech in Cairo, in which you said "The situation for the Palestinian people is intolerable. And America will not turn our backs on the legitimate Palestinian aspiration for dignity, opportunity, and a state of their own."
But, of course, you know all that, too.
Why, then, am I writing you a letter about things that I know you already know? Why am I writing you a letter about a situation that must weekly, if not daily, require your attention? Because it has been more than a year, sir, and nothing is better. So much, in fact, is only getting worse. On your watch.
Not long ago, I sat in the living room of a Palestinian family in a small town outside of Nablus called Awarta. It was during the end of your primary race with Hillary Clinton, and already clear to us that the general election would be between you and Senator McCain. The father of the family, upon learning that I was an American, advised that I should vote for you. "Both would be bad for us," he said, sadly, "But at least Obama will give you health care."
I understand the political reality that makes supporting Palestine so difficult for you as a president. But that reality is not greater than one year of the needlessly prolonged suffering of civilians, of children, all because Israel may punish without fear of reproach from its allies. How are we acting in Israel's best interest by turning a blind eye to its transgressions? How are we serving peace when we undermine Abbas's authority by pressuring him to defer action on the Goldstone report? What does this accomplish, besides weakening the moderates and perpetuating the bleak reality that radical elements thrive upon?
You know the answer, sir. It has been more than a year. It is time to make your words in Cairo, the spirit of your Nobel Prize, and the promise of your presidency a reality. Do not let another year go by with no hope for Gaza.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Today the clashes at the Egyptian border have me thinking about Gaza. It's been more than a year since Operation Cast Lead. It has been one year, and still the reconstruction has not been allowed to move forward. One year and still the 1.5 million Gazans are kept near-starving by blockade. One year and still the people have not turned against Hamas. You, of course, already know all this. You know how much the people of Gaza suffer, you know the atrocities detailed in the Goldstone report, you know the role the US played in the conflict between Hamas and Fatah that led to the blockade in the first place. You know the punishment America and the rest of the international community were so swift to deal out when the Palestinian people held elections in 2006 & the results were not to our liking.
Not long ago you accepted the Nobel Peace Prize. You were awarded this honor due largely to your return to a diplomacy-based foreign policy, your belief in the power of non-violent solutions. You have reached out to the Muslim world in many ways, the most prominent of which being your speech in Cairo, in which you said "The situation for the Palestinian people is intolerable. And America will not turn our backs on the legitimate Palestinian aspiration for dignity, opportunity, and a state of their own."
But, of course, you know all that, too.
Why, then, am I writing you a letter about things that I know you already know? Why am I writing you a letter about a situation that must weekly, if not daily, require your attention? Because it has been more than a year, sir, and nothing is better. So much, in fact, is only getting worse. On your watch.
Not long ago, I sat in the living room of a Palestinian family in a small town outside of Nablus called Awarta. It was during the end of your primary race with Hillary Clinton, and already clear to us that the general election would be between you and Senator McCain. The father of the family, upon learning that I was an American, advised that I should vote for you. "Both would be bad for us," he said, sadly, "But at least Obama will give you health care."
I understand the political reality that makes supporting Palestine so difficult for you as a president. But that reality is not greater than one year of the needlessly prolonged suffering of civilians, of children, all because Israel may punish without fear of reproach from its allies. How are we acting in Israel's best interest by turning a blind eye to its transgressions? How are we serving peace when we undermine Abbas's authority by pressuring him to defer action on the Goldstone report? What does this accomplish, besides weakening the moderates and perpetuating the bleak reality that radical elements thrive upon?
You know the answer, sir. It has been more than a year. It is time to make your words in Cairo, the spirit of your Nobel Prize, and the promise of your presidency a reality. Do not let another year go by with no hope for Gaza.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Friday, January 1, 2010
Day 1
Dear Mr. President,
I do not have an extraordinary story. I have not overcome great obstacles, I have accomplished nothing significant, and I have no claim to superior knowledge on any subject. I do not hold high office, I am not surrounded by experts, and I have not traveled the world. For these, and many other reasons, I do not claim any authority to question your decisions or judgment on issues.
I am, however, a citizen, a voter, and number among those who celebrated the 2008 election as though this country had been reborn. I do not always agree with your positions, and I, like so many, grow impatient at times with how slowly we inch away from the darkness of the Bush years. That being said, I'd really just like to express my admiration for you, and my faith that 2010 will see your positions and policies more closely reflect your principles.
Today I purchased your first book and I intend to begin reading it in the morning. I'm looking forward to the insight it will offer into your personal journey.
Anyway, Happy New Year, Mr. President. Good luck.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
I do not have an extraordinary story. I have not overcome great obstacles, I have accomplished nothing significant, and I have no claim to superior knowledge on any subject. I do not hold high office, I am not surrounded by experts, and I have not traveled the world. For these, and many other reasons, I do not claim any authority to question your decisions or judgment on issues.
I am, however, a citizen, a voter, and number among those who celebrated the 2008 election as though this country had been reborn. I do not always agree with your positions, and I, like so many, grow impatient at times with how slowly we inch away from the darkness of the Bush years. That being said, I'd really just like to express my admiration for you, and my faith that 2010 will see your positions and policies more closely reflect your principles.
Today I purchased your first book and I intend to begin reading it in the morning. I'm looking forward to the insight it will offer into your personal journey.
Anyway, Happy New Year, Mr. President. Good luck.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
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