Midterm Lament -- "If only..."

Day 100: I Voted
Originally uploaded by willowforlife

Those who know me will understand that I am not a happy guy today. I had long ago prepared myself for the outcome of the midterm election, but preparing oneself for hitting your thumb with a hammer does not prevent the screech that ensues when it actually happens.

I have done my fair share of screeching in the last 15 hours or so, not to mention gasping, guffawing, sniffing, and snorting. It really wasn't a pretty sight.

I am sickened by the orgy of disgusting television commercials leaping on every misstep or misstatement made by candidates of every stripe. It is as if being human is now a disqualification for holding political office. The end of those cursed clips is the one thing that makes this "day after" at least palatable.

I went through all that visceral stuff and insofar as possible shoved it out of the way. At that point my mind starting turning to regret more than anger. I am persuaded that it didn't have to be this way. My thoughts began to take the form of laments framed as wishes.  "If only...", I began to think. "If only..." 

If only... the promise of Election Night 2008 had been given a chance-- thousands and thousands of people in Chicago's Grant Park, pride in a country that could elect a man with the autobiography and ethnic heritage such as this, and a hope that seemed genuine and pervasive across the land. 

If only... the commitment to bipartisanship promised by the President had been even tried by the Republican leadership. Instead their policy was clear--oppose everything and propose nothing. To listen to those same leaders today calling for bipartisanship is almost more than one can bear. 

If only... the Democratic leadership had been wiser in managing the legislative priorities of the President. For example, having the draft of the health care legislation written in the Congress resulted in the same old "scratch your back, scratch my back" culture that was supposedly changing. Alas, not so. The Biblical metaphor for this is "new wine in old wineskins."   

If only... American elections could mirror the importance of the issues instead of catering to the entertainment value of the whimsical, the silly, and the stupid. 

If only... we could figure out how to do these elections without the poisonous injection of money without accountability--a candidate spending $160 million of her own money (I wonder how many jobs that could have funded), lobbyists who reward votes with money, trips, wine, women and/or men, and such other treats as the legislator may find helpful in deciding how to vote. No one believes in this nonsense; why is it we can't stop it? 

If only...Democratic candidates had shown some guts and campaigned on the legislative achievements of the past two years; things they had voted for but never mentioned since. The President and his administration failed to effectively explain their own successes. As a result, there was no substantive debate on key issues--Republicans had nothing to say and the Democrats somehow lost their nerve and more or less ran as Republicans. Makes us proud. 

If only... movements such as the Tea Party could come to understand that we're grownups and live in a complex society and that issues have subtleties that must be understood. Not all taxes are bad. Not all Hispanics are either illegal or alien. Witches have a right to be represented in the Senate too. (Okay, I made that one up, but the mere fact that a senatorial candidate went to the airwaves with a denial that she was a witch tells us more about the election than we want to admit.)

There are many other laments that could be issued, but these are genuine. I believe there are many things that could have been done to avoid this nasty, divisive process. It didn't have to be done this way. It does not honor the spirit of our country and it does not give us hope that we can pass to our children and grandchildren. 

All of the pundits are saying that the 2012 presidential campaign begins today. You know, it doesn't have to be done this way.

If only...

The Page Turns

What is to be said?

Today Barack Obama rests his hand on the Lincoln Bible and becomes the 44th president of the United States. Throughout the nation and around the globe pundits, historians, politicians, bartenders, celebrities, educators, students, preachers and plumbers have reached deep inside their souls to find words to match this moment. And still, however eloquent, words fail.

I cannot recall a time when I have experienced a public event in such an intensely personal way. One cannot understand how it feels to me without having walked in my moccasins and lived my life, complete with its moments of soaring joy and wrenching loss. I sense that many people feel similarly. What happens in Washington, DC today will put a face on this country that will resonate around the world. But in a strange way the importance of this day is not about civics or politics. It is not even about history. It is about autobiography. Not Obama's autobiography. Mine. And yours.

Among the trinkets marking moments of my life there is a lapel pin, plain in design, on which the letters FMBM are engraved. Few would know the meaning of that acronym--"For McGovern Before Miami." These pins were distributed to people who worked for or contributed to the anti-war candidacy of George McGovern before his nomination at the 1972 Democratic National Convention in Miami. It was, of course, a doomed crusade (McGovern was clobbered by Richard Nixon, winning only a single state). But for me, a seminarian at the time, and for many of my generation, it was personal. I still think we were right and I take a certain amount of pleasure in looking at that pin and remembering.

I mention this only because I was also drawn to Barack Obama well before he became a viable candidate on the national stage. In this case it was words that did it. One day in Costco I saw a copy of what looked like an interesting book--Dreams from My Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance, written in 1995 by a virtually unknown figure named Barack Obama. It was liberally discounted so I bought it. The writing was thoughtful and lyrical, personal and transparent. And I, like him a son without a father, connected to his story.

Most impressive was the way in which he drew upon his own search for identity, particularly his multi-racial family, to frame his emerging social and political convictions. He discovered his story, incredibly complex though it was, could be knitted together with the totally diverse experience of others to form community. He wrote:

...they'd offer a story to match or confound mine, a knot to bind our experiences together--a lost father, an adolescent brush with crime, a wandering heart, a moment of simple grace. As time passed, I found that these stories, taken together, had helped me bind my world together, that they gave me the sense of place and purpose I'd been looking for. (Dreams from My Father, page 190)

You see? It's personal. My story. Your story. We're in there. And he gets it.

The picture included with this post is of our son Brian and his one year old daughter, our beloved granddaughter, Ashley. It isn't posed. She loves to look at books and magazines. Please note that it is right size up. By sheer chance she picked up Sojourners, a magazine addressed to people of faith who seek social justice. The cover of this issue was Barack Obama and the content was devoted to a series of letters written to the President-Elect expressing their hopes and dreams.

My hopes and dreams are embodied by Ashley. I cried on election night and the tears are flowing on this Inauguration Day. At first I couldn't understand why it was so emotional for me. But now I know. It's because my story, our two sons' stories, and Ashley's story, is in that podium today.

Almost a year ago I posted here some reflections on Obama's candidacy that I entitled, Dare I Trust Obama with my Mind and Heart? Some of the experiences I wrote about there are at the heart of the emotions that have welled up within me these past weeks. I chose to trust. Now, as I post this, the oath of office has just been administered.

The page has turned.

America Insulted

My longtime respect for John McCain as an ethical, independent voice has been withering for weeks and now has dropped like a rock into the sea. This photo, posted on the McCain website, is a graphic depiction of the lie perpetrated by McCain in selecting Sarah Palin as his nominee for vice-president of the United States. It should have read "Country Last," for that is precisely where he has put this nation.

This man had the audacity to claim that Barack Obama's call for an Iraq timetable showed he was willing to lose a war in order to win an election. After making that absurd and offensive allegation this 71 year old presidential candidate with four occurrences of cancer then puts the whole country in peril by nominating a wholly unqualified "hockey mom" to stand a mere heartbeat away from becoming the leader of the free world. My God, the sheer arrogance, let alone stupidity, of this is beyond words.

Thursday evening we witnessed a stunning and inspiring address by Obama calling on this nation to live out its highest values at home and abroad. Whether one opposed or supported him it seemed clear that we could have a presidential campaign focused on the big issues of our time, with quality candidates dedicated to a fair and thoughtful dialogue about our nation's future.

And then, after playing a childish media game of hide and seek, Sarah Palin was dropped with a THUD into the heart of the 2008 election. In only a matter of hours the Internet was alive with satirical lampoons and cheesecake photographs (some undoubtedly doctored, but still...). I'll concede she's got better legs than Joe Biden, but unless she can work that into the vice presidential debate on national security I don't see it as something that will turn a blue state red.

We will now spend weeks making comments like the preceding paragraph and who knows what will surface. The significance and dignity of the process is now in serious question. It is not Sarah Palin's fault. I am sure she is a capable person with a compelling story.

This is John McCain's fault. He has been dismissive of the breadth and diversity of American women by assuming that nominating a person with the right body parts will compel millions of females to blindly vote for her, despite vast differences in values and policies. "I am a Vagina American," they declare on Jon Stewart's Daily Show.

It's a great day for comedians, but it is a national tragedy for this country and for my granddaughter. Ashley seemingly has to grow up in a society governed by the cynical and the desperate, people whose lust for power betrays us all.

John McCain suffered unimaginable pain and loss during his five years as a Vietnam POW. I've stopped caring. He no longer gets a pass. What he has done these past few weeks, and especially yesterday, cannot be tolerated. Our nation is so much better than this. So much better.

Soulful Words Matter More

_MG_6565
Originally uploaded by DemConvention

A few months ago I was reflecting on Barack Obama's oratorical skills and I posted a piece here about the importance of words ("Words Matter," 02-06-2008). At the time there was, perhaps understandably, some concern about the candidacy of a relatively unknown, seemingly inexperienced, but highly charismatic figure. It was as if we couldn't trust our own visceral responses. He was the stranger offering a candy bar to the school kid.

I took the optimistic side, believing that this is not a case of the emperor having no clothes. I wrote that there was more than met the eye:

Obama seems to understand the importance of words. His delivery has something of the feel of the black preacher, but there is more. There is a depth behind the words that goes beyond the rhythm and cadence by which they are spoken.

I continue to believe that. However, the speeches of Michelle Obama and Hillary Clinton at this week's Democratic National Convention have led me to "revise and extend my remarks," as legislators say while padding the Congressional Record with speeches never given.

Michelle Obama and Daughters
Originally uploaded by cq.swat

I was gone during much of Monday evening and listened to Michelle's speech in the car, including the closing where Barack appeared on the big screen (from right here in Kansas City) and chatted briefly with his wife and kids.

On the radio the light-hearted repartee sounded awkward, the kids a bit bratty. The whole thing seemed contrived. I was therefore quite surprised to hear the talking heads going on and on about the charm and spontaneity of those exchanges. When I watched the replay I saw exactly what they meant. The words in her speech framed the issues and she delivered them with aplomb. But it took a cute kid on a big stage waving at her daddy to give the moment its soul.

It is said of the Nixon/Kennedy Debate in 1960 that Nixon lost because he had a five-o'clock shadow. People who heard the debate on the radio or read a transcript tended to think Nixon won. Those who watched on television thought Kennedy won. Most scholars believe the debate, the first one televised, was the difference in the outcome. Some think it was appearance. I tend to think it was soul.

Hillary Clinton's speech last night was a masterpiece. I have never been a big fan of her oratory; she often seemed strident and a bit wooden. But this one hit all the marks. It was exquisitely written and masterfully delivered. She drove it home, controlling its pace by running over the tendency of a crowd like this to applaud or give ovations to every other line. She controlled the speech because she had it "written on her inward parts," to adapt the covenantal phrasing in Jeremiah 31:33.

I still believe that words matter and can shape and change ideas. But these two extraordinary women, both delivering the speeches of their lives, have shown us that when they become soulful words they can not only change ideas but they can transform society.

People still seem a bit unsure about Barack Obama's soul. His most significant supporter and his most persistent critic have this week pointed the way to a future that affirms the worth of all persons and embraces a global community living in a world at peace. Now we will see if he can lead us not just with words eloquently spoken, but with heart and soul worthy of this transforming moment in our history.

Obama's Grandmother and Mine

Big Heart
Originally uploaded by Golden Emporium

When I was a young boy growing up in Toronto my grandmother took me to Detroit to see my Aunt Margaret. She lived in a high rise apartment building downtown, one I had not previously visited. While the adults were chatting I began to explore and soon my wanderings took me into the outer hallway. As I walked down the long corridor I looked up and came face to face with a black man--a custodian in the building as it turned out. I gasped and a sudden wave of fear washed over me. I turned and bolted down the hall and into the safety of my aunt's apartment.

There was nothing overt in my upbringing to give me a reason to be fearful of other races. I was never taught to feel negatively toward people of color. The racism I experienced in my family was subtle and cultural. For example, my grandmother would lead us through the playful musical ditty, Eanie Meanie Miney Moe/Catch a Nigger by the Toe/If He Hollers Let Him Go/Eanie Meanie Miney Moe. It never occurred to us that the song was racially charged, nor did it seem wrong when my grandmother referred to a Brazil nut as a "nigger toe."

Later in life, as education and experience began to sensitize me to cultural racism, I was appalled to think that racial references like that were to be found in the heart of my own family. It is because of that family memory that Barack Obama's remarkable speech on racism resonated within me with such power. In responding to the understandable firestorm over the incendiary remarks of his former pastor, Rev. Jeremiah Wright, Obama chose to do more than political damage control. In refusing to fully repudiate the man he described as "like family," Obama found the perfect point of reference in his own grandmother:

I can no more disown him than I can disown the black community. I can no more disown him than I can my white grandmother – a woman who helped raise me, a woman who sacrificed again and again for me, a woman who loves me as much as she loves anything in this world, but a woman who once confessed her fear of black men who passed by her on the street, and who on more than one occasion has uttered racial or ethnic stereotypes that made me cringe.

These people are a part of me. And they are a part of America, this country that I love.

Obama's courageous address is an illustration of why we need to take a chance on this guy. He reportedly labored into the night drafting this speech because he felt it needed to be said. He took a politically risky course because the issues are so important to the nation. Instead of scrambling to minimize political vulnerability Barack Obama chose to lead.

As a man with a black Kenyan father and a white Kansas mother, Obama's cultural roots are a bit more diverse than mine. But we both had a culturally challenged grandmother who loved us and who we continue to love, imperfections aside. Our shared memories become tools for the racial healing so urgently needed in our society. In his speech, Obama has framed the issues eloquently and passionately. He deserves our support.

My grandmother, may she rest in peace, was a Canadian with English and Pennsylvania Dutch bloodlines. I am sure she would be distressed to think her insensitivities would be recalled in this way. What I would explain to her is that personal memories and stories are the slices of life that link us together as human beings. Properly used in the cause of justice the stories become not an embarrassment but a blessing.

Note: The photo at the beginning of this blog is not of my grandmother or Barack Obama's. It was chosen because she looks like a grandmother we could all love.