About Politics...

When I was kid, my dad and I would go door to door for various politicians in the weeks leading up to elections.  Knocking on doors, and trying to convince folks to vote for whatever candidates his Union was supporting.  Honestly, it wasn’t really fun as it was often early mornings and frigid weather, but I got to spend time with my dad, and he always took me out for breakfast, and both those things I really liked, so I never complained.  As I got older, I became more interested in politics, and as an adult I appreciate those early mornings going door to door.  In college, I would bait my friends into conversations about social issues and policy.  Not many were interested, but the few that were challenged me, and those conversations pushed me to think about things I might not otherwise.  Without dissent there is no democracy.  In my twenties, I would wake up Sunday mornings, walk to 7-11, buy a newspaper, and watch Meet the Press.

In 2008, I text Amanda the day of the election, ‘I got two tickets to Obama’s event in Grant Park tonight.’  ‘If I get on the next bus out I can be there in time if you pick me up at the bus station.  Do you think I should?’  ‘If he wins, we will be witnessing history, yes.’  Amanda got on the next bus out, and a few hours later we were in Grant Park.  It was unseasonably warm that night.  I wore a ‘Badgers for Obama’ t-shirt, and a light brown sweater.  That night, Amanda and I stood in Grant Park with half a million people watching the election results come in.  We watched on large screens set-up through the park, volume off reading the closed captioning. 

At some point, well after the sun had gone down, the scroll changed, ‘we can now predict that Barack Obama has been elected the 44th President of the United States of America.  I turned around in excitement, ‘Amanda, we won…’. She was in tears. ‘Woah, are you ok?’  Through tears of excitement. ‘Do you know what this means for us?  For people of color that have been fighting just to be heard?’  That night, America felt different, for me.  I felt optimistic about the future, and my place within it. 

Election night 2016, I was dog sitting for friends who were out of town, and had invited a few people over to watch the results with me.  That night, I was certain Hillary Clinton would become our first female President.  I was sure she was going to break that glass ceiling.  But as we now know, that was not to be the case.  Later into the night, it seemed as though the election was too close to call, and one by one people slowly started to head home.  I sat there watching the coverage by myself, and finally late into the night, ‘we can now call the election.  Donald J Trump is the 45th President of the United States.  Hillary has left her rally, and will not concede tonight…’  I broke.  How could this happen?  How did we just elect a seemingly racist misogynistic man to be the leader of the free world? 

I voted over the weekend.  I’ve never claimed to know a lot about politics.  Maybe I know just enough.  Or maybe I know just a little bit more than the average person.  Sometimes my vote is an educated guess -like everyone else.

Here’s the thing…. I’m a third generation American. I was raised on the South Side of Chicago.  My parents worked hard to give my sister and I a life better than the one they knew, and by anyone’s assessment they accomplished just that.  They taught us to work hard. They taught us by example, and they instilled that work ethic is us.  My mother to this day will tell us, ‘don’t lie, the truth will always come out.’  They thought us to give back when we could.  They took us to church most weekends and told us to pray every night.  I still know every one of the nightly prayers they thought us, and occasionally still say them even though the Catholic Church and I have occasionally been at odds.  They taught us to be kind, respectful and generous, and to always be thankful for what we were afforded.  As kids, they packed us into a conversion van and we traveled all over this country.  They showed us national landmarks, and parks, and we ate breakfast in small towns in the bible belt of America.  We were given to permission to grow-up and be who we wanted to be in the world, but not without acknowledging what our responsibilities were…. To ourselves and each other.   I voted this weekend.  I won’t claim to understand the intricate details of all of Joe’s plans, but I voted for him because he most closely aligns with the values in which I raised.  And if you think the other guys exemplifies any of the above, then we are just different people at our core. 

I know there’s a lot of concern over tomorrow.  America prepares for the worst.  I don’t know.  I think we’re going to be ok.  I don’t think my story is so different from most peoples.  And I think, like so many other times in our history, we’re going to do the right think.  Here’s hoping at least….

Also, if you’re an undecided voter, I’d like to hug my parents again, so just do me a fucking solid and vote for the guy that won’t get us all killed.