Back in the Boat
It would be a mistake to make the 2020 election all about beating Donald Trump. There will always be another Trump.
After the election, if Biden wins, the 30% or more of Americans who deeply believe in what Trump represents will still be there. They will be attending our extended family dinners, working next to us at our employments, and sitting on the beach where we sit, just six feet away. This election should be about our commitment (limited or extensive) to causes and connections that rise above the caricatures and the rhetoric real or imagined.
In the spring, I was deeply discouraged the democratic voters in America did not see the value in choosing a woman to lead the ticket as President. In some of my posts back in March I stated that it appeared the only way a woman would be able to get into the White House was as Vice-President. She would have to be picked by a white male and then wait to see what opportunities the future might bring. That is exactly what happened. Although I see Kamala Harris as a strong politician, it was difficult to celebrate her nomination. It was just too hard to have to admit our second place status, so I decided not to watch the televised convention. Somehow, on the last evening, I relented. I was impressed with the remote format. So many topics and people were included that might not have been in a traditional venue. The nominee’s speech was inspiring, but my heart was already changed when the young boy shared about Biden’s help with his stuttering. I tried over the next few weeks to accept the opportunity Harris had been given.
Early in my writing I spoke about my cottage in Huron County, Michigan. This is a heavy republican county, with many businesses refusing to adhere to social distancing and mask protocol. Last week I visited the Democratic Party headquarters to pick up a Biden/Harris sign and to find out what volunteer opportunities were available. I was told hundreds of signs had gone out, but vigilante groups in the surrounding communities were stealing 70% of them. How pathetic. Currently they were out of stock.
In lieu of picking up advertising props, I agreed to sign up to do phone calls, something I had done for the Warren campaign. As I sat at my computer that first evening, the familiar sense of trepidation set in. Did I have the heart to take on the possible ridicule, or indifference by fellow Americans to my supplications? As I have written before, connecting does not come easy to me. With the Warren campaign it was difficult to go door to door, or call people about the multitude of candidates. When a woman was not chosen after all of my hard effort, I gave up. Trump didn’t discourage me. I did it all on my own.
Over the next several months somehow the isolation of the pandemic, and the striving to stay healthy made the rhetoric of politics less important.
I was ready to dive in again and as I called, leaving mostly messages, I found my inspiration renewed. I only got one actual person, a woman, who said she could not support the democratic ticket because she was a very conservative woman. I realized as she hung up, in many respects, I also considered myself a very conservative woman. I wish we could have talked more about what made our conservative perspectives the same or different.
This election is not about any one person. It is not about debating and negating. It is about finding the other. It is the adage of casting your net out to see what returns.
So, on day 60 leading up to the election, I am back in the boat again. I’m making calls. I’m voting early. I’m committed to finding my place next to others in this democracy. I’ve reset and for now that means I will keep writing, regardless the outcome in November.
