Brave, Anyway

Tag: election

  • Lingering Disappointment

    Lingering Disappointment

    You should never ever tell me how you voted. This is the conclusion I’ve come to. In order for us to coexist peacefully or for me to not be disappointed in you, I cannot know that you voted for a candidate who would not support my daughter. I cannot know that you voted against my daughter.

    I logically know that no one voted against Audrey. In fact, I’m one hundred percent positive that she never crossed your mind as you voted. And yet, she’s one of the two most important people in my life, so I cannot do anything – especially vote – without her at the forefront of my mind.

    As a cancer survivor, it’s incredibly important that Audrey always have health care. I’m a believer that health care is important and necessary for all people, but it’s truly critical that those among us who have battled or who are battling serious diseases or conditions receive care from childhood into adulthood. That means the parents of the most vulnerable need access to affordable health care and coverage, and that those kids who are the most vulnerable have access to affordable care and coverage as they move into adulthood.

    Maybe Audrey will be waiting tables when she’s 26, trying to finish grad school or medical school or law school. Maybe she’ll be an artist or a missionary or fixing cars. Whatever she wants to do, whatever she’s called to do, she will need access to health care. Which means she likely needs to be a cube dweller (and maybe not focusing on her calling), working in a job that doesn’t need advanced education, or she needs some form of the ACA to be in place.

    I want my child to have the same access to health care as anyone else’s child. Not only is she deserving of that as a human being, she fought very hard for life.

    So we can disagree on things like the second amendment, climate change measures, and taxes – but we cannot disagree on health care without me harboring a grudge against you and wondering if you really care about Audrey. Because no matter why you cast a vote for a candidate, I see your vote against Audrey.

    And maybe that’s not fair and maybe it’s mean. But it’s how I feel, and it feels good to give it a voice. I am longing for the day that America is a country where health care is not a partisan issue. Because sometimes I feel like West Virginia in the 1860s.

    How It Started and How It’s Going

  • Embers of Hope

    And we still don’t know, just as I suspected. And yet just as I dreaded. We may not know the outcome of the presidential election for quite some time, but we do know this: many of our neighbors and friends that we have categorized as good people because they are nice to us have in them the ability to support racism and the mistreatment of women and children. I will never understand how someone can say they are a Christian and support someone who so blatantly is not.

    My heart is heavy.

    I did not expect a landslide and yet my heart had this hope I was afraid to ever voice. It hoped that there was goodness in more people than I believed. That their goodness would rise up and stand for their neighbor. That their faith would rise up and say this behavior is not right and not what Jesus would do.

    It still matters to me who wins. But my faith in the goodness of people took another huge hit in the last 24 hours.

    Election day 2020 in my RBG sweatshirt. Not pictured: oldest jeans I own and furry pink slippers.
  • What is Great?

    What is Great?

    I want America to be great. But sometimes that’s hard to even visualize when I look at where we are today.

    What does great even mean? That word has been co-opted by people wearing red hats and I’m not even sure that the majority of them can define the greatness we used to have that we supposedly need to get back to.

    Does great mean when we had prayer in schools? I think that’s what a lot of well-meaning Christians are holding on to. Prayer in schools is the panacea for drugs, pregnancy outside of marriage, respect for elders, vandalism, anger, and a thousand other things. But it’s not prayer in schools that’s going to fix those things. It’s prayer in our homes. In our cars at a stop light. In line at the market. And most importantly, in our hearts. “Prayer in schools” as the reason America has gone to hell in a hand basket is such a cop out – if you really want to point fingers, the end of prayer in schools began when we largely gave up on prayer in our homes and in our hearts.

    Does great mean before Roe v. Wade? Because abortion wasn’t invented in the twentieth century. It’s been around since the beginning of time, in the form of herbs and bloodletting and a dozen other precarious methods. And if Roe v. Wade is overturned it will still be around and practiced just as it is today, and just as it was before that Supreme Court decision – managed by individual states.

    Does great mean when women couldn’t own a home without a man’s signature? When men had a lot more “say” in everything? Or perhaps great refers to the time before Brown v. Board of Education or before the civil rights movement? Or does great mean before the immigration of people from non-white nations? Or maybe great means when the number of young people signing up to join the military was higher, when we were in the Cold War or just after September 11? I am a child of a veteran, I support our military, and tears still fill my eyes every time I see families waiting on piers for loved ones to come home. But sometimes I wonder if we are really a country that loves our military (wouldn’t we pay them more if we did?), or if we are more of a country of people that just loves to rally around a conflict and that live vicariously through the young people kicking some ass somewhere out there.

    I’ve yet to hear anyone who wants America to be great “again” define it in a way that makes sense to me, except for the people solely focused on money. And while I don’t agree on trickle down economics and tax cuts for wealthy people, at least they are real about their motives and I can respect that.

    I want America to be great. Not “again” though, because I think maybe it hasn’t ever been great for a lot of Americans. It’s been great for me, but I’m white and didn’t grow up in poverty or oppression. Part of being a good human, and part of being a good Christian for those of us that are people of faith, is not just caring about self. It’s also recognizing when other humans need help and providing that help if possible. And perhaps most importantly for today, it’s recognizing when other humans are discriminated against – by authority figures, by neighbors or colleagues, by laws and by systems – and standing against that. Setting WWJD aside, we should all be concerned about discrimination in any form against any American because history has taught us over and over again that if we allow discrimination against anyone, we risk being discriminated against as seasons change.

    As far as I can tell, “Make America Great Again” is about loving your neighbor if your neighbor looks and loves and prays like you, but sends cursory thoughts and prayers to everyone else. It’s a way to hide behind canned talking points because of motives surrounding faith and race and gender we don’t want to acknowledge, let alone speak about.

    Maybe this election cycle is more vicious and divisive because of who walks the halls of the White House and Capitol, maybe it’s because we’re actually at a tipping point morally, maybe it’s because we’ve all been quarantined and are just cranky and combative, or maybe it’s a combination of all of it. But I’m so tired of it all. I’m tired of “good” people – Christians especially – perpetuating the self-serving and idiotic belief that real Christians vote red and actively participating in or turning a blind eye to all the discrimination in this country. People are supposed to see Jesus through us, and we’re supporting and pointing them to politicians and programs and systems that do not reflect the love with which we are supposed to be filled.

    I’ve been reading Jesus for President by Shane Claiborne. I love how he characterizes the job of the disciples: “It wasn’t a call to take the sword or the throne and force the world to bow. Rather, they were to live the contagious love of God, to woo the nations into a new future.”

    I want America to be a place where all my neighbors – especially our nation’s veterans and children and elderly – have food and shelter and medicine. I recognize that’s a bit of a pipe dream given our current financials but is that so much to ask that we work toward? Why would those basics even be tied to one political party instead of core tenets of all political parties? I don’t care if your shirt has a donkey or an elephant on it, I have and will vote for you if you can show me you believe in the equality of all people, that you haven’t purposely mistreated people, and that you have empathy for people not like you.

    We have to stop being afraid of one another, of differences. We have to catch and stop when deeply rooted beliefs of favor or better rear their ugly heads in our hearts. We can love, and are called to love, our neighbor regardless of how different they are so that people see love through us, regardless of whether we are a Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Jew, or Hindu.

    If we allow ourselves to continue to buy into canned talking points and excuses, which we tell ourselves and others to make us feel better, we will never actually work to make anything great. We need to start accepting responsibility for all the beliefs and generalizations and fears that we secretly harbor about people who are not like us, for all that we’re voting for, for all that we’re voting against, and for all we’ve been allowing.

    Sydney Ellen Wade, played by Annette Benning in The American President, said exactly how I’ve been feeling for months and maybe years: “How do you have patience for people who claim they love America, but clearly can’t stand Americans?”

    Our vote is never just for a policy we’re passionate about, it’s for the whole person whose name we choose. No matter our choice, some things about that person will be good and some will be bad. But we can’t say we’re voting just to save unborn babies or for health care, and think that absolves us of responsibility as it relates to supporting the character and integrity of the person we chose.

  • Good Humans in the Middle

    Good Humans in the Middle

    It’s Presidents’ Day, and this year we’re going to elect a President. As I’ve gotten older, our choice of leadership has seemed more and more important – not just because I think we chose so poorly last time, but also because 20 years ago I would have told you that I wasn’t sure all our votes were counted. I guess five key things have changed since those days:

    1. I became a mother, and now I feel the responsibility to do something about the world my girls live in.
    2. I have encountered children, including one of my own, who will be categorized as pre-existing condition when they reach adulthood and will desperately need health care after their parents can no longer cover them.
    3. I have seen first-hand how the privileged have access to better everything. Better legal services. Better education. Better health care. Better chances of getting a second chance. Better chances at being given the benefit of the doubt. Money and education make a huge difference in the kind of treatment and care people have access to, and ultimately their odds of survival and their quality of life.
    4. The world has changed. People with guns enter places that used to be safe and they take the lives of others, including our nation’s children.
    5. Al Gore lost the presidency, and I truly started to believe that votes are counted and they matter.

    The more I think about this coming election and all the craziness in our country right now, and the more I encounter people of all backgrounds and who vote in a variety of ways, the more I’m convinced that the majority of America is not represented by what we see in Washington and what we see on the news. The majority of us are not just right or left, or Republican or Democrat, or liberal or conservative. The majority of us are somewhere in the middle, in an area defined by shades instead of absolutes. Our life experiences move our political needle, and hopefully also our empathy needle, as we make mistakes or get to know people not like us or get a diagnosis or someone we love is hurt.

    But the candidates we’re presented with right now seem to either fall at the far sides, where the absolutes reside, or act like they do simply to secure votes.

    It’s absolutely crazy to me that someone would say that any political party has no room for someone who believes differently. You can’t be a Democrat if you believe abortion is wrong? Or you can’t be a Republican if you think access to guns should have limits?

    That. Is. Stupid.

    And incredibly short-sighted.

    You know what else is crazy and short-sighted? Our thoughts on instances or events have suddenly started getting us lumped into an absolute value type of category.

    I can see a video of police brutality and think the officer in it is an asshole while also believing in the goodness of other law enforcement officers. I can kneel during the national anthem and still love America and care about our military and be thankful for their sacrifice. I can think that abortion is wrong and still respect the right of others to make different choices or even just believe that government should not have control over those sorts of things.

    You can vote Republican and believe in restrictions for assault rifles or funding for climate solutions. You can vote Democrat and believe in prayer in schools or not want federal funding for Planned Parenthood.

    What most of us can agree on, I think, is what makes a good person. Someone who is kind, who tries their best, looks for the truth, helps others, has empathy, and does the right thing when no one is looking. We are not all ever going to agree on the issues of the day, but it seems like we could at least agree on the need for our country’s leaders to be good humans – and to vote accordingly. In all the years I’ve voted I have never seen so many good people get caught up on opposite sides instead of focusing on the simplicity of who’s qualified and who’s a good human?

    This is not the time to not vote. It’s not the time to stick our heads in the sand and worry about our hair while we let the rest of America figure this out. As the old saying goes if we don’t stand for something, we’ll fall for absolutely anything – and that’s true in our personal lives, in our professional lives, and in our politics.

    It shocks me how many people can listen to our current President and think there’s a good human. Set the political issues aside – really look at a person who laughed about grabbing and mistreating women, who belittled the family members of a fallen soldier, who made fun of a former POW, and who made fun of someone with a disability. I challenge you to then look at yourself in the mirror and say I want my children to be like him or I aspire to be like him.

    A number of people, including our current president, are interviewing for the job of leader of our country. It’s our job to decide who gets that job and that decision is not just about key metrics, but also, and most importantly, about each candidate’s goodness or lack of it.

    The supreme quality for leadership is integrity.
    Dwight D. Eisenhower