Day of Possibility, Once Again

God bless America, whose children make its possibility possible.


We walk into that which we cannot yet see.

Say it plain, that many have died for this day....

Praise song for struggle. Praise song for the day....

In today's sharp sparkle, this winter air, anything can be made, any sentence begun. On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp, praise song for walking forward in that light.

excerpts from Elizabeth Alexander, "Praise Song for the Day,"
Inaugural Poem, January 20, 2009
(transcript from the Chicago Sun-Times)

Make your Shepard Fairey-inspired icon at Obamicon.Me

When One Part Rejoices, All Rejoice

I have been holding these thoughts in my heart for over a week now, trying to find true enough words. I also wanted to be sensitive to those disappointed in the election results, because I know that can be difficult. But a couple friends who voted differently took the time to graciously say congratulations, good work for your candidate. And besides the fact that I did so, so little, here’s the thing: sure, I’m happy and proud for me. But I’m rejoicing for these brothers and sisters:

Ebenezer Baptist Church, Atlanta, election night

When one part rejoices, every part rejoices with it.

Oh, yes, I’m pleased that Obama won and hopeful that he will be a wise president and bring about progress on health care and other things that concern me. I’m relieved that the election was not decided by prejudice or muddied by recounts. I’m thankful that all those who gave up so much to do so much for what they believe in could see their labors pay off and encouraged by the level of determination to participate in democracy.

But my deepest happiness is for those to whom this means so much, much more: our fellow citizens who because of color have felt (even if they didn’t really realize it until now) not quite represented, not quite included in the possibilities, not quite sure they would ever see a brown, bold, beautiful first family like this one. The grandchildren of slaves, the survivors of Jim Crow, the marchers and riders and friends of the martyrs, the millions who have borne the burdens of our tangled American history—this means something to them that it never quite could to me, and I am proud that America has affirmed their hope.

I hope we can all recognize the significance of this moment for many of our brothers and sisters even if we do not feel the same or voted differently. We can be happy or disappointed about the electoral outcome, and for me, I am happy—but for black America, I rejoice. I share in their joy in a spiritual way knowing this was more than a political moment. We share it as a human moment.

I rejoice for John Lewis.

I rejoice for Jesse Jackson.

I rejoice for Ebenezer Baptist Church.

I rejoice for the black boy of about nine who tried to explain what it means—“It means no one can tell you you can’t do something . . . No limitations . . .”—but he choked up so badly he had to sit down, his friend patting him comfortingly on the back.

Their joy, pride, and emotion has humbled me and brought me to tears many times this week. I hope we can all recognize the significance of this moment for many of our brothers and sisters even if we do not feel the same or voted differently. We can be happy or disappointed about the electoral outcome and still share in their joy in a spiritual way knowing this was more than a political moment. We share it as a human moment.

What does it mean for the future? Who knows. Black Americans know better than most that inequalities don’t disappear because somebody shared a nice moment. We are not now “post-racial”; we are not “colorblind.” The absurdity of this should be as plain as the ridiculousness of Steven Colbert telling a guest on his show, “I don’t see color, but I’m told that you’re black. Is that true?” Of course he sees color. We all see color, and there is nothing wrong with that. I see color, I see hair—I see brown skin and cornrows on the White House lawn, and it is a beautiful sight!

For me, right now, it means just one less question my daughter will ask: “Why aren’t there any brown presidents?” (A thousand more will still test my—our country’s—ability to answer.)

It means the possibility of seeing one of the first daughters on TV and saying, “Anna, check out Sasha’s twists—should we try your hair that way tomorrow?”

It means many who sometimes felt not quite represented now feel more connected to the community that is our nation, and that is a good, good thing.

It means our children may believe, and that is the greatest of all.

These two boys waited as a long line of adults greeted Senator Obama before a rally on Martin Luther King Day in Columbia, S.C. They never took their eyes off of him. Their grandmother told me, “Our young men have waited a long time to have someone to look up to, to make them believe Dr. King’s words can be true for them.” Jan. 21, 2008. © Callie Shell / Aurora for Time

LINKS for perspective:
"In Our Lifetimes" by Henry Louis Gates at The Root
"Free Our Minds" by Lynne Duke at The Root
"The Imagery of Tuesday" at Jack & Jill Politics (I encourage you to read the comments on some of these election night and day after threads)
"We Rejected So Much History and So Many Rules That Have Bound Us" by Baratunde Thurston
"Daring to Dream of a Black President," leading black voices share what it means to them

Early and Often

I turned my ballot in today. Signed, sealed, delivered (after a slight delay...)!

I would have done it Friday but I messed up the envelopes. There is a security envelope and an outer envelope you sign; I put my ballot in the outer envelope thinking that one went in the security envelope, then realized that's all wrong and it's smaller. Yes, I'm a person who goes out and reminds other people to vote and can even tell them where to check on why they didn't get a ballot, but I'm too incompetent to fill out my own!

Fortunately it was no problem, thanks to our early/mail-in system. I just went in to city hall to see what I should do (answer: reseal outer envelope and sign to indicate I'm the one who taped it up), and because I turned in my ballot there instead of the drive-though drop box, I was able to obtain the coveted I Voted sticker! I am so easily bribed. Like a patriotic four-year-old.

This is why I am glad to see so many states allowing early voting this year. Already people are waiting three, six, eight, almost twelve hours to vote. And there have been some problems with machines and ballots. Can you imagine the chaos and lines in some of these places on November 4 if there had been no early voting? I am sure we'll see problems in some places, especially with the expected heavy turnout, but at least a lot of places have been able to work out the kinks before then without anyone losing their opportunity to vote.

So I heartily encourage you to take advantage of early voting or turn in your mail-in ballot early if you can. As my dad likes to say . . . vote early, vote often!*

P.S.: I celebrated with an elitist fair trade organic latte from my small-town mom-and-pop real American coffeeshop (I'm so confused). Oh yes I did.

* Technically my dad is a politician, since he holds elective office. But rest assured he is hardly the Mayor Daley of Allhomers Township!

Why I'm Doing What I'm Doing Tomorrow

We get a rinky-dink free mini-newspaper every week. These items made up the front page this week:

• Housing Crisis Pains Hippieville
• Dental Van to Offer Free Clinic
• Number of Homeless Youth Grows [on pace to be double last year's number]

And this sign has been on our church door for a couple weeks:


These vouchers, which several local churches give out, are for emergency help with gas, utilities, food, medical expenses. It has never been able to help everyone. Now there's nothing left to help anyone, until the next month. Too many people needing help. Too many problems.

This is a tough place to live in a lot of ways, for a lot of people. Fishing and logging are no longer major industries; the work that's left is very seasonal and service-oriented, which means it goes away in winter and when the economy suffers. My wise friend who knows the community and the medical/insurance world well observed, "This is the worst I've ever seen it," in terms of families struggling to find work, get insurance or medical care, to just make ends meet. And that was a couple months ago. All signs point to things getting worse before they get better.

Meanwhile I watch the news and read the blogs and follow the campaigns. I fret about our budget and the church's budget and whether this investment we made in our home still holds any equity and how we'll ever obtain health care if our situation changes and the kids taking home food the church has collected after youth group because their cupboards are bare. I feel alternately disgusted and inspired and alarmed by the things I hear and see and read. I'm sad, I'm upset, I'm hopeful, I'm determined.

And I'm not going to let that be the end of it.

I am going to do something.

Tomorrow I am going canvassing to register voters and talk to people about Barack Obama and other candidates. I've never done anything like this before. Never been involved in politics at any level beyond voting and a couple of local school or community issues meetings. But like I told the guy when I stopped by the Democratic office today, if I say this is so important, I have to do something. I need to harness and channel my angst and my obsession and my desperate hope into something productive. I need to know that if I'm disappointed, it's not because I didn't do anything. If my kids ask me someday what happened in 2008, I want to say: I did my part for what I thought was best.

I can't explain in this one blog post why this election feels so important to me--other than to point you back to the problems above and your own nightly news--or why I've chosen the candidates I have. And I'm not going to try, because right now I'm not asking you to think like me. I'm asking you to act on what you think.

I honestly want everyone I know to vote, no matter how they'll vote. Most people have an opinion on how things should be, but far too many Americans don't follow through on this fundamental way of expressing our views.

So let me practice my spiel on you:

• Are you registered to vote? Are you sure? If you've moved or haven't voted in a while, you should verify your registration before the deadline, just in case. Oregon's deadline is this Tuesday, October 14.
  
• Do you know where you stand on issues?
• Do you know where the candidates stand?
• Will you be sure to vote on (or by) November 4?

That's really all there is to it, this voting thing. But this democracy thing? That requires a bit more of us to work at its best. I'm looking forward to seeing it from another angle--to see what we'll observe in neighborhoods, what stories people may tell, what people are concerned about, who I'll get to know. I'm sure it'll be interesting, if nothing else.

Report to follow, film at 11.


Disclaimer: These thoughts are the sole property of the person who just happens to be the sole owner of this blog. They are not intended to be partisan (see section 6b, "vote for whoever you want") but if you feel they distract you from your sole goal of seeing how cute my baby is, feel free to pretend this post never happened. Those of you who would like to discuss this topic or others, feel free to leave a comment!

Ask and Ye Shall at Least Get Your Question On Record

I was almost proud of our Congress over the last week. They were told they had an emergency and given a crappy bill, and for once they did their job, going to work turning it into a better bill as fast as possible. They worked together like serious grownups—well, then they didn't, but I think that was just a lame cover-up. (Hey, I did say almost proud.)

The more important lesson is that making our wishes known makes a difference. Citizens went ballistic over the original bailout bill, thinking it was rewarding the crooks, and the House killed it. Citizens went nuts again this week after the market tanked, saying they need to do something, and they are getting it done.

Shaping our democracy is about so much more than November of every four years. Call your representatives, write letters, tell them why something is important to you, and they are likely to listen, especially if enough people do it. Whether it's because you convince them on the merits or they just want to do what their constituents want almost doesn't matter. Just make them get it done. Give them the political will by proving that it's our will.

This is what the ONE Campaign is all about. This is what Bread for the World is all about. This is what groups from Save Darfur to the one saving your local school help us do.

We didn't get a question about global poverty, hunger, genocide in Darfur, human rights and/or religious persecution, or the HIV/AIDS pandemic in the first debate. I understand that because the format did not allow for many questions (only 8) and some of them were diverted to the economy. But the next debate is a town hall format with questions from the audience and submitted over the Internet. If enough people demand that these questions are asked, they will be. Later we must demand that the answers are followed through on.

What would you ask if you had just one question?

Save the Economy, Save the World?

"It is extraordinary to me that you can find $700 billion to save Wall Street and the entire G8 can't find $25 billion to save 25,000 children who die every day of preventable treatable disease and hunger."

—Bono, at the Clinton Global Initiative summit, 9/24/08

Another strange and scary week in the world. It's hard not to be at least a little nervous about our nation's finances and the value of our investments and homes. It's hard not to think that $700 billion is an INSANE amount of money.

But you know what? When something is important to you, you can always find the money.

It's interesting to observe what we choose to use our money (or our credit/debt, actually) for, especially when compared to what people think we are or say they would like us to use it for. If you ask Americans how much of the federal budget goes to foreign aid and development, most people think it is one of the largest spending areas. In reality, although the U.S. pledged in 1992 to give .7 percent of gross national income to development, in 2005 the actual amount was .16 percent. Those decimals are correct—less than one percent.

In 2000 the UN set out the Millennium Development Goals for reducing global extreme poverty by making achievable gains in education, clean water, child mortality, fighting disease, and health care for women and children in particular. The goals are specific, and more importantly, they are achievable. If the world's rich nations raised their development funding by just 1 percent, we could cut extreme poverty and hunger in half by 2015.

We haven't done it.

I went to a Bread for the World workshop on this about seven years ago, when 2015 seemed long off. Now we are halfway there and many of the gains that have been made are being erased by the global food crisis (sudden unavailability of and exponential rises in prices of staple foods) and other factors. Now with our economy requiring a massive infusion of (imaginary?) cash, what will happen to the will to invest beyond our borders?

I know the world is complicated. I know changing spending habits is hard (just ask my own checkbook). I know priorities can sound good in the abstract but get trampled by the tyranny of the urgent.

But I also know that millions of people are suffering, thousands are dying every single day, and we can do something about it—if we want to. Because when something is important to you, you can always find the money.

So in the midst of all the economic nervousness and financial pinching and political drama and excessive pondering thereof of which I am as guilty as anyone, I am trying to keep perspective. I am trying to remember that I am blessed to be able to send a small-to-me, huge-to-her birthday gift to a girl in Ethiopia, even if I feel like I should cling to every ten dollars I can. I am trying to remember that a few dollars more for junk foods I don't really need is nothing comparing to a doubling or tripling in price of the already meager staple foods some live on. Yes, it could still get really bad here. But we still have it really, really good.

And as America turns to the standard bearers of our major political parties for some confidence, some direction, some vision for the future of our country, I will be listening to what they say about our world and hoping for Just ONE Question on global poverty in our increasingly interconnected world. I hope they both say yes, we'll find the money, because that's important to us.

Although it's easy to forget, that's important to me.

Save the economy? Yes. Then, please, let's do what we can to save the world.

We don’t need a mommy war. We’ve got real battles to fight.

I’ve stopped my involuntary crying, but now I have a new problem.

I can’t stop thinking about Sarah Palin.

I think that as a VP candidate, she’s a train wreck for oh so many reasons.

As a mother? I think she seems to love her family, I assume she has plenty of competency and resources to care for them, and beyond that, it’s none of my goshdarn business. But the blogosphere is filling up with questions and opinions about her family situation, her work/family balance, whether or not it’s sexist to question her work/family balance, and so on. Do you see where this is headed?

Yep. Too late. I saw those dreaded, inflammatory, useless words in a headline today: “Mommy War.”

Sigh.

Come on now. We all make compromises in life—to make ends meet, to advance our careers, to follow our passions, to live where we want to live, to deal with how one family member’s actions affect the others, to decide how to focus our time and energy. We have some nonnegotiables, and the rest is constant readjustment, looking for the balance.

In that, Sarah Palin is no different than Michelle Obama, or Joe Biden, or me. Or a million other women and men who are trying to walk the minefield without starting a “war.”

If you want to talk family and politics, let’s talk about all the women and men who whose work/family choices aren’t really choices.

Let’s talk about the parents who don’t have a spouse who can help support the family and how an American can work full time and still earn less than the federal poverty level.

Let’s talk about the women who go back to work right after they give birth not because they are ready but because they can’t afford not to or are afraid they’ll lose their position.

Let’s talk about the families with a child or adult who has a disability, chronic condition, or other preexisting condition that requires care denied by insurance—or who can’t even get insurance because no one will sell it to them due to their condition.

You want to talk about teen pregnancy? Instead of putting a microscope on one family, let’s talk about how even in the best-intentioned and most-attentive family, kids are being crushed by pressures and insecurities most adults have no idea about; let’s talk about how adolescents today are being systemically abandoned by a society that is so narcissistic and adult-centric that it leaves kids on their own to figure out how to become adults—then wonders why they try to grow up too soon yet get stuck in adolescence longer and longer before they really do. (For research and explanation read Hurt by Chap Clark.)

There are plenty of issues having to do with families and children and work and policies that we can and should talk about. These aren’t mommy wars; they’re issues for our whole society—because no one’s family lives in a vacuum. It’s not just how we each build our families; it’s how we want to shape our world.

If we spend all our scrutinizing each other’s choices, we won’t have enough energy left to work for the people who don’t have any choices. We’ll never get anything done except arguing.

I personally don’t think Sarah Palin is the right person to be nominated to be second in line for the one who sets the course for our country. But I don’t think arguing about how the course she is taking may affect her family is helpful for women or for the decisions our country has to make about policies and direction. A “mommy war” over Sarah Palin won’t end oil dependence, stop genocide, or educate kids for the global economy. If we let this time become a battle between women, we’ll never win the fight for our children’s futures.

We don’t need a mommy war. We’ve got real battles to fight.

For John, and Martin, and Anna

Something is wrong with me.

I keep watching the Democratic convention, and I keep crying. Crying!

I know, you’re thinking, Who even watches a convention, let alone cries? Put down the C-SPAN and eat some chocolate, woman!

Yeah, I know. It’s half boring business convention and half rah-rah rally, and I shouldn’t get sucked in. But in between the charged rhetoric and the glammed-up theatrics, I keep seeing these moments of humanity that remind me that these are real people working for their real convictions for how the real world should be.

The overflowing pride of Marian Robinson for her little girl, Michelle.
Michelle Obama steadying Barack's frail old great-uncle Charlie Payne—an interracial family, like mine.
The free-flowing affection of the Biden family, from feisty grandmamma on down.
Lily Ledbetter, who will never personally benefit from the justice she keeps seeking for America’s daughters.
The old African American delegates from all over the country, blinking back tears because they thought they’d never see this day.
Even (good God!) Hillary had me choking up, not at her words but simply to see the clear bond between her and Chelsea.

Oh what an America we would be if we could all be so proud of our families and work so hard for our convictions.

After Barack Obama was officially nominated, one of the networks caught Rep. John Lewis for quick interviews on the floor. In 1965 John Lewis stood and prayed and took a beating on a bridge in Selma, Alabama, for the right of black Americans to be able to register and vote. In his lifetime he will be able to vote for a black man who calls himself a son of Selma because he knows that when he was born, many like Lewis were still being beaten bloody for his right to vote.

That doesn’t mean everyone should vote for Obama—such decisions are based on many factors. I have many friends who won’t, and that’s fine. But I hope that despite our differences we can appreciate that this moment in history is possible because many have stood bravely, many have toiled thanklessly, and yes, many have dared to hope.

So when Barack Obama accepts the nomination for president tonight, yes, I will cry. I am not ashamed to be emotionally overwhelmed by witnessing this moment and knowing I was a part of it.

I will cry knowing that this year, America helped make John Lewis’s dream come true.

I will cry remembering how 45 years ago, Martin Luther King Jr.'s dream helped make my dream come true.

And here she is.

My tears, my joy, my dreams, my work for a better world are for her.

There has never been anything false about hope.

Morning Giggle with a Side of Silly

I have found the perfect T-shirt for our friend Gus:

Donuts and Bacon: Taste We Can Believe In

You have to click the link to see the image. Do it, because the words alone don't capture it.

That is, ahem, deliciously ridiculous.

This Is the Moment

Last night was the moment: the first black nominee for President of the United States. Whether you will vote for him or not, take a minute to consider that when Barack Obama was born in 1961, he was not guaranteed the right to vote. People died so that last night could happen. I don't know nearly enough about them, but I am grateful. Because of them and many others, my daughter can live a free and equal life in America with me. Because of them my daughter can participate fully in shaping our world through the changes to come.

This is the moment I am sure this is possible.

If we are willing to work for it, and fight for it, and believe in it, then I am absolutely certain that generations from now, we will be able to look back and tell our children that this was the moment. . . . This was the moment – this was the time – when we came together to remake this great nation so that it may always reflect our very best selves, and our highest ideals.

-- Barack Obama, June 3, 2008

P.S.: Oh yeah . . . pound it, baby!

I Voted

In lieu of sticker . . . photographic proof!


Can I just say that I freaking love voting? It just makes me feel so stinking patriotic to take the time to go to my local polling place, see all my fellow community members, say hi to all the nice old ladies volunteering, fill out and turn in my ballot, and wear that awesome "I Voted" sticker all day. I love to see others wearing it too, no matter who they voted for--the most important thing is that we all participate. If you don't vote, you can't complain, I say.

Of course now that we live in Oregon all voting is done by mail, which works well but is not nearly so satisfying. I like to at least drop my ballot in the drop box rather than my own mailbox, since that makes me feel like it's at least a little bit more important than paying my cable bill.

Aaron is getting ready to head to Portland to fly out early for Michigan for his bro's wedding. Anna and I should have sufficient stores of whole milk and ice cream and TiVo'ed TV to get us through these five and a half days. And events have conspired to keep me away from my work, so every moment she's asleep and I can stay awake, it's nose to the red-penciled grindstone for me.

Remember the Friday movie plans? Six of us gathered and piled in a friend's gas-guzzler, drove to the theater and the power was out. Happily, the babysitter was available for a do-over the next day, and we had a great time and enjoyed the movie despite its in many ways bearing little resemblance to the book. Spoiler alert: Prince Caspian looks like young Keanu Reeves. But he never does say, "Whoaaaah."

Miscellaneous May

We are having a heat wave. Here on the coast that means 80 degrees and one billion tourists. It’s going to be even hotter tomorrow—pushing 90—and I was already sweating all afternoon. I have become weak. But Anna can wear her cute sundresses!

I am hoping to finish reading Prince Caspian tonight before we go to the movie tomorrow. Last trip to the movie theater was July 2007 (for Harry Potter V). And we’ve rented exactly one movie since then. What can we say—TV shows are more our after-baby’s-bedtime attention span these days. (Long live David Cook.)

I have new work which is paid at a flat rate instead of by the hour. You’d think this would motivate me to burn right through it, but so far it’s not meshing well with the nice weather and movie plans.

John Edwards made my day yesterday. Love that two Americas spiel ('cuz it's true) and the focus on cutting U.S. poverty in half in ten years. GR is in shock because they weren’t aware there were any Democrats in GR, let alone 15,000+. All my GR people were calling me and bragging. Okay, not all my people. Those who like Obama and/or just get excited when Bland Vapids makes CNN (*cough* Mom).

Next week Aaron is going to Michigan by himself for his brother’s wedding, and then a friend from there is coming back with him to visit (which I keep forgetting about). It’s a horrible time of year for a trip—so much end of the school year stuff going on—so he’s extra busy this week and it will be a short trip. It may feel long for me, depending how much baby girl wears me down. Props to you single parents who do it all the time.

In related news, with the pediatrician’s encouragement, Little Ms. Independence has been introduced to the concept of Time Out. It’s just a minute or two in her crib alone (screaming) for offenses such as malicious destruction of property, attempted injury/dismemberment of self or others, and willful driving of mother to insanity.

Ah yes, the doctor. Anna had a checkup last week and she is officially older, bigger, and more skilled in the arts of growing up. She’s 22.5 pounds and 30 inches tall. She has a big head and six teeth. She has a few new skills (scribbling, kissing, attempted use of spoon) and a few new words (doggie, moo, Obama). She got two shots but only screamed madly for about one minute.

She is certified adorable, but you didn’t need a doctor to tell you that. You only need a photo fix. Here are a few from Mother's Day, which was a normal Sunday—mellow in between busy—but nice. We wore our red clothes for Pentecost. The red shoes were her birthday present and can I just say I stinking love them and that sweater?

In the evening the youth group played a hilarious imitation of softball (90 percent of us having no softball skills whatsoever). Anna demanded, between sippys, to hear some chatter out there.

Today she was my laundry helper, handing me the clothespins one at a time. Later she was happy to take them back and put them in the bag.

And if you think that's adorable . . . wait till you see her discovering she loves the slide at the school!

Meanwhile, in the Real World

I have already confessed my addiction to presidential politics, even the horserace aspects. But I might have to reject and denounce my media consumption after the embarrassing waste of two hours which was last night’s “debate” on ABC.

Almost one hour, HALF THE DEBATE, spent on political “gotcha” baloney before they bothered to ask a question about an actual issue affected by government. I expected some “small town bitterness” talk since that was the current discussion. But I did not expect to hear the words, after several other questions about him, “Do you think Rev. Wright loves America as much as you do?” Ah, the former volunteered-for-Vietnam Marine versus United States Senator patriotism-off . . . is there really any good answer here? Except perhaps “flag pins!” because I kid you not, that was also asked.

I half expected Who would win in a fight: Rev. Wright or a Bosnian sniper?

By the time they got to issues, my brain was too numbed to focus on them. Not much loss since the economy discussion centered largely on the capital gains tax—a burning issue affecting few blue-collar factory workers but 99.5 percent of debate moderators—and they also brought out such blasts from the past as gun control and affirmative action which don’t even register on the lists of issues Democratic voters are saying are important right now. Health care is high on that list but was not mentioned at all. Neither were the housing crisis, Afghanistan, education, torture, trade, or the environment. But we covered the flag pin issue!

Meanwhile, in the real world:

Truckers are beginning to protest the cost of diesel fuel, and they could halt the movement of 70 percent of the nation’s goods if they chose to.

Top Bush advisors personally authorized the use of specific interrogation techniques considered by many to be torture, including waterboarding.

Your government now monitors huge volumes of records of domestic emails and Internet searches as well as bank transfers, credit-card transactions, travel and telephone records. This may include collecting and analyzing all electronic communications into and out of a city.

The cost of basic food items are soaring, bringing fear, riots, and hunger. World Bank President Robert Zoellick has said the surging costs could mean "seven lost years" in the fight against worldwide poverty.

But did you hear about those things on the news? Probably not much. There isn’t enough airtime left after making sure we all know the Barack Obama bowled a 37 and had the audacity to request orange juice in a diner.

No, I’m not bitter. Not bitter at all.

So, the questions of the day: How do we make sure we are getting a balanced diet of news and information about issues? Do you trust the “mainstream media” to keep you informed? If not, what are you favorite “alternative” sources of national, world, political, cultural, and other news?

Back to the lighter side: There is always The Colbert Report, which is broadcasting from Pennsylvania this week. Michelle Obama (with whom I am in love) appeared this week and Hillary Clinton is appearing tonight. Who will get the coveted Colbert Bump?

You've just lived through history.

Did you watch it yet? Or at least read it?

In the white community, the path to a more perfect union means acknowledging that what ails the African-American community does not just exist in the minds of black people; that the legacy of discrimination - and current incidents of discrimination, while less overt than in the past - are real and must be addressed. Not just with words, but with deeds – by investing in our schools and our communities; by enforcing our civil rights laws and ensuring fairness in our criminal justice system; by providing this generation with ladders of opportunity that were unavailable for previous generations. It requires all Americans to realize that your dreams do not have to come at the expense of my dreams; that investing in the health, welfare, and education of black and brown and white children will ultimately help all of America prosper.

In the end, then, what is called for is nothing more, and nothing less, than what all the world’s great religions demand – that we do unto others as we would have them do unto us. Let us be our brother’s keeper, Scripture tells us. Let us be our sister’s keeper. Let us find that common stake we all have in one another, and let our politics reflect that spirit as well.

For we have a choice in this country. We can accept a politics that breeds division, and conflict, and cynicism. . . . We can do that. But if we do, I can tell you that in the next election, we’ll be talking about some other distraction. And then another one. And then another one. And nothing will change.

That is one option. Or, at this moment, in this election, we can come together and say, “Not this time.” This time we want to talk about the crumbling schools that are stealing the future of black children and white children and Asian children and Hispanic children and Native American children. . . . This time we want to talk about how the lines in the Emergency Room are filled with whites and blacks and Hispanics who do not have health care. . . . This time we want to talk about the fact that the real problem is not that someone who doesn’t look like you might take your job; it’s that the corporation you work for will ship it overseas for nothing more than a profit.

This time we want to talk about the men and women of every color and creed who serve together, and fight together, and bleed together under the same proud flag. We want to talk about how to bring them home from a war that never should’ve been authorized and never should’ve been waged, and we want to talk about how we’ll show our patriotism by caring for them, and their families, and giving them the benefits they have earned.

I would not be running for President if I didn’t believe with all my heart that this is what the vast majority of Americans want for this country. This union may never be perfect, but generation after generation has shown that it can always be perfected. And today, whenever I find myself feeling doubtful or cynical about this possibility, what gives me the most hope is the next generation – the young people whose attitudes and beliefs and openness to change have already made history in this election.

Please, America, let this man lead us . . .

Yes we can heal our nation.


My shirt came just in time for my surge of pride. I just heard that Obama is going to be in Oregon this week, but it's Good Friday and my other favorite preacher has a gig. Maybe next time. Meanwhile, I got the form to re-register as a Dem (Oregonians must do this by April 29) so I can vote in the primary. Not gonna miss my chance.

Meanwhile . . . five years, $503,910.280,701, give or take $12 billion a month. Where can I find a bumper sticker that says "IRAQ: I TOLD YOU SO"? Sigh.

Love to Change the World

My friend says she's disappointed surprised I haven't talked politics more on my blog, given the arguments discussions we used to have back in Conservatism Central. I'm not in the mood for a rant (stay tuned, I'm sure I will be), so she'll have to keep waiting on that part, but she oughta get a laugh out of what I got us for Valentine's Day . . . OBAMAWEAR!

(Because, after all, he's stolen my bleeding heart.)

We're not really Valentine's Day/minor holiday people. Every day should be full of love and yada yada yada. Plus being lazy and cheap and busy. (And married. Or is this getting redundant?) But with our presidential primary so late as to hopefully be useless, I wanted to do something to show my new crush how I feel about him. And I figured hey, if I'm going to contribute, might as well get a shirt out of it, right?

I consulted Aaron and decided on this one and he told me he wanted this one and of course stickers. Unfortunately everything is backordered so who knows when we'll get anything. But I did put the sticker Artsy Betty gave me for Christmas on my van the other day, and just being so bold made this ObamaMama feel proud to be an American.

I've never given money to a politician before, although in college my roomie and I did go to a Bob Dole rally. I've never sported a bumper sticker or a shirt--not for lack of interest or passion about issues but because I've never felt strongly for someone. But this time is different, and I really feel like Obama is different--not perfect or a messiah but certainly, compared to what we've been settling for, more full of potential and more authentic and more able to make us want to be more of what America should and can be. We are so used to despairing of all we are not that we've forgotten how to even ask if we can be more. Finally we have someone encouraging us to dream big American dreams again and whispering the encouragement and trumpeting the power to reach for them: Yes we can.

These are not the issues reasons for my choice, of course. Those we can get into another day and are freely available on things called the Internets and newspapers for those who want to know (I don't get this whole "his speeches are vague" argument--they all talk vaguely at rallies, because people don't like policy lectures, but that doesn't mean they don't have plans). These are the heart reasons I feel I have to fight for him to have a chance to make a change--because if he never gets a chance, we'll never know what might have been possible. And I want to know I did my part to say yes to the possibilities.

So we didn't go out to dinner and we didn't buy overpriced flowers. I could go for some chocolate, but, endorphins notwithstanding, chocolate doesn't change a thing. This Valentine's Day, we put our love to work for change.

See, love really can change the world.

Yes we can.

Politics (Addiction) As Usual

I am an on-and-off political junkie. I had been disconnected from the news and not thinking much about the presidential race, but I fell off the wagon (is it off the wagon or on the wagon?) the moment I saw the Internet headline “Obama Wins Iowa Caucus.” I immediately turned on CNN and experienced violent West Wing cravings.

My nerdiness waned but then peaked on New Hampshire primary day. I broke my own rules to keep the TV on with Anna wandering about able to watch (“Honey, too close. I know he’s pretty, but don’t kiss John Edwards.”).

First I heard Mitt Romney give, I'm sorry, a horrid speech. What a schmoe. How did I ever think he was a serious candidate? Clearly without having heard him.

Next, John McCain, and I thought, Dang, he’s presidential. Okay, maybe mostly in a "The state of the Union is boring" kind of way. But did you know that at age 71 he is older than the state of Alaska?

Later I saw John Edwards speak. Preach, brother! I like that kid. He’s a good storyteller.

Then we saw Barack Obama, GLORY HALLELUJAH AMEN YES WE CAN!

Finally came Hillary Clinton, and I thought, Damn, she’s smart. Who’s crying now? (Answer: Wolf Blitzer.)

Who's going to win? Beats me, but I’m not ashamed to admit I like watching the game. ’Cuz at the end of it, don’t blame me, I voted for Bartlet.

Happy primary day, Michigan. Too bad you only half count.

Reporter: In addition, Mike Huckabee can draw on strong pro-life support from a very large Dutch community.

Jon Stewart: I always knew Huckabee was in the pocket of big wooden shoe!