Won't You Please Tell Me?
There as a moment, this morning, where I felt like Sally Field in Steel Magnolias . The scene in the cemetary where it is a method actor's dream monologue. One where you have to chew from the sky to the grass. Where her face becomes a mask of grief. And her hands become claws that scratch and her body, at the air around her. Where you know exactly what it feels like and it makes you want to bawl your eyes out even if you've just had an okay day or makes you feel like burrowing a hole in the floor boards and hiding forever when you've had a bad day. "I wanna know whyyyyyyy!!!" And I have no Olympia Dukakis figure to console me or cheer me up. I don't have a Dolly Parton to offer sharp-barbed colloquialisms or a soft bosom on which to cry. It's times like these where I feel so much like an adult, but all I want to do is have my mom hug me while I sob into her shoulder.
Last night, when my bf was yelling at me from two rooms away to keep it down, since I was chomping chips too loud, I knew the race was over and done. If it had caused someone who has expressed such non-biased, level-headed views thus far to break down from the crunch of a tortilla chip 250 feet away, all rational analyzations were impossible. We just got our coats on quietly, while I cried, and walked to the BP to buy more beer. Silence all around. I'd never heard the neighborhood so quiet. My neighbors didn't come downstairs and I retired soon after we got back. I couldn't even finish half of a Pilsner.
This morning, I contemplated, seriously not going home to Ohio for Thanksgiving. Not because of what happened there, but because of those relatives waiting for me at grandma's house. Those relatives who always find those most distasteful things to say about liberals and the most bald-faced lies to spew about their beloved conservatives. Those relatives who still see me as a 10 year-old shy girl, reading her Nancy Drew books and playing backgammon. I've been told not to get involved in any political or religious discussions as it will only bring them to treat my mother like she isn't worthy of their time. But, what I've decided to do is to educate myself as much as possible, even more than I have been doing. It's time to be an adult. To act like one, instead of remaining so apathetic to my relatives' rude behavior. Sure, they seem to have very little respect for me or my beliefs, but I'm not willing to act the same way. Now, I'm filled with anger. I'm incensed and want to use that surge of anger for something useful.
So, in addition to having them wrinkle their noses at me refusing deep-fried turkey or openly talking about my *shock* gay friends, I'd like for them to understand who I am. Maybe they could meet me halfway, someday down the road. Or maybe they'll just realize that flaunting their bigoted views might make other people uncomfortable. Christ, maybe I'll just take a bottle of wine with me to get through it all.
Reading the letters posted on Salon.com today made me weep again. Here's my favorite:
Many of my liberal friends are seriously discussing leaving the country, for Canada or Europe or New Zealand. It is, of course, tempting. How could we not feel a violent disillusionment and disconnect when we discovered this morning that the majority of voters in the country have a worldview we cannot comprehend? That hate and fear and ignorance can run a successful presidental campaign; that people will respond to these things with eager glee?
And if I wasn't tempted before leaving the house, one look at my car with its Kerry/Edwards bumper sticker -- the only car with such a sticker in the lot -- and how overnight it suddenly acquired a political statement consisting of eggs and shaving cream -- the only car in the lot so decorated -- certainly pushed me in that direction. I imagine the decorators (or their parents) voted on "moral values," as so many Bush supporters did.
But I'm not going to leave, and I made a list of reasons why.
Because this is my country.
Because I'm not letting them have New England autumns, New Mexico sunsets, the Grand Canyon, or Revere Beach.
Because Barack Obama, Ted Kennedy, Barney Frank and a few other stalwarts are isolated enough in a Capitol gone mad without their supporters pulling up and getting out.
Because over a million people voted for Alan Keyes, and that means even in Illinois we can't relax.
Because Massachusetts elected a far-right religious zealot in a gubernatorial race no one bothered to vote in.
Because I do, honestly, want my kids to be American citizens.
Because 200 years ago Americans believed in a separation of church and state, and if there's one thing we seem to be good at, it's regression.
Because we have to speak up even if they're not coming for us personally yet. We're educated and energized and relatively financially secure, and there are a lot of people out there who are none of those things and are at least initially going to suffer far more than we are. We have to speak for them if they can't speak for themselves.
Because this is still my country, and being female and pro-choice and pro-gay rights and an environmentalist and a pacifist and a believer in intelligent leaders and an atheist does not make me un-American or unpatriotic -- and that needs to be screamed from the fucking rooftops.
Because they vandalized my fucking car, and that is their level of discourse.
Because I am not afraid anymore. I am angry.
-- Mary Meiklejohn
Last night, when my bf was yelling at me from two rooms away to keep it down, since I was chomping chips too loud, I knew the race was over and done. If it had caused someone who has expressed such non-biased, level-headed views thus far to break down from the crunch of a tortilla chip 250 feet away, all rational analyzations were impossible. We just got our coats on quietly, while I cried, and walked to the BP to buy more beer. Silence all around. I'd never heard the neighborhood so quiet. My neighbors didn't come downstairs and I retired soon after we got back. I couldn't even finish half of a Pilsner.
This morning, I contemplated, seriously not going home to Ohio for Thanksgiving. Not because of what happened there, but because of those relatives waiting for me at grandma's house. Those relatives who always find those most distasteful things to say about liberals and the most bald-faced lies to spew about their beloved conservatives. Those relatives who still see me as a 10 year-old shy girl, reading her Nancy Drew books and playing backgammon. I've been told not to get involved in any political or religious discussions as it will only bring them to treat my mother like she isn't worthy of their time. But, what I've decided to do is to educate myself as much as possible, even more than I have been doing. It's time to be an adult. To act like one, instead of remaining so apathetic to my relatives' rude behavior. Sure, they seem to have very little respect for me or my beliefs, but I'm not willing to act the same way. Now, I'm filled with anger. I'm incensed and want to use that surge of anger for something useful.
So, in addition to having them wrinkle their noses at me refusing deep-fried turkey or openly talking about my *shock* gay friends, I'd like for them to understand who I am. Maybe they could meet me halfway, someday down the road. Or maybe they'll just realize that flaunting their bigoted views might make other people uncomfortable. Christ, maybe I'll just take a bottle of wine with me to get through it all.
Reading the letters posted on Salon.com today made me weep again. Here's my favorite:
Many of my liberal friends are seriously discussing leaving the country, for Canada or Europe or New Zealand. It is, of course, tempting. How could we not feel a violent disillusionment and disconnect when we discovered this morning that the majority of voters in the country have a worldview we cannot comprehend? That hate and fear and ignorance can run a successful presidental campaign; that people will respond to these things with eager glee?
And if I wasn't tempted before leaving the house, one look at my car with its Kerry/Edwards bumper sticker -- the only car with such a sticker in the lot -- and how overnight it suddenly acquired a political statement consisting of eggs and shaving cream -- the only car in the lot so decorated -- certainly pushed me in that direction. I imagine the decorators (or their parents) voted on "moral values," as so many Bush supporters did.
But I'm not going to leave, and I made a list of reasons why.
Because this is my country.
Because I'm not letting them have New England autumns, New Mexico sunsets, the Grand Canyon, or Revere Beach.
Because Barack Obama, Ted Kennedy, Barney Frank and a few other stalwarts are isolated enough in a Capitol gone mad without their supporters pulling up and getting out.
Because over a million people voted for Alan Keyes, and that means even in Illinois we can't relax.
Because Massachusetts elected a far-right religious zealot in a gubernatorial race no one bothered to vote in.
Because I do, honestly, want my kids to be American citizens.
Because 200 years ago Americans believed in a separation of church and state, and if there's one thing we seem to be good at, it's regression.
Because we have to speak up even if they're not coming for us personally yet. We're educated and energized and relatively financially secure, and there are a lot of people out there who are none of those things and are at least initially going to suffer far more than we are. We have to speak for them if they can't speak for themselves.
Because this is still my country, and being female and pro-choice and pro-gay rights and an environmentalist and a pacifist and a believer in intelligent leaders and an atheist does not make me un-American or unpatriotic -- and that needs to be screamed from the fucking rooftops.
Because they vandalized my fucking car, and that is their level of discourse.
Because I am not afraid anymore. I am angry.
-- Mary Meiklejohn