The story of how I became disillusioned with politics.
I was in sixth grade and I had made the All-City Choir which is a thing you had to try out for and they did a big concert after a few weeks of rehearsals. I can't remember if it was all middle grades together or if I was in a specific group made up of only sixth graders. That doesn't really matter much. Because eighth graders can't vote any more than sixth graders can vote.
So, I was at rehearsal one night and maybe they were working on the boys part or something because the two girls next to me were talking about something and I was doing my best to politely ignore them so as not to be thought of as nosy. I didn't really know anyone there. Or if I did, I wasn't seated anywhere near them, since they arranged us first by voice (soprano/alto/tenor/bass) and then by height so that we'd all be seen on the risers. I was almost always in the back row... because I've always been an elf. Even in preschool I was the tallest kid in the class.
But anyway, they were talking and giggling and trying not to get caught. And I was ignoring them because this was the year that school kind of broke my spirit and I was always on guard because I was always getting picked on for being one of the only white kids in school. These girls were white. I thought there was less of a chance of them picking on me. Maybe. But I was wrong in the most ridiculous way.
At one point they both turned to me and asked, "so, are you for George Bush or Bill Clinton?" I just stared at them blankly with this look like, "uhm, did you really just ask me that? What the fuck does it matter who I'm for? I'm ten years old and so are you probably." I squeaked out a timid, "I don't know." They looked at each other smugly and said, "she's probably for Ross Perot." And giggled to themselves. We didn't say a word to each other through any other practice or the performance.
But I sat there, feeling dejected. And feeling really, really confused at why I felt dejected. I had no idea who stood for what and who had what policy on what big adult problem I tried not to bother my sixth grader head with. I knew only what I had seen in Saturday Night Live skits with Dana Carvey and Phil Hartman (rest his soul... aw, now I'm sad). I'm pretty sure these girls had no idea except what they heard their parents talk about at the dinner table every night. It wasn't like they weighed the issues and made up their own minds. And there's still the huge glaring fact that none of this should fucking matter to a middle school student who has at least five more years, or more than likely eight, before they can vote.
I was raised under the notion that it wasn't polite to discuss politics in mixed company. My mom would never even tell me who she voted for. She always said you don't tell people. It invites conflict. This was the household I grew up in. She listened to Rush Limbaugh everyday, but I couldn't really make out what point he was trying to make through the sound of loudly rustled papers and throat clearing. So I never really understood what side he was on until I was older and as a kid, it wasn't really my job to care. Knowing what I know now, I can guess how she probably voted. But since I was still so many years off from voting age, I really didn't make it my business to follow politics, as if I could fully understand it anyway. As if these girls could fully understand it.
Their smug laughter at my expense stung just as much as if they had made fun of the way I wore my hair or the music I listened to or the way I talked or something else I thought defined me at the time. And I sat there, distracted for the rest of the night trying to figure out why this bothered me. Really, it was just their tone of false superiority. And that rings true through any sort of bullying. It doesn't really matter what the bully is making fun of you for. That they lord it over you that they have something better is really all that matters, even if it's completely baseless (because it almost always is). Even if you shake it off, there's always this nagging feeling that you should have stood up for yourself instead of falling into the script of the victim. That you should have said something to make them feel stupid for laughing at you. Turned it around on them. I guess Gandhi would be proud that I didn't. And I guess I've learned not to engage idiots in processing this experience. The value of the lesson is not lost on me, but I hate that I had to sit there and squirm like there was something wrong with me because I didn't know, nor did I care, who I would vote for if I were 8 years older.
Now I look back on this and I think about those girls and where they are now and I think about the fact that they probably still don't know who stands for what and still probably haven't weighed the issues that are important to them and made up their own minds. I think they probably haven't because in my jaded outlook, I feel like a frightening majority of voters don't. They watch the news they prefer and narrow their scope to only those with whom they agree, never challenging their outlook. Never forcing themselves to objectively look at something. Always afraid to admit they might be wrong. Most people are constantly backing themselves further into whichever corner they feel the most comfortable.
I see it all the time, adults attacking each other like this. "How can you be so stupid to believe [candidiate]'s lies?!" As if there is such a thing as a politician who doesn't lie or at the very least isn't trying to bend the truth in an attempt to sell you on them and gain your vote. But this is scary. It's one thing for stupid sixth graders to think this way. It's another thing entirely for them to never grow out of it and become voting adults who think this way. It's bothered me now for 21 years. It's a game where no one wins. There's almost never an intelligent debate, even amongst people I know for a fact are extremely intelligent because they're my friends and loved ones and I know they're better than this. But for some reason, it always comes down to lowest common denominator. "You don't agree with me so I'm going to insult your intelligence because the only way you wouldn't agree with me is if you're stupid."
At ten years old, I checked out of the political process forever. I still show up to the polls on election day (or before). But apart from watching The Daily Show and The Colbert Report which both make a living laughing at this ridiculousness, I do not engage in the political process at all. Not even to say, "I've voted!" or "I support [candidate]." Because honestly, I haven't seen a candidate that I can say I support. I'll vote for one. But it comes down to how much I can tolerate them by degrees. I weigh the pros and cons the best I can and I check a box. I don't watch the news. I don't listen to the radio. I look shit up and try to verify it from multiple sources if I can (and if I can't, I throw that entire point out, because if you can't verify it, you shouldn't make a decision based on it). Then, I make a decision in the silent privacy of the voting booth. I mean, if you know me and know what's important to me, you can probably take a guess at who I might vote for. You might be wrong, but you could take a guess. And that doesn't mean that candidate has my support. It just means I think they might focus on what matters to me.
Honestly, I couldn't care less about the presidential election. I really, really don't care about those asshats anymore. I'm over it. I care more about getting a local guy to our State House of Representatives because of the awesome things he's done for our community as a City Council member. I just really can't be bothered by this bickering anymore. And I can't help but ponder the rantings of the tinfoil hat camp that all this is on purpose to keep us fighting each other so we don't notice the bullshit they're pulling while we're not looking. I don't really believe that, but it's hard not to think it sometimes.
So, I was at rehearsal one night and maybe they were working on the boys part or something because the two girls next to me were talking about something and I was doing my best to politely ignore them so as not to be thought of as nosy. I didn't really know anyone there. Or if I did, I wasn't seated anywhere near them, since they arranged us first by voice (soprano/alto/tenor/bass) and then by height so that we'd all be seen on the risers. I was almost always in the back row... because I've always been an elf. Even in preschool I was the tallest kid in the class.
But anyway, they were talking and giggling and trying not to get caught. And I was ignoring them because this was the year that school kind of broke my spirit and I was always on guard because I was always getting picked on for being one of the only white kids in school. These girls were white. I thought there was less of a chance of them picking on me. Maybe. But I was wrong in the most ridiculous way.
At one point they both turned to me and asked, "so, are you for George Bush or Bill Clinton?" I just stared at them blankly with this look like, "uhm, did you really just ask me that? What the fuck does it matter who I'm for? I'm ten years old and so are you probably." I squeaked out a timid, "I don't know." They looked at each other smugly and said, "she's probably for Ross Perot." And giggled to themselves. We didn't say a word to each other through any other practice or the performance.
But I sat there, feeling dejected. And feeling really, really confused at why I felt dejected. I had no idea who stood for what and who had what policy on what big adult problem I tried not to bother my sixth grader head with. I knew only what I had seen in Saturday Night Live skits with Dana Carvey and Phil Hartman (rest his soul... aw, now I'm sad). I'm pretty sure these girls had no idea except what they heard their parents talk about at the dinner table every night. It wasn't like they weighed the issues and made up their own minds. And there's still the huge glaring fact that none of this should fucking matter to a middle school student who has at least five more years, or more than likely eight, before they can vote.
I was raised under the notion that it wasn't polite to discuss politics in mixed company. My mom would never even tell me who she voted for. She always said you don't tell people. It invites conflict. This was the household I grew up in. She listened to Rush Limbaugh everyday, but I couldn't really make out what point he was trying to make through the sound of loudly rustled papers and throat clearing. So I never really understood what side he was on until I was older and as a kid, it wasn't really my job to care. Knowing what I know now, I can guess how she probably voted. But since I was still so many years off from voting age, I really didn't make it my business to follow politics, as if I could fully understand it anyway. As if these girls could fully understand it.
Their smug laughter at my expense stung just as much as if they had made fun of the way I wore my hair or the music I listened to or the way I talked or something else I thought defined me at the time. And I sat there, distracted for the rest of the night trying to figure out why this bothered me. Really, it was just their tone of false superiority. And that rings true through any sort of bullying. It doesn't really matter what the bully is making fun of you for. That they lord it over you that they have something better is really all that matters, even if it's completely baseless (because it almost always is). Even if you shake it off, there's always this nagging feeling that you should have stood up for yourself instead of falling into the script of the victim. That you should have said something to make them feel stupid for laughing at you. Turned it around on them. I guess Gandhi would be proud that I didn't. And I guess I've learned not to engage idiots in processing this experience. The value of the lesson is not lost on me, but I hate that I had to sit there and squirm like there was something wrong with me because I didn't know, nor did I care, who I would vote for if I were 8 years older.
Now I look back on this and I think about those girls and where they are now and I think about the fact that they probably still don't know who stands for what and still probably haven't weighed the issues that are important to them and made up their own minds. I think they probably haven't because in my jaded outlook, I feel like a frightening majority of voters don't. They watch the news they prefer and narrow their scope to only those with whom they agree, never challenging their outlook. Never forcing themselves to objectively look at something. Always afraid to admit they might be wrong. Most people are constantly backing themselves further into whichever corner they feel the most comfortable.
I see it all the time, adults attacking each other like this. "How can you be so stupid to believe [candidiate]'s lies?!" As if there is such a thing as a politician who doesn't lie or at the very least isn't trying to bend the truth in an attempt to sell you on them and gain your vote. But this is scary. It's one thing for stupid sixth graders to think this way. It's another thing entirely for them to never grow out of it and become voting adults who think this way. It's bothered me now for 21 years. It's a game where no one wins. There's almost never an intelligent debate, even amongst people I know for a fact are extremely intelligent because they're my friends and loved ones and I know they're better than this. But for some reason, it always comes down to lowest common denominator. "You don't agree with me so I'm going to insult your intelligence because the only way you wouldn't agree with me is if you're stupid."
At ten years old, I checked out of the political process forever. I still show up to the polls on election day (or before). But apart from watching The Daily Show and The Colbert Report which both make a living laughing at this ridiculousness, I do not engage in the political process at all. Not even to say, "I've voted!" or "I support [candidate]." Because honestly, I haven't seen a candidate that I can say I support. I'll vote for one. But it comes down to how much I can tolerate them by degrees. I weigh the pros and cons the best I can and I check a box. I don't watch the news. I don't listen to the radio. I look shit up and try to verify it from multiple sources if I can (and if I can't, I throw that entire point out, because if you can't verify it, you shouldn't make a decision based on it). Then, I make a decision in the silent privacy of the voting booth. I mean, if you know me and know what's important to me, you can probably take a guess at who I might vote for. You might be wrong, but you could take a guess. And that doesn't mean that candidate has my support. It just means I think they might focus on what matters to me.
Honestly, I couldn't care less about the presidential election. I really, really don't care about those asshats anymore. I'm over it. I care more about getting a local guy to our State House of Representatives because of the awesome things he's done for our community as a City Council member. I just really can't be bothered by this bickering anymore. And I can't help but ponder the rantings of the tinfoil hat camp that all this is on purpose to keep us fighting each other so we don't notice the bullshit they're pulling while we're not looking. I don't really believe that, but it's hard not to think it sometimes.