(no subject)
A Letter To The People in The Red States
by Susan Schroeder
I am writing this letter to the people in the red states in the middle
of the country -- the people who voted for George W. Bush. I am
writing this letter because I don't think we know each other.
So I'll make an introduction. I am a New Yorker who voted for John
Kerry. I used to live in California, and if I still lived there, I
would vote for Kerry. I used to live in Washington, DC, and if I still
lived there, I would vote for Kerry. Kerry won in all three of those
regions.
Maybe you want to know more about me. Or maybe not; maybe you think
you know me already. You think I am some anti-American anarchist
because I dislike George W. Bush. You think that I am immoral and
anti-family, because I support women's reproductive freedom and gay
rights. You think that I am dangerous, and even evil, because I do
not abide by your religious beliefs.
Maybe you are content to think that, to write me off as a "liberal" --
the dreaded "L" word -- and rejoice that your candidate has triumphed
over evil, immoral, anti-American, anti-family people like me. But
maybe you are still curious. So here goes: this is who I am.
I am a New Yorker. I was here, in my apartment downtown, on September
11th. I watched the Towers burn from the roof of my building. I went
inside so that I couldn't see them when they fell. I had friends who
were inside. I have a friend who still has nightmares about watching
people jump and fall from the Towers. He will never be the same. How
many people like him do you know? People that can't sit in a
restaurant without plotting an escape route, in case it blows up?
I am a worker. I work across the street from the Citigroup Center,
which the government told us is a "target" of terrorism. Later, we
found out they were relaying very old information, but it was already
too late. They had given me bad dreams again. The subway stop near my
office was crowded with bomb-sniffing dogs, policemen in heavy
protective gear, soldiers. Now, every time I enter or exit my office,
all of my possessions are X-rayed to make sure I don't have any
weapons. How often are you stopped by a soldier with a bomb-sniffing
dog outside your office?
I am a neighbor. I have a neighbor who is a 9/11 widow. She has two
children. My husband does odd jobs for her now, like building
bookshelves. Things her husband should do. He uses her husband's
tools, and the two little girls tell him, "Those are our daddy's
tools." How many 9/11 widows and orphans do you know? How often do you
fill in for their dead loved ones?
I am a taxpayer. I worked my butt off to get where I did, and so did
my parents. My parents saved and borrowed and sent me to college. I
worked my way through graduate school. I won a full tuition
scholarship to law school. All for the privilege of working 2,600
hours last year. That works out to a 50 hour week, every week, without
any vacation days at all. I get to work by 9 am and rarely leave
before 9 pm. I eat dinner at my office much more often than I eat
dinner at home. My husband and I paid over $70,000 in federal income
tax last year. At some point in the future, we will have to pay much
more -- once this country faces its deficit and the impossible burden
of Social Security. In fact, the areas of the country that supported
Kerry -- New York, California, Illinois, Massachusetts -- they are the
financial centers of the nation. They are the tax base of this
country. How much did you pay, Kansas? How much did you contribute to
this government you support, Alabama? How much of this war in Iraq did
you pay for?
I am a liberal. The funny part is, liberals have this reputation for
living in Never-Neverland, being idealists, not being sensible. But
let me tell you how I see the world: I see America as one nation in a
world of nations. Therefore, I think we should try to get along with
other nations. I see that gay people exist. Therefore, I think they
should be allowed to exist, and be treated the same as other people. I
see ways in which women are not allowed to control their own bodies.
Therefore, I think we should give women more control over their
bodies. I see that people have awful diseases. Therefore, I think we
should enable scientists to try to cure them. I see that we have a
Constitution. Therefore, I think it should be upheld. I see that there
were no weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. Therefore, I think that
Iraq was not an imminent danger to me. It seems so pragmatic to me.
How do you see the world? Do you really think voting against gay
marriage will keep people from being gay? Would you really prefer
that people continue to die from Parkinson's disease? Do you really
not care about the Constitutional rights of political detainees? Would
you really have supported the war if you knew the truth, or would you
have wanted to spend more of our money on health care, job training,
terrorism preparedness?
I am an American. I have an American flag flying outside my home. I
love my home more than anything. I love that I grew up right outside
New York City. I first went to the Statue of Liberty with my 5th grade
class, and my mom and dad took me to the Empire State Building when I
was 8. I love taking the subway to Yankee Stadium. I loved living in
Washington DC and going on dates to the Lincoln Memorial. It is
because I love this country so much that I argue with my political
opponents as much I do.
I am not safe. I never feel safe. My in-laws live in a small town in
Ohio, and that town has received more federal funding, per capita, for
terrorism preparedness than New York City has. I take subways and
buses every day. I work in a skyscraper across the street from a
"target." I have emergency supplies and a spare pair of sneakers in my
desk, in case somethng happens while I'm at work. Do you? How many
times a month do you worry that your subway is going to blow up? When
you hear sirens on the street, do you run to the window to make sure
everything is okay? When you hear an airplane, do you flinch? Do you
dread beautiful, blue-skied September days? I don't know a single New
Yorker who doesn't spend the month of September on tip-toes,
superstitiously praying for rain so we don't have to relive that
beautiful, blue-skied day.
I am lonely. I feel that we, as a nation, have alienated all our
friends and further provoked our enemies. I feel unprotected. Most of
all I feel alienated from my fellow citizens, because I don't
understand what you are thinking. You voted for a man who started a
war in Iraq for no reason, against the wishes of the entire world. You
voted for a man whose lack of foresight and inability to plan has led
to massive insurgencies in Iraq, where weapons are disappearing into
the hands of terrorists. You voted for a man who let Osama Bin Laden
escape into the hills of Afghanistan so that he could start that war
in Iraq. You voted for a man who doesn't want to let people love who
they want to love; doesn't want to let doctors cure their patients;
doesn't want to let women rule their destinies. I don't understand why
you voted for this man. For me, it is not enough that he is
personable; it is not enough that he seems like one of the guys. Why
did you vote for him? Why did you elect a man that lied to us in order
to convince us to go to war? (Ten years ago you were incensed when our
president lied about his sex life; you thought it was an impeachable
offense.) Why did you elect a leader who thinks that strength cannot
include diplomacy or international cooperation? Why did you elect a
man who did nothing except run away and hide on September 11?
Most of all, I am terrified. I mean daily, I am afraid that I will not
survive this. I am afraid that I will lose my husband, that I will
never have children, that I will never grow old and watch the sunset
in a backyard of my own. I am afraid that my career -- which should
end with a triumphant and good-natured roast at a retirement party in
2035 -- will be cut short by an attack on me and my colleagues, as we
sit sending emails and making phone calls one ordinary afternoon. Is
your life at stake? Are you terrified?
I don't think you are. I don't think you realize what you have done.
And if anything happens to me or the people I love, I blame you. I
wanted you to know that.
Susan Schroeder is an attorney in NY City
by Susan Schroeder
I am writing this letter to the people in the red states in the middle
of the country -- the people who voted for George W. Bush. I am
writing this letter because I don't think we know each other.
So I'll make an introduction. I am a New Yorker who voted for John
Kerry. I used to live in California, and if I still lived there, I
would vote for Kerry. I used to live in Washington, DC, and if I still
lived there, I would vote for Kerry. Kerry won in all three of those
regions.
Maybe you want to know more about me. Or maybe not; maybe you think
you know me already. You think I am some anti-American anarchist
because I dislike George W. Bush. You think that I am immoral and
anti-family, because I support women's reproductive freedom and gay
rights. You think that I am dangerous, and even evil, because I do
not abide by your religious beliefs.
Maybe you are content to think that, to write me off as a "liberal" --
the dreaded "L" word -- and rejoice that your candidate has triumphed
over evil, immoral, anti-American, anti-family people like me. But
maybe you are still curious. So here goes: this is who I am.
I am a New Yorker. I was here, in my apartment downtown, on September
11th. I watched the Towers burn from the roof of my building. I went
inside so that I couldn't see them when they fell. I had friends who
were inside. I have a friend who still has nightmares about watching
people jump and fall from the Towers. He will never be the same. How
many people like him do you know? People that can't sit in a
restaurant without plotting an escape route, in case it blows up?
I am a worker. I work across the street from the Citigroup Center,
which the government told us is a "target" of terrorism. Later, we
found out they were relaying very old information, but it was already
too late. They had given me bad dreams again. The subway stop near my
office was crowded with bomb-sniffing dogs, policemen in heavy
protective gear, soldiers. Now, every time I enter or exit my office,
all of my possessions are X-rayed to make sure I don't have any
weapons. How often are you stopped by a soldier with a bomb-sniffing
dog outside your office?
I am a neighbor. I have a neighbor who is a 9/11 widow. She has two
children. My husband does odd jobs for her now, like building
bookshelves. Things her husband should do. He uses her husband's
tools, and the two little girls tell him, "Those are our daddy's
tools." How many 9/11 widows and orphans do you know? How often do you
fill in for their dead loved ones?
I am a taxpayer. I worked my butt off to get where I did, and so did
my parents. My parents saved and borrowed and sent me to college. I
worked my way through graduate school. I won a full tuition
scholarship to law school. All for the privilege of working 2,600
hours last year. That works out to a 50 hour week, every week, without
any vacation days at all. I get to work by 9 am and rarely leave
before 9 pm. I eat dinner at my office much more often than I eat
dinner at home. My husband and I paid over $70,000 in federal income
tax last year. At some point in the future, we will have to pay much
more -- once this country faces its deficit and the impossible burden
of Social Security. In fact, the areas of the country that supported
Kerry -- New York, California, Illinois, Massachusetts -- they are the
financial centers of the nation. They are the tax base of this
country. How much did you pay, Kansas? How much did you contribute to
this government you support, Alabama? How much of this war in Iraq did
you pay for?
I am a liberal. The funny part is, liberals have this reputation for
living in Never-Neverland, being idealists, not being sensible. But
let me tell you how I see the world: I see America as one nation in a
world of nations. Therefore, I think we should try to get along with
other nations. I see that gay people exist. Therefore, I think they
should be allowed to exist, and be treated the same as other people. I
see ways in which women are not allowed to control their own bodies.
Therefore, I think we should give women more control over their
bodies. I see that people have awful diseases. Therefore, I think we
should enable scientists to try to cure them. I see that we have a
Constitution. Therefore, I think it should be upheld. I see that there
were no weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. Therefore, I think that
Iraq was not an imminent danger to me. It seems so pragmatic to me.
How do you see the world? Do you really think voting against gay
marriage will keep people from being gay? Would you really prefer
that people continue to die from Parkinson's disease? Do you really
not care about the Constitutional rights of political detainees? Would
you really have supported the war if you knew the truth, or would you
have wanted to spend more of our money on health care, job training,
terrorism preparedness?
I am an American. I have an American flag flying outside my home. I
love my home more than anything. I love that I grew up right outside
New York City. I first went to the Statue of Liberty with my 5th grade
class, and my mom and dad took me to the Empire State Building when I
was 8. I love taking the subway to Yankee Stadium. I loved living in
Washington DC and going on dates to the Lincoln Memorial. It is
because I love this country so much that I argue with my political
opponents as much I do.
I am not safe. I never feel safe. My in-laws live in a small town in
Ohio, and that town has received more federal funding, per capita, for
terrorism preparedness than New York City has. I take subways and
buses every day. I work in a skyscraper across the street from a
"target." I have emergency supplies and a spare pair of sneakers in my
desk, in case somethng happens while I'm at work. Do you? How many
times a month do you worry that your subway is going to blow up? When
you hear sirens on the street, do you run to the window to make sure
everything is okay? When you hear an airplane, do you flinch? Do you
dread beautiful, blue-skied September days? I don't know a single New
Yorker who doesn't spend the month of September on tip-toes,
superstitiously praying for rain so we don't have to relive that
beautiful, blue-skied day.
I am lonely. I feel that we, as a nation, have alienated all our
friends and further provoked our enemies. I feel unprotected. Most of
all I feel alienated from my fellow citizens, because I don't
understand what you are thinking. You voted for a man who started a
war in Iraq for no reason, against the wishes of the entire world. You
voted for a man whose lack of foresight and inability to plan has led
to massive insurgencies in Iraq, where weapons are disappearing into
the hands of terrorists. You voted for a man who let Osama Bin Laden
escape into the hills of Afghanistan so that he could start that war
in Iraq. You voted for a man who doesn't want to let people love who
they want to love; doesn't want to let doctors cure their patients;
doesn't want to let women rule their destinies. I don't understand why
you voted for this man. For me, it is not enough that he is
personable; it is not enough that he seems like one of the guys. Why
did you vote for him? Why did you elect a man that lied to us in order
to convince us to go to war? (Ten years ago you were incensed when our
president lied about his sex life; you thought it was an impeachable
offense.) Why did you elect a leader who thinks that strength cannot
include diplomacy or international cooperation? Why did you elect a
man who did nothing except run away and hide on September 11?
Most of all, I am terrified. I mean daily, I am afraid that I will not
survive this. I am afraid that I will lose my husband, that I will
never have children, that I will never grow old and watch the sunset
in a backyard of my own. I am afraid that my career -- which should
end with a triumphant and good-natured roast at a retirement party in
2035 -- will be cut short by an attack on me and my colleagues, as we
sit sending emails and making phone calls one ordinary afternoon. Is
your life at stake? Are you terrified?
I don't think you are. I don't think you realize what you have done.
And if anything happens to me or the people I love, I blame you. I
wanted you to know that.
Susan Schroeder is an attorney in NY City