Sunday, October 31, 2010

Day 304- Halloween

Dear Mr. President,

Tonight my neighborhood is alive with revelers. Halloween on Capitol Hill is more exciting than Christmas, and really any other celebration (except perhaps Block Party or Pride.) In a neighborhood where no one needs an excuse to wear costumes, All Hallow's Eve is on opportunity to pull out all the stops. And while some might disapprove of the troops of wildly dressed, raucous partiers, I think the festivity is uplifting. Even the increasingly skimpy costumes favored by the women of my generation, which I used to decry as anti-feminist and degrading, seem like harmless fun. After all, what better night could there be than this to celebrate the very thing that has terrified so many for all of human history, that plays villain in most major religions, the horror of a woman's unabashed sexuality? (And, to be fair, I know more than a few men giving sexy little dresses a try this year.)

While my roommate and I watch a marathon of creepy movies and I drink the first cup of coffee I've had all week in preparation for the inevitable all-night paper-writing session I have ahead, the shouts of a neighborhood somewhat drunkenly celebrating don't seem taunting or annoying, but rather festive. Our little black cat is curled up at my feet and our apartment is still covered in decorative cobwebs, carved pumpkins, and flickering candles. Small children are running around dressed as ghouls and tea party candidates gobbling all the waxy chocolate and high-fructose corn syrup they can stand. The busses are filled with Mad Hatters and Fantastic Foxes and every imaginable kind of zombie. No talking head is complaining about the lack of tradition or the over-commercialization of the day, warning us of a "war on Halloween." Halloween's great sacrement is to hold nothing sacred; to celebrate the depraved, the frivolous, the ugly.

It is cold but, for Seattle, an October day as dry and clear and full of bright fall leaves as this one is a rare treat. I spent more Halloweens soggily trick-or-treating under an umbrella than I care to remember, and I'm glad to know that this year local children will be spared our usual deluge. I should get to work on my midterm papers and stop musing about this lovely, spooky holiday I hope I'm never too old to appreciate. Happy Halloween.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Day 303-Love and Sanity

Dear Mr. President,

250,000 people showed up to restore sanity in Washington DC. In Seattle, and in cities around the world, satellite rallies were held by those who couldn't make the trip to DC. I don't know if this speaks to the mood of the country or merely to the size of Jon Stewart's fan base, but it certainly lifted my spirits. I feel like, no matter the differences between my views and each of theirs, the people at those rallies are my kind of people. It's nice to know we're not nearly as alone as many of us feel.

Sanity has probably been my number one goal in life for the last year or so. I spent so much of my life feeling like I was at the whim of my impossible to predict emotions and the equally confusing way others treated me. For me this has meant avoiding intense romantic relationships. Being in love has only brought out the worst in me. Witnessing the way it has had similar destructive effects on family members and friends hadn't done much to convince me otherwise. This year, as I've worked to figure out what it is I want from the people in my life, I've started to realize how much my political passions have always played a role in grounding me. When I was going through one of the more difficult break-ups of my life, campaigning for you helped keep me sane because it kept my life in a much more reasonable perspective. Once the campaign was over, I felt completely lost and, not surprisingly, basically lost my mind. Getting back to that sense of perspective through this project has been amazingly good for me. One of the best parts of this blog has been the way it has helped me find the people in my life who value me for my political passions and who support me even when they don't agree with me. And, as I begin to define what is important to me and what is important about me, I've begun to notice more and more examples of healthy relationships among my friends. Watching one couple today, who act like their remarkable affection and respect for one another is the most normal thing in the world (much to my unending puzzlement) I even began to imagine I might one day find that for myself. It makes me think that perhaps my cynicism came not from observation and experience, but was itself shaping my perceptions in order to reaffirm a belief I'd already held.

I think many liberals feel like we're constantly surrounded by crazy people. I feel like this rally offered an opportunity for many of us to realize we're not alone, that our outsider status was a product of our own cynicism and not a reflection of reality. We're not at odds with the rest of the country; we are the majority. The majority of this country is pro-choice, pro-gay rights, pro-reasonable regulation, taxation, and social services. There is more that unites us then divides us. The system frustrates us, the corruption and stagnation that prevent our country from fulfilling its promise and potential for good. I think that being told we're not the crazy ones will be helpful and inspiring to many on the left who have struggled for years to understand our place in a national discourse dictated by FOX news. If no greater good comes from today's rally than the reassurance that we're not outsiders, that we have a place at the table, well, I think it was probably worth inconveniencing really all of Washington DC for a day or so. Who knows, if I had managed to make it to DC, I might even have found myself a boyfriend.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Friday, October 29, 2010

Day 302- Emotional and academic

Dear Mr. President,

A few days ago my class was visited by an Israeli guest lecturer. I tried to go in with an open mind, especially because I knew the professor places a huge importance on human rights and is sympathetic to the Palestinian struggle for self-determination. Throughout the lecture, I found myself getting angrier and angrier. His attempts at objectivity were so obviously colored with the comfortable, academic detachment that I find so frustrating. Reducing events and issues that represent tangible suffering, blood, death and disenfranchisement to abstractions might lead to calmer discourse, but it doesn't do justice to the people not lucky enough to pretend it's all just an academic exercise. At the end of the lecture, he opened it up for questions and was gracious, if a bit dismissive, about my views on the unsettling rise of the radical Israeli right wing.

I fully admit that, for all of my academic energies devoted to Palestinian issues, I have a much deeper and much more immediate emotional reaction. I don't apologize for or regret this; witnessing injustice against real people is an emotional and not an academic experience. But I also recognize that my emotional reactions may not be as useful to those who are struggling with that injustice as some one else's more detached and rational response. It makes it difficult for me to listen to people like this professor make statements about his optimism for the peace process, so long as people let go of the "irrational" idea of a right of return. I've been to Dheisheh refugee camp and seen the way that refugee status still affects the day to day lives of my friends who grew up there. The idea that they have no claim to the homes their ancestors were forced out of, that their future aspirations can be swept aside and dismissed as irrational gives me a visceral reaction to the callousness of this detachment.

I also have to constantly question my role in all of this. Can I help, at all? I have to question how much of my desire to work in Palestine is fulfilling a selfish need to belong and feel useful, and how much is actually a desire to be part of the solution, an honest desire to fight injustice. Do I have the skills necessary? Is it enough just to bear witness, or do I have a responsibility to do more? I ask myself these things every day, as I discuss, explain, argue or learn more. And I don't have any answers; continuing the peace talks without a settlement freeze seems like political suicide for Abbas. A unilateral bid for recognition from the UN seems like it would lead to war. Discussing a one-state solution is tantamount to anti-semitism in modern American discourse, and even mentioning the role that Hamas might play in the peace process is enough to undermine one's credibility with so-called moderates from Israel and America.

I can't discuss these options without thinking about the tangible, personal way they will affect Palestinian people. Maybe that makes me a poor academic. I think that losing sight of the human cost of political decisions costs us our humanity, and I would rather keep mine than perfect a more dispassionate debate style. I think that the academic and political spheres need more compassion and more empathy, not less. Even if it makes certain lectures more difficult to sit through, and certain articles more difficult to read. That difficulty is nothing compared to the struggle of actually living with the bleak reality of the facts on the ground. You're well-known for your calm, cool approach to heated situations. I appreciate this about you, even if it at times frustrates me. I'm certain that, no matter how cool your exterior reactions may seem, these issues must affect you on an emotional level as well. Do you feel like the sheer number of problems around the world, the overwhelming amount of suffering causes you to become desensitized to it all? Or do you keep your emotions in check in order to keep every one else calmer?

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Day 301- Undecided

Dear Mr. President,

Tonight Rasmussen released another poll showing Dino Rossi pulling ahead. I'm pretty much in a state of panic, even as I continue to console myself with the frequent inaccuracy of Rasmussen's polls. Paul Krugman's Op-ed isn't making me much calmer. I'm terrified of the results we'll find on election day, and even more so of the resulting legislative agenda. Keith Olbermann's recent comment on the Tea Party articulated the fears that many of us on the left are experiencing this year.

But polls and pundit comments aside, this midterm should have people scared. Every election, about this time, I start marveling at the very idea of undecided voters. I feel so strongly about politics that I can't even date Republicans; and I may not be able to stand them, but I at least respect the passion that I see in my friends on the right. It is undecided voters, swing voters, people who seem to change their entire value system (or not understand how that value system is represented by their vote) every 2-4 years who confuse me. It baffles me. How can a voter who clearly understood the problems with the Bush administration (and the candidates who wanted to continue them) just two years ago suddenly be confused about who to vote for? It seems to me that the center has long been controlled by the most willfully disengaged, and the fact that they're the ones who get to decide so many elections frustrates me to no end.

I don't think that congressional Democrats are entirely blameless. Between the cowardly ones who are now running away from the party's agenda in their ads, and the cowardly ones who never had the guts to defend that agenda in the first place, it is really difficult to see why Democrats are a viable alternative to the bad ideas of Republicans. While I don't think that a disillusionment with Democrats justifies a vote for Republicans, unfortunately the two-party system (and the increasing similarity in the way the parties take money from corporations) leaves many voters feeling that this is the best solution.

Personally, I've been proud to be a Democrat lately. Watching you and Senator Murray and Governor Gregoire speak, meeting President Carter, watching you make such a compelling case for your administration's accomplishments on The Daily Show last night, all of it has restored the pride I thought I'd lost in my party. I hope that the predictions and the polls are wrong. I hope that Democrats get two more years to prove that we're not completely spineless. Because, as much as they confuse me, we're probably going to need those undecided voters in 2012.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Day 300- 2 Presidents



Dear Mr. President,

Tonight Jimmy Carter came to my bookstore to sign his latest book. The excitement I felt at your visit last week probably can't be matched, but this came pretty close. It was an honor to have President Carter, of course, and worth every inconvenience that comes with secret service protection. Of course, (and I'm sure you're used to this by now) any high-profile visitor tends to draw out the craziest and most desperate people in the area. Tonight was no exception. One woman brought a 17-page letter and followed a Secret Service agent out to his car asking if the President would really read it. I won't lie- it was hard not to see a little of myself in her. I may never have written you a 17 page letter or hounded you (or your agents) in person, but I can empathize with that desire to be heard.

So now I've seen two Presidents in one week. The purpose of the events were vastly different, of course. You came to get out the vote, President Carter came to sell books. It would be unfair to compare the two events, of course. Still, for some one who observes the Presidency from such a distance, it was a thrill just to be in the same room. I really hope that I don't seem as crazy as that lady at my store tonight; I'm sure that she had valid reasons for her letter and her persistence, even if her tactics were probably not the most reasonable.

And with that, I think that I'm going to try and get some sleep before class. It has been an exhausting week, for all of its thrills.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey


PS- Readers! Check out President Obama's interview on The Daily Show ! Sorry my last two letters have been a bit on the short side, I should be back to normal by tomorrow.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Day 299- I-1098

Dear Mr. President,

Tomorrow I'm going to see President Jimmy Carter. While I assume that it will involve less screaming and cheering and sleeping on the ground than your rally here last week, I'm going to be prepared, all the same. Tonight my mother dropped off my ballot. Aside from voting to re-elect Patty Murray and Jay Inslee, Washington voters are facing a number of important initiatives. I-1098, a proposal sponsored by Bill Gates, Sr., proposes a state income tax on those making more than $200,000 a year. Since I make about $20,000 a year, you can imagine I'm pretty enthusiastic about this.

Washington State has the dubious distinction of having the single most regressive tax system in the country. While those making under $20k pay on average 17.3% of their income in taxes while the richest 1%- those making more than $537k, pay just 2.9%. I-1098 will work to improve this discrepancy and provide the state with much-needed revenue. I think, also, that there is a moral obligation for those who have money to help out those who do not. Call me socialist, call me a class warrior, call me whatever you will, but if I made $200k instead of $20, I would have no problem paying the taxes to make sure the roads, schools, police and other state services are fully funded. We are all served by these institutions, and holding on to the cold comfort of private wealth in the face of so many others struggling just to get by strikes me as the worst kind of callousness. (Washington State readers of my blog- please vote yes on 1098.)

I'm going to cut this letter short so that I can finish voting and get to bed. Thank you, again, for coming to Washington to help get progressive voters to the polls. For a reliably blue state, we're struggling this year to pass the measures and elect the candidates that our state will need. Thank you, sir.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

PS

All readers: If you have your ballot, fill it out and mail it in! If you live in a state without early or mail-in voting, please make a plan today for how you will vote on election day. Yay for voting!

Monday, October 25, 2010

Day 298- Guilty and not guilty

Dear Mr. President,

Omar Khadr pled guilty today. I understand that this plea bargain is his best hope for getting out of Guantanamo Bay and going back home to Canada, but it is still heartbreaking to think about the punishment he will face. You know Khadr's story. I do not need to tell you that he was 15, just three years older than Malia, when he threw a grenade that killed a US soldier. I do not need to tell you that he acted as instructed by his father and the other adults in his life. I do not need to tell you that he was seriously wounded, detained, tortured, and threatened with rape to compel his confession. I don't think I would need to see so many parallels between my own life and Khadr's to be horrified at the way my country has treated him, but while reading about his case I could not help but notice something about the day he was captured.

On July 27th as the 15-year old Khadr was shot, blinded in one eye, and taken in to US custody, I was in a cemetery. Right around noon, before it was late enough to really be called hot, a pickup truck came to a stop on the path near the grave I sat beside. A man I had never seen before got out, and walked over to where I sat. In one hand he had a small handful of vegetables from his garden, I think that they were radishes. He laid them at the gravestone and mumbled something to me about how they had been his nephew's favorite. His nephew, dead more than six months, would have been seventeen that day. I remember there was no accusation in his voice, only sadness. Looking back, I am sure he felt as responsible as I did that Josh would not be celebrating that day, that those of us in his life who were supposed to care for him had failed. I could not, in my own grief, conceive of what was then happening in Ayub Kheyl, Afghanistan.

Omar and I are both 24 now. While the last eight years of his life have been the stuff of nightmares, mine has been fairly average. Perhaps it is our age that makes me wonder so intensely at the very different courses our lives have taken, or the lingering idea that we are both, to varying degrees, responsible for the loss of a life. But I cannot imagine the darkness of his existence, the suffering, the confusion, the fear. I can't begin to put myself in his place. I am no stranger to the harsh reality that there are many my age who are suffering, who have led difficult lives and who will face obstacles and tragedies that I am exempt from because I was born in a place of relative privilege. Is it childlike, then, to wish that Omar had gotten to graduate high school, go to college, to have all of the opportunities I have? To fear that, if he is to spend the rest of his life suffering in payment for his worst mistakes as a fifteen year old child, then I must, as well?

If it is my empathy that disinclines me to believe the charges against Khadr are valid even after he confesses to them, I can accept that. Even if I am entirely wrong, even if Khadr is guilty of every single crime for which he has been accused, I still do not believe that he has been treated fairly or in a manner worthy of the American justice system. While I have no shortage of sympathy and compassion for the soldiers injured by Khadr or the family of the soldier killed, I do not believe that their suffering is eased, or that others like them are made safer, by the harsh treatment suffered by the child responsible. I think we are all just a little guiltier today as we stand by and allow atrocities like this one to continue in our name.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Day 297- Israel and the rest of the world

Dear Mr. President,

Eric Cantor has proposed separating US aid to Israel from the rest of the foreign ops budget. Israel already receives an obscene amount of aid, especially in comparison to the rest of the world, and Cantor's proposal is clearly an attempt to safeguard that funding while Republicans seek to cut or abolish aid to other countries all together. Funding a wealthy country's brutal occupation (and insulating the taxpayers of Israel from the true costs of their government's policies) is clearly a high enough priority that Cantor and other Republicans have realized they can't go after foreign aid without safeguarding Israeli aid.

Your administration has already promised $3 billion a year to Israel in aid- a decision I have objected to often enough to accept that we're never going to see eye to eye. However, I believe that you, like me, want to see the aid we send to other countries for agriculture, infrastructure, health and education projects increased, or, at the very least, maintained. If Cantor is successful at disentangling the Israeli aid from the rest of the foreign ops budget there will be nothing to stop Republicans who would see it cut. Foreign aid represents about 1% of our budget and places us well below most developed nations in terms of the amount spent as a percentage of GDP. Jeopardizing this funding further by distancing it from the most politically acceptable segment of our foreign ops budget will not improve America's image abroad, it won't help us to reach the millenium development goals and it absolutely will not make American's safer. As much as it disgusts me to admit this, the stigma against backing off on our support for Israel does help protect the rest of the foreign ops budget. And while I have no problem admitting that I would be happy to see our aid to Israel reduced and even outright suspended, I do not wish to see the rest of the foreign aid money affected.

I think that there are a number of improvements that might be made to the amount of money we spend on projects abroad, and the way that money is spent. Given that my own views are so far outside of the mainstream, I don't expect, realistically, to ever see them in practice. And so expediency compels me to compromise. If we must continue spending $3 billion a year funding Israel's oppression of the Palestinians, we should at least also continue funding the education, infrastructure and health projects in developing countries around the world, as well. Dividing the appropriations imperils the funds that would go to nations unable to lobby congress as effectively as Israel. I hope that you do all you can to see that Cantor's proposal does not go into effect.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Day 296-Wikileaks (again)

Dear Mr. President,

As the revelations from the latest documents released by Wikileaks continue to come to light, I am having a difficult time feeling surprised. I have to say that the outrage and shock being feigned in the mainstream media upsets me, deeply. It is indisputable that the Iraq war has been waged with unprecedented levels of secrecy. The Bush administration went out of its way to hide the truth behind record levels of private contractors, sweeping new executive powers, and an outright refusal to discuss the Iraqi death toll. What, exactly, did every one think they were hiding? Unicorns, perhaps? A modern President (and I am by no means excluding you from this indictment) doesn't keep secrets unless they are damaging. All of this secrecy was achieved with the tacit approval of the media. There is no way that I, an amateur observer, could have surmised these human rights violations and outright war crimes could have been perpetrated while the mainstream media had no idea. The evidence has been out there all along, and the fact that it took this long to come to wider attention is a shameful reflection of the sorry state of the American news media.

I don't believe that war can be waged without these kinds of abuses and atrocities. This doesn't excuse them; it only, to my mind, demands that we not wage war unnecessarily. The Iraq war was absolutely unnecessary. So while Americans recoil in horror at 104,000 dead, millions displaced and hundreds if not thousands of tortured, mistreated prisoners, I can only sit back and wonder what else they possibly could have expected? In 2003 while our President skipped off toward Baghdad the media and the majority of America stayed silent. The blood and the death and the suffering that ensued came as a direct result of that silence. This country has lost the right to feel surprised when it comes to the crimes of the Bush administration.

Meanwhile, you, Mr. President, have lost the right to lay the blame solely at President Bush's feet. Had our government conducted itself the way we have every right to expect that it should, or had the media investigated and reported with anything resembling a commitment to the truth, Wikileaks would likely not exist. If you want to be angry about this latest release of documents, I suppose that is your prerogative, but the real tragedies in this are the crimes committed and largely ignored, not the fact that some one finally had the courage to bring them to light.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Friday, October 22, 2010

Day 295- It gets better

Dear Mr President,

After I wrote you yesterday I saw the video you posted for the It Gets Better project. I thought it was sincere and very moving. The IGB project is close to my heart because it was founded by Dan Savage, who lives in my neighborhood and, despite his national celebrity, reamins active in and committed to the Seattle community. I've seen IGB videos from close friends and coworkers, beloved celebrities, complete strangers, and now the President of the United States. In a world where I often feel helpless and even hopeless about so many things, succumbing to the belief that there is nothing I or any one else could do to ever make it better, the IGB project feels refreshingly practical. It is a tangible way that any one who has struggled and overcome can reach out and speak to young people struggling now. I can't change the cruelty that children will face from bullies, or from our society, and maybe none of us can, as individuals. But that so many people took the time to put themselves out there, to reach out to people they may never know is truly inspiring.

I am sure there are kids out there who will see these videos and will find strength in the support of those who made them. As a teen who struggled with depression, and as a person who knows what it is to lose some one to suicide, I am so grateful to you for putting the weight of the Presidency behind this important project. Thank you so much. There will always be problems that are too complicated to fix, issues that are too complex to have an absolute right. This is not one of them.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Day 294- Six more years

Dear Mr. President,

My throat hurts and I haven't slept for more than fifteen minutes in a row in almost two days. At 4:30 this morning my friend Casi and I boarded a city bus toward the U-district and gleefully informed the driver we were going to see the President. He laughed and told every passenger that he picked up after us that we'd be the first girls in line.

We were not the first in line. Defying cold and campus security, several dozen others were already waiting when we arrived. We huddled together and tried to sleep on the cold sidewalk but we were shivering too hard. We talked to one another, to the strangers ahead of us and behind us in line, about the rules, about the cold, about nothing coherent at all. We became B-roll. We were joined by other friends, we waited in the only open cafe for warm drinks paid for and abandoned before we could drink them when, unexpectedly, the line began to move forward. We waited longer, bemoaning the lost beverages and looking enviously at the the red-ticketed VIP line and, yes, even the ADA line. It was cold. We were tired. We had driven all night long to get back in time.

FInally the line moved inside. By the thousands we came inside, to the heat, to the light, to the comfortable seats. Volunteers herded us, heedless of our desire to sit together, asking only "can you stand for 4 hours?" We exchanged looks. On a good day? No problem. On no sleep in aching feet and still shivering? We took our seats in the stands, happy to settle in an unobstructed view of the podium. I folded myself in half, curling into a stadium seat to try and sleep a few more minutes. No such luck. The choice between making the whole exhausted row stand up to leave through the non-VIP exit to the bathroom or arguing with the indignant volunteers at the VIP door seemed hard at first, and then, no choice at all. A gospel choir took the task of warming up the cold, exhausted crowd. God Bless America. Beautiful words and voices made up for my usual discomfort with religion. We sang, we started the wave and the enthusiasm rolled around the crowd for more laps than any baseball game.

On stage, a series of successively more powerful leaders took to the podium and said the same things. Excessive references to Husky football victories (stretching back decades to justify the pluralization) made me wonder if Congressman Inslee believes college kids think of the whole world as a football game or if he does. Gradually, our governor and senior senator restored the gravitas we expected, reminding us how far women in our country have come and how well women in our state have done by comparison. The secret service took the stage to check the podium, their earpieces identical to the one I wear for work. We knew what came next.

My voice was already sore, but you took the stage and we didn't stop screaming for seven minutes. I've never been in the same room as the a President, before, and there you were, walking across the stage with Senator Murray's head bobbing just below your shoulder despite the help of 3-inch heels. I have written you every day for 293 days and, though you do not know that one of the fifteen-thousand voices is mine, I believe that when you look my way and wave, you see me. Every one in the auditorium believes that they are seen. You are seeing one shimmering swell of enthusiasm that will bridge any gap. It does not matter that we waited in the cold, or that attendance meant skipping the third day of classes in a row for some of us (classes we can by no means afford to miss; the price of free admission.) We are points of light too small for you to perceive the distances between us, the gaps that define us and make us individual bulbs. We are one bright shine, a stadium full of sound and waiving hands and the consuming emotion of the moment.

They said we can't elect a black man with a funny name. You shouted.

Oh, yes, we can. We shouted back.

And we kept our feet, we kept our voices raised and our hands clapping until my palms were purple and my throat was raw with the damage of sheer sound. Cameras flashed, hands of the lucky red-ticketed VIP were shaken, and, delirious with joy, I wanted to hug Reggie as he collected letters and gifts of goodwill. Elated, we tumble outside, a crowd no longer, and walk home, walking that path from the University to Capitol Hill, the same streets we flooded on election night two years ago, the same joy, the same calls from neighbors and perfect strangers asking for our account of your words.

A shift at work later, still sleepless, I am sobered by exhaustion and the return to my routine. Check in on my secret-service earpiece with the rest of the team. Blend in. Be quiet. Look for thieves. One foot in front of the other; tech center, fiction, main floor, basement. Repeat another staircase with the help of another Americano. It hurts to speak. It hurts to breathe. I have barely slept, I have homework due in less than 12 hours, and I can't afford to miss another class all quarter long. Casi has another 100-mile drive home.

And all we can keep saying to each other, to any one who asks, to ourselves is the same thing; it was worth it. I'd do it again. Let's do it tomorrow. Tangle traffic on Montlake and bring the commute to a halt. Re-assemble the metal detectors and get the secret service dogs back on their leads. I would do it all over again, to hear you speak. Even just to hear, again, the same old car metaphor, with the ditch and the mud and the keys. When you want to go forward, you put it in D.

I might be crazy and half-dead with joy and exhaustion, but you will have my ballot and you will have my vote and if I can help it, you and Senator Murray will have six more years and Seattle will have more happy floods in the streets.

Six more years sounds great to me.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Day 293- Hypothetical questions

Dear Mr. President,

You're speaking at my school tomorrow. I don't think you'll be taking any questions from the audience, and, if you are, it is unlikely that I'll be lucky enough to ask one. Still, I thought it might be useful to pose a few, even if they are about as practical as shouting into the darkness and waiting for a response more coherent than another spinning echo.

Mr. President, you say that the Republican partisan minority is holding up the legislative process through the filibuster, when not a single filibuster has been staged during the legislative session. Why have you not directed Democratic leadership to force the Republicans to follow through on their threats and given the American people a clear demonstration of who is responsible for the hold ups?

Mr. President, your political opponents seem determined to paint you as anti-Israeli no matter what you do. If nothing will please them, why not take an actual stand against the brutality and injustice perpetrated by the Netanyahu government? You could increase our credibility as an honest broker in the peace talks and make a stand against human right violations, a seeming win-win, considering the political capital is going to be spent either way. So why not change the tactic that hasn't worked for any past American President trying to help create peace?

Mr. President, you've made the convincing argument that allowing Republican's control of the legislative branch will return our country to the disastrous policies of the bush era. While this "lesser of two evils" tactic might convince a few independents, why have you risked alienating the liberal base of the democratic party by dismissing our legitimate complaints about policy compromises that represent real hardship for real people as "griping and groaning"?

Mr. President, when Republicans lost control of congress and the White House in 2006 and 2008, the party soul-searching that followed led to a dramatic return to the angriest voices of their far-right base, the Tea Party. If liberal Democrats want our elected officials to stand up for our beliefs and interests, will it take the same kind of losses in November and in 2012?

Mr. President, the wars in Iraq, (in all but name,) and Afghanistan continue. Guantanamo bay remains open. How can America lead the world toward peace and a greater respect for human rights while we continue these immoral (and, I would argue, strategically failed) efforts?

Mr. President, at a town hall meeting not long ago, you were told by a woman that she was tired of trying to defend you to those who had lost their faith in you. I, too, am tired of being disappointed and tired of being ignored. I believe that your job is more difficult than any one in this room can possibly fathom, and I am certain you are even more tired and even less prone to complain about it. I will continue defending you, sir, I have not lost my faith. Thank you for all that you've done for our country, and please, don't confuse my constant (and continuing) criticism of your policy for cynicism, apathy, or betrayal. I still have hope that you can do better, that you have the right idea, and that you need a supportive, open-minded and informed electorate. So I guess I don't have a questions as much as I want to say that as disappointed as I am in you, I'm way more disappointed in the rest of us.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Day 292- Superheroes and soup

Dear Mr. President,

Growing up I often wished I could be Catwoman. The fact that she's kind of a villain never bothered me. She was a cat. That was cool enough. I'm still mad that my mother wouldn't let me go see Bat,am Returns. (Never mind that I was 6 at the time and probably would have had nightmares. Totally irrelevant. That's right, mom, I know you're reading this.) I certainly can't claim the same level of childhood fascination with superhero mythology that most of my friends can, but I have a healthy enough appreciation for the world of superheroes that I was pleased to see the Islamic world is sending us 99 more. I was even happier to see you recognize this effort to present an alternative face of Islam to youth of this country and, perhaps just as importantly, to Islamic youth.

Predictably, the racist, bigoted radical right has problems with this. Lots of problems. Hilarious amounts of problems. So many problems that Muslim superheroes are now a bigger threat than Campbell's soup. Can Pam Geller, Robert Spencer and all of their ilk just give up the charade and admit that they don't like Islam in any form? Because superheroes and soup are pretty harmless things to start with, and making them halal isn't going to lead to the Islamic Republic of America. My favorite quote of all this hysteria is from Carol A Taber, president of Family Security Matters who says
It was Vladimir Lenin, the founder of the Bolshevik party, who said, "Give me four years to teach the children and the seed I have sown will never be uprooted." The election of our dhimmi president guaranteed the forces of radical Islam at least four years to sow their seeds


Hilarious. The level of backlash to these 99 superheroes (each named for one of the 99 attributes of God,) and the dogged insistance by the right that you are advancing a radical Islamic agenda would be funnier if it wasn't so catching among voters of a certain political persuasion. Because people who believe that you're helping the terrorists or that you're a secret Muslim or that Campbell's soup supports Hamas and the Muslim Brotherhood unfortunately are just as good (and sometimes better) at making it to the polls on election day as those of us who know this is all absurd, and that is frightening. I don't know how to change their minds, I don't know how to talk to them, I don't know what the answer is for dealing with people like that. I like to think charitably, that every one is generally reasonable and good and trying to do the right thing. And then I read the news.

How do you maintain your faith in the American people when faced with the overwhelming influence of people like Taber and Geller and Spencer and Beck? Have you kept that faith intact these last two years?

If you have, I think the only rational explanation is that you must have some kind of superpower yourself.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Monday, October 18, 2010

Day 291- $423

Dear Mr. President,

I just read an article on the cost of retail theft- which is, apparently, down in 2010 from 2009- and averages out to about $423 per family. This kind of makes me feel pretty awesome, not because I enjoy paying more for things because of thieves, but because I like to think I play a tiny, tiny part in making that number smaller. Especially recently. For the first few months working at my new job, I felt almost entirely useless. In the last few weeks, however, I've had some success and, with a lot of help from my coworkers, finally feel like I'm making some progress. I suppose every one just wants to feel like the work they do serves some purpose. I don't imagine I'm unique in getting a thrill at seeing my profession mentioned on CNN, or that the work we do is on par with the work of real law enforcement, but it is nice to know that we make a difference, too.

The comments posted on the article are sort of amusing. Plenty of angry commenters suggest that, in this economic climate, theft is a sane and rational response. I've encountered this mentality before, especially while working for a large corporate bookstore. Stealing from businesses (seen as wealthy) is OK, because they can afford the loss. I hear it still from thieves who shoplift while also making a purchase, citing their perception of the inflated prices as justification. (Pointing out that theft causes price inflation doesn't often have much persuasive effect in these casses.)

This bizarre rationale always makes me angry. It isn't corporate CEO's who are getting shoved, struck and even stabbed by the more violent shoplifters, it's me, my coworkers and people like us who are probably just as poor (or even more so) than many of the shoplifters. If there is one thing my job has taught me it is that everyone steals. Rich, poor, middle class. Black, white, or any color. College kids, housewives, the homeless, spoiled children looking for a thrill. Everyone steals. And, as this article illustrates, the people who pay the price for this theft are not the companies being stolen from but the consumers who pay higher prices as a result.

I feel like this mentality is reflected in the arguments against social services and, recently, health care reform. People don't seem to understand that the cost of crime and illness and suffering is passed on to all of us, one way or another. When I go to work everyday, I'm not thinking about serving any higher purpose, either. It's enough to me to enjoy what I do and to try to be decent at it. The fact that I'm also trying to save consumers more than $400 a year just kind of makes my job a little more interesting.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Day 290- Monsters

Dear Mr. President:

This is Maurice Clemmons:



This is the flukeman monster from the x-files:



This is what any one picking up a copy of the Sunday Seattle Times saw today:



I've written to you about Clemmons before. He committed robbery and assault, raped children and eventually murdered four police officers as they drank coffee. Clemmons is exactly the kind of monster I used to worry about as a small child when my father would get called in the middle of the night to a homicide, or when my mother was out on patrol. He's the kind of man whose madness and brutality and desire to dominate made him violent, erratic and dangerous. But now that I'm grown up and dealing with dangerous people in my own job, I don't believe in monsters. I couldn't grow up in the law enforcement community the way I did and not have an intense, emotional reaction to a cop killer and his disturbing history. But he's no creature, no phantom, he is just a man.

The illustration on the front page of today's Times left me feeling strangely all day. I don't feel sympathy or sadness for Clemmons, I don't want to make excuses for his life or his crimes, I don't want to defend or apologize for him. But I don't like the visual implication that he was sub-human. For one thing, I don't think that the Times would have chosen to illustrate him in such a disturbing way if Clemmons had been white. Mostly, I don't like the editorial decision by the Times to use an illustration rather than his photo. Clemmons wasn't a villain out of a comic book or horror story. He was a man. A terrible, frightening, disturbed man who needs no additional hype to haunt my nightmares. I think the media's inclination toward sensationalism creates the false sense that these dangerous people can be identified on sight. That we will know monsters by their look, or that that they cannot walk among us unnoticed.

This is not, of course, limited to the Seattle Times or to Maurice Clemmons. We make monsters out of our enemies every day, and we've done it throughout history. We comfort ourselves with the idea that you can't understand why some one would become a suicide bomber, that terrorists and killers are just mindless monsters. Maybe this helps some people distance themselves from the terrifying truth that each of us has something in common with those people that we fear. Helps people believe that good people look one way and bad people look another. I don't think that this is a useful lie to tell ourselves. I don't believe that we are safer this way.

Maurice Clemmons is dead. He met his end trying to kill another police officer, and I am not sorry for it. And the Times may well sell more papers (and, apparently, books) attempting to frighten people with this image of Clemmons as a monster, but I will not buy in to the notion that he or any killer is somehow a different creature than me, or than any one of us. The truth is, humans are far more frightening than any monster we can imagine and we will never be able to keep ourselves completely safe from the darkness that lurks where we can never see it coming.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Day 289- A bit late

Dear Mr. President,

It's much later than I usually post my letter to you. Since it won't, at all, affect the time you receive the letter, I'm sure this will go unnoticed. I like to think my excuse- I was playing my oft-repeated role as Designated Driver for a few friends who'd had way too much to drink- is worthy enough that those who do read this online won't judge me for missing midnight by several hours. I spent the evening around people I care about, people I respect, people who have achieved the kind of goals in life I'm supposed to be setting for myself- graduate degrees, successful careers, marriage, family- and found very little to make me want any of it. Through it all I felt incredibly out of place, unable to relate to the things that make them happy or even the things they find important. By the end of the night, as I was attempting to herd drunk friend into safe modes of transportation and get them home, I'd been thinking a lot about the midterms.

I started the night out with a clear agenda, an ambitious idea of how the night would go and what was important to me. l was quickly forced to compromise. The conflicting agendas of others, the logistical complications, the whole evening began to feel a lot like I've always imagined negotiating a piece of legislation through congress would feel. By the time I was struggling with drunk friends to keep them safe and get them home, I felt like I was fighting the forces of gravity just to hold my sanity together. Forget about my agenda; it had been lost for hours. Not to belittle the complexity of your current political situation, by comparing to to a bunch of drunk kids at a bar, or anything. You're a big fan of the responsible-driver vs. the republicans metaphor, and tonight i regretted ever cynically complaining about how overused that particular fable has become in your stump speech. The whole country handed you the keys and said they were just going to have a couple beers. You look around now and every one is screaming about marxism and your birth certificate and Obamacare and you have to wonder why you agreed to stay sober in the first place. No one will listen to you, or take your advice, or let you just fix things the way you want to. Even when inebriated, we Americans tend to be pretty protective of the idea of our own superior judgement as individuals.

I don't imagine that I've done anything more tonight than found a small my-life-sized analogy to the massive problems and struggles you face. But I think you're making the right call. Because, for a moment, I leaned back against my friend's car to appreciate the stars, and thought about the absurdity of it all. I almost laughed, because the night had already gotten so far away from funny that there was nothing else to do. I don't know if it helped me at all, but I can say that at least no one got hurt, and at least every one got to a safe place to sleep. You may have had the most tedious night of your life and be surrounded on all sides by fellow Democrats stumbling and senseless with the fear of the whims of a capricious public, but you're still criss-crossing the campaign trail, making your case, recognizing that even if you can't keep your agenda you can at least get every one home in one piece.

It's a tough job, but somebody has to do it. Tonight, I am immensely grateful that it's you and not me.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Friday, October 15, 2010

Day 288- Lost

Dear Mr. President,

Tonight I thought about writing to you about Bill O'Reilly on The View, or a FOX news reporter claiming "all terrorists are Muslims" or maybe your own administration's heel-dragging on Don't Ask Don't Tell. I probably should write about one of these things, but I've been stuck feeling listless this week, and I just can't summon the inspiration to articulate what I think about any of these stories in an interesting way.

I'm not sure what's wrong, exactly. I seem to have lost the focus and drive that normally get me through. I don't know what it is I'm working for or what will make me happy. The suffering I read about in the news or see in other people is overwhelming. What kind of future can I hope to enjoy when so many people are going through so many bad things?

I've been prone to these moods my whole life. I call it my place of darkness. It isn't that I'm giving up, I'm just recalibrating, I think, trying to gauge what my priorities and needs and goals are, or what they should be. This whole letter-writing project was born out of a similar mood, a desire to speak to power even if my voice went unacknowledged in the cacophony of other voices. I may post these letters, copy them out and mail them to the White House, but I think we both know I'm writing for me more than I'm writing for you. I need to believe the world will get better, that we're all moving through these difficult times toward a brighter future. And maybe these letters are my way of whistling past the graveyard, the haunting fear of failure or of inconsequence that keeps me moving even when I'm not certain why or where I'm headed.

I have to just give myself permission to feel lost. I try not to let hopelessness or aimlessness take over for too long. I'm going to find my sense of purpose again, in a few days or a few weeks or a few months. For now, I think a good night's sleep is better than another hour surfing news sights for some sign of hope.

I hope you have a good weekend.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Day 287- Misogyny

Dear Mr. President,

In my many years at various bookstores in various cities, I've encountered more than a few authors and politicians I disliked. Dick Cheney shopped at one store I worked in, which also hosted signings by conservatives like James Baker and Ann Coulter. Some authors are just rude- a historian I previously had nothing against once turned me off of his World War Two books forever by yelling at me over his book's not-quite-prominent-enough location. Glenn Beck was scheduled to do an event at my Seattle Borders, but luckily re-routed his tour and was unable to make it. I'm usually pretty good at staying calm even when I don't like an author's politics, or when they turn out to be completely arrogant and self-absorbed. For every Philippa Gregory or Alex Kershaw there are the Margaret Atwoods, Laurie Notaros and Don Cheadles, who have enough grace and good humor to make up for it. Tonight, an author who seems to make his money demeaning women was in my store signing for a huge crowd of frat boys and, sadly, more than a few women. I dont understand what women possibly see in this man's humor that would make them want his autograph. (I wanted to punch him in the face just for looking at me, but, luckily for him, it's a recession and my job is worth slightly more than that.)

I watched the line twist down the staircase, and between the large groups of (largely white) gym-toned and fake-tanned frat boys, I'd catch glimpses of the girls. They all seemed to be a variation on the same theme of long hair, heavy make up, too-short shorts or too-tight dresses with designer bags and long artificial nails. With impossibly thin limbs and shimmering highlights, they wore expressions of affected disinterest as they texted on phones in one hand and clutched copies of his books in the other. On the paperback of his first memoir, the author stands pointing at a blonde under his arm, her features replaced with the words "your face here". I've often longed to be more beautiful, but tonight, watching these lovely, sad creatures in all of their splendor, I have never been so happy to be homely.

While considering the mystery of this man's appeal, I came across this article on political misogyny. The recent popularity of anti-choice female candidates like Sarah Palin, Michele Bachmann, and Christine O'Donnell has given me serious pause about my desire to see more women in high office. I would like my gender to have more representation in government- but not by the political equivalent of those tanned, bleached and very thin girls standing in line to meet Tucker Max. I'll fully own my nerdy plain girl's mistrust of those who make being pretty their full-time jobs, but I think that there is a significant difference, for example, in the politics of Senator Snowe and those of the Palin/O'Donnell crowd. American women are far too diverse to ever be expected to vote for the same party, but it is so difficult to understand women who don't stand up against the subjugation of other women. Women who don't even take themselves seriously, let alone offer voters reason enough to. I want to feel the bonds of sisterhood, some common struggle that connects me with women like this, but I just don't. Does that make me just as bad as Tucker Max? I think in some ways it must. I don't know what kind of feminism there might be that could possibly include all of us, but I know for sure we're never going to find it worshipping men like him.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Day 286- Get out the vote, Washington!

Dear Mr. President,

You're going to be speaking at my school on the 21st. I basically haven't stopped freaking out since I learned of this event a few days ago. To make the week even more exciting, Former Presidents Clinton and Carter, as well as the First Lady will all have events in Seattle that week. Unfortunately, I'll probably only make it to see you and President Carter, but having so many important Democrats visit my city in such a short time is still very exciting. I suppose this is the small upside of having an unnervingly close senate race.

At the risk of making you change your mind about visiting, I don't think you have to worry about Washington Democrats showing up this year. Patty Murray is well-liked and accomplished, and Dino Rossi has basically made a career out of losing the gubernatorial race and cheating on his taxes. I really never get tired of mocking him for his general sliminess, but I do wish he'd stop running for office and fade happily back into obscurity.

I've got several friends planning on attending with me; I'm not sure how many will join me in linning up at 5 am, but I'm counting on the later arrivals to bring me coffee. I keep trying to talk myself out of getting my hopes up; I'll probably be too far away to see much, you'll probably give the same old stump speech with that long-past-tired metaphor about the Republicans and the ditch and the car keys. I probably won't get to shake your hand or get you to sign something. I'm ok with that. I'd rather be a fan of your policies than a fan of you as a person. (Plus, not to make it a competition or anything, but I'm sure President Carter will sign his book for me.) It's still going to be a once in a lifetime experience to hear my country's president speak in person. Just because I've sent you 285 letters already this year doesn't make me any more deserving of your notice than the thousands of other screaming, devoted UW Democrats who will also be there. Still, I feel like it's important for me to go, even if it means missing class and annoying the heck out of my friends and coworkers in the meantime.

I'm glad you're coming back to Seattle, Mr. President. I'll do whatever I can to make sure my fellow progressive Washington voters and I don't let you (or Senator Murray) down. See you in a few weeks!

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Day 285- Water

Dear Mr. President,

Tonight I'm writing a paper on the inequality of water access for Palestinians as compared to illegal Israeli West Bank settlers. Papers like this are difficult to write, because I've seen the inequality I'm writing about, I've seen the suffering that results from it, and the nature of the assignment requires that I write in dispassionate abstract terms. I want to write about the disbelief I felt when I realized that water doesn't always come out when a faucet is turned on during dry summer months. The way we walked through the July heat and the settlements loomed above us from the hilltops. The contrast between their swimming pools and irrigated orchards and the dry land. I can write about the disparity in water consumption and the unfairness of consistent availability and subsidized rates enjoyed by settlers, but it doesn't feel personal enough.

Water is incredibly easy to take for granted, growing up the Pacific Northwest. More than enough of it falls from the sky. Even more flows from the mountains and still more waits just underground. It is always green here, I am always able to take long, hot showers and I have never once had water shut off because there just wasn't enough. In Palestine, I felt like I was waiting for weeks, expecting rain that would never come. While I was away, Seattle had it's own hottest, driest summer weeks, but the green trees, the lush gardens and the car washes never suffered the want of a single drop. On the fourth of July a woman not much older than me spent all afternoon bringing up water from her well and heating it so that I and the other girls I walked with could wash once we arrived at her home that evening.

How do I explain that in an academic paper? How do you explain it? When you ask representatives of these two peoples to come together and talk about peace, do you ever consider that one side lives on 70% of the WHO's estimate for basic water needs, while the other lives on 300%? Do you ever consider that, in 27 years, Israel had granted permits for only 16 new Palestinian wells, a number that doesn't even begin to keep pace with the number rendered useless by drought in that same time, let alone the increasing demand of a growing population?

International affairs are complicated. The nuances of peace negotiations are surely more complicated than some one like me can appreciate. But water is simple. Water is basic, a necessary component of survival, health and economic stability. Access to water is something that no one should be denied because of their race, religion or nation of origin. Palestinians are already kept off of 60% of the West Bank controlled by the IDF because of settlements, settler roads, or military zones, specifically because of their status as non-Jews. That their access to water resources is similarly (and in fact, more dramatically) curtailed makes Israeli apartheid practices even more offensive.

I'm going to try to distance myself enough to write this paper without emotion. But I can't help feeling deeply ashamed of my own lifestyle, as I do so. Americans consume water at a rate unmatched in the rest of the world, and we do so as we support the denial of even basic water access to others. Some days I feel so incredibly hopeless, I just don't know where to even begin working toward making it better.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Monday, October 11, 2010

Day 284-Politics and our obligations to others

Dear Mr. President,

As tragic stories of youth suicide continue to dominate headlines and conversations, I am hearing more and more questions about the extent of our responsibility for another person's actions. Can an individual be bullied to death, and, if so, can the bullies be held responsible? I don't think that suicide is an act that generally occurs as a response to an isolated event or individual. The smaller problems that pile up and eventually overwhelm a person may never be cited as a reason for suicide but can play an equally significant role. So while Carl Paladino's very public and very bigoted remarks may not, on their own, drive any gay youths to take their own lives, he, and others like him, play a role in creating the hostile environment that feeds bullies and overwhelms struggling teens. (That he made his remarks in the wake of a series of brutal hate crimes against gay men in New York City makes his ignorance even more appalling.)

Back in January of this year I wrote to you about a friend who had taken his own life as a high schooler. It's been more than 8 years and I still find myself questioning the way I treated him, the way I spoke to him, and how much responsibility I bear for his death. It's the kind of haunting doubts that no amount of reassurance will ever relieve. This recent national conversation about teen suicide and bullying has brought all of these old feelings to the surface once again. I feel like my life since I turned 16 has been an ongoing struggle to use my guilt toward better, more compassionate and more useful ends. My inclination toward wallowing helps no one, unless I apply that grief toward improving the way I treat others.

Similarly, our national reaction to these recent suicides is equally meaningless if we don't allow these feelings to lead to anything more helpful than shock, grief and outrage. It is easy to lay blame for these deaths on those who failed in their obligations to these young people as individuals. We do have a responsibility for the way we treat the people, which is obvious enough with those we encounter directly. But we seem to neglect that obligation when it comes to those we don't. For me, this is where the political becomes personal. Our values, our policies, our acceptance of or indifference to discrimination and bigotry all contribute to the very personal tragedies of those dead children. Paladino can spew his hateful remarks at a concept ("homosexuality" or "the homosexual lifestyle") and, because he isn't speaking about individuals, it becomes socially acceptable. (He has since even laughably tried to insist he isn't homophobic, and assertion he'll be allowed to make because people believe he attacked a concept and not a person or people.) But no matter how any one spins it, what Paladino said is just as hateful, just as damaging, and just as unfit for American political discourse as the words of the bullies who pick on an individual child for being gay. The words have the same source and the same consequence, the only difference being that one is taken, at worst, as a political misstep, while the other is potential grounds for legal action. This disconnect is not reserved for gay rights issues; children are bullied for looking, talking, or acting different, for being poor, for being immigrants or the children of immigrants. In a country where being an ethnic or religious minority, an immigrant, or dependent upon social services for survival are constantly vilified or shamed in political discourse, I don't think it's a stretch to say that our children are learning their bullying behaviors from accepted national prejudices.

I've been lucky, for the most part, in that my life has been helped along by a number of caring and compassionate strangers. People who have treated me with kindness and compassion far outnumber the ones who have been hurtful or sexist or willfully cruel. I think that while bullying and cruelty may be inevitable facts of human nature, we generally want to be responsible in the way we treat one another. We want to be kind to their neighbors and the people they encounter in daily life. Which is why, for example, opponents of gay rights often cite their own gay friends/relatives/employees/acquaintances as evidence that they don't hate gay people, they're just talking politics. We have a much easier time discriminating against concepts or groups than individuals. But I don't think this relieves us from the obligations we have to other people, even if we never meet them, even if we never know their names. While I'm not saying that any one opposing gay marriage should be held accountable for the deaths of gay teens, I do feel that they shouldn't be allowed to avoid an appreciation for the real implications of their positions. They aren't just taking a side in a political debate; they are advocating a legal and social bias against people, against the very same friends and relatives they ostensibly treat with compassion and kindness.

So while we continue to grapple with the question of how much responsibility a bully bears for the actions of the bullied, I think we all ought to examine our own words and actions and the role they play in the long-standing and ongoing struggle faced by children and young people who are different. We have to keep our political positions in perspective, to reflect on the way the abstract translates to the tangible, individual, personal consequences. Because I believe that we can all do a better job of tending to one another, of making the already difficult undertaking of growing up just a little bit easier on every one.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Day 283- Columbus Day



Dear Mr. President,

I don't know if you've heard, but there's a culture war raging in America. A concerted effort by the socialist, America-hating liberals of our country to destroy a cherished American holiday. It's an outright war on Columbus Day. If there's one thing I learned, for sure, in my public school education, it's that distorting historical fact to disguise unsavory aspects of imperialism is our birthright as Americans. If the 4th of July is our annual opportunity to remind the British just how badly we beat them in the Revolutionary War, than surely Columbus Day's annual celebration of the (approximate) beginning of the Native American genocide is just as valid. (Because nothing says class like committing genocide and then celebrating it every year with department store sales.) Seriously, I can only imagine that, centuries from now, when the Germans are celebrating an annual day in commemoration of Hitler, some whiney liberals will be crying for political correctness and ruining every one's fun.

Ok, my Bill O'Reilly impression will only carry me so far. As a whiney liberal, I do find the celebration of our bloody, imperialist origins to be extremely offensive. Columbus and those that would follow him brought all of the hellish and most reprehensible practices of the imperial powers down on the indigenous people of this continent. I say this in full acknowledgement of my own European descent. I can't change what my ancestors did, and I probably can't even begin to make it right to the descendants of the survivors, but I don't have to participate in this stunningly insensitive display of pride in those crimes.

My long-standing distaste for this day is heightened this year by a class I'm taking on American Indians and US Law. It's only been a few weeks, and so our focus continues to be on the early legal decisions made by European colonists toward the Native people of the Americas. The paternalism, the absolute lack of regard for the very humanity of the Indigenous people turns my stomach with every new page and every new lecture. What really surprised me was how familiar it all seems. Twisting the law to justify unspeakable acts and align a violent imperial project with supposed Christian values, even in the language of the sixteenth century, reminds me strongly of the twisted justifications for war in Iraq and Afghanistan, and for the torture of prisoners during interrogations. The reason we still celebrate Columbus Day is same reason we still commit these acts of violence; we have not learned from the mistakes of our history. We can't ever make it right, but the real tragedy is that we seem doomed, instead, to keep making it worse. And so our newspapers read like our history books, stories of blood and death with unenumerated body counts for those with skin too dark or names too strange for their deaths as individuals to move a writer to include them. No culture war, no tradition is worth celebrating this many lives lost or forever ruined. The only redemption that can be found in crimes this ancient and this awful is the wisdom that ought to instruct those of us alive today to avoid, not to repeat and certainly not to celebrate, the brutality of our ancestors.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Day 282- Hold 'em

Dear Mr. President,

I learned to play Texas Hold 'em because I didn't want to feel left out. The boys I went to High School with had begun having weekly poker nights, and it was strictly No Girls Allowed. I'm still not sure what made them change their minds and include us; maybe playing a guys-only game just wasn't as fun? Maybe they just wanted more sources of money in hopes of increasing their winnings? For whatever reason, the boys broke down and let a few of us girls join. We played late at night, small-stakes, unlimited re-buying and way too much of Mrs. Yunker's delicious coffee and snacks keeping us up sometimes until dawn. Later in the summer, seeking the thrill of higher stakes and the greater glory of taking money from strangers, we moved our weekly nights to a limit game in a local casino. When Teddy Roosevelt said "walk softly and carry a big stick" he probably didn't imagine that decades later an 18 year old girl would adopt it as her mantra for hustling poker tables full of 40-year old drunks. (It was a very good summer, in some respects.) The whole poker culture fascinated me, especially at the world series, where the ancient celebrities clashed with the young turks learning the game online.

These days I only play for fun, an occasional night game with friends, like tonight. Coworkers, new friends and total strangers, we gather around a too-small table in a motley assortment of chairs, trading banter as we bond over junk food and movie references. A game like poker will quickly give a table full of strangers the familiarity of friends or even kin. You play the person, not the cards, I'm told. This strategy appeals to me, as does the way the tides of fortune change. At any point the weakest player can take on the strongest and win. Tonight I've already won and lost more money than I care to think about, but I'm still pretty confident that I'll manage to claw my way back to a tidy profit.

So, strangely enough, this has me thinking about the filibuster. Domestic policy is not dissimilar from poker, in that strategy tends to trump substance. The strength or wisdom of policy proposals is secondary to the wrangling, bluffing and bullying institutionalized in both houses of congress. Maybe that's part of the fun, part of the challenge. And I won't claim more than an amateur observer's expertise in the finer points of political strategy, but, as a poker player, I feel like Democrats have great cards and rarely, if ever, know how to play them. Just the other day a friend asked me about filibusters and why the threat of a filibuster is enough to hold things up. Why don't the Democrats just let them filibuster and see how bad they look doing it? I didn't have a satisfying answer for her.

Anyway, I should probably go focus on this game, if I'm ever going to scrape my way back into the black. Not to beat the whole metaphor to death or anything, but it is long past time to call the Republican's bluff. I will add my voice to the chorus of those on the left who want to see these Filibuster threats acted on. I suspect that the Republicans are just bullying; I'd bet that the first display of strength from the Democrats and they'd back down. But I'll stick to playing cards and leave such musings to those more qualified to offer them. I hope you're enjoying your weekend.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Friday, October 8, 2010

Day 281- Of and For

Dear Mr. President,

I understand why people are upset over recent revelations about Lou Dobbs' shameless hypocrisy. I think that the real shame of the matter is not that undocumented workers were hired by Dobbs' contractors, but that this man who claims to represent the everyday populism of the working class owns horses and an estate large enough to require that many workers for upkeep. The right is notoriously good at pretending to be representative of so-called average America, while hailing from backgrounds of unfathomable wealth and privilege. And while Democrats are often equally wealthy, it seems like they're also more likely to be criticized as "elitist" while they work for policies that are more beneficial to the poor and middle class. I suppose both sides are hypocritical to varying degrees. A system like ours that requires a certain amount of wealth (and, let's face it, a certain shamelessness about asking for money from the rich) while the public increasingly requires our officials to be of the people they represent is basically a recipe for lies and hypocrisy.

Electing those with similar experiences and life history to our own may feel good, but it doesn't guarantee true representation of our interests. The fact that really any poor people vote Republican proves that we often don't vote in our own best interests, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't be responsible for governing ourselves. It's our right to vote for candidates we like instead of candidates who will promote policies that are the most beneficial to us; it makes our whole screwed up system kind of beautiful, actually. The problem Democrats have is that, for too long, they have allowed the right to set the terms of the discussion- to make it about faux populism and personality, to force themselves to drink whiskey shots and talk about guns in Pennsylvania (I'm lookin' at you, Hillary) or stage back-yard photo ops to counter the damning perception that a candidate might like arugula. The conversation needs to be changed. Instead of focusing on how of the people they are, Democrats should be doing a better job showing how for the people they are. I'm a liberal because I believe in liberal ideas and I think liberal policies are the best for our society- not because liberals look, act, or live like the same way I do. Instead of wasting time trying to convince me how similar we are, personally, I'd rather hear what a politician honestly believes and what they honestly plan to do in office. Actual straight talk- not the affected, folksy patronizing McCain variety- requires a frankness that has nothing to do with using too many big words or how much a person's haircut costs.

A politician who speaks honestly and bravely will do more good and, I would imagine, ultimately feel better about their campaign, win or lose on election day. I suspect that it will also, ultimately, make them more likable. I still believe that this is the fundamental change that people hoped for when they voted for you in 2008, regardless of their personal ideology. All politicians, all political pundits, even those of us tiny people out here in the blogosphere who just comment on things in quiet anonymity, all of us are Lou Dobbs. We're hypocrites who can never hope to live up to the grandiose ambitions of our best selves. Accepting our own hypocrisy and refusing to run from it or hide behind a more forgivingly crafted identity is the only way we can move forward, the only way we can elect representatives who will actually work in the best interest of all Americans.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

PS this is the second time I've defended Lou Dobbs and I really don't feel great about that.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Day 280- liberty, and justice for all.

Dear Mr. President,

As a child I had an annoying habit of refusing to do anything that could not be justified as useful or necessary. Teachers, parents and other adults were often exasperated by my need to question their requests and refusal to follow orders I didn't see the purpose of. Though I believed in God as a child, I refused to say the pledge of allegiance. For one thing, I found the odd addition of "under God" to be a reminder of the worst aspects of American history. Additionally, reciting a pledge I'd heard so many times the words had lost their meaning seemed like a poor substitute for actual love of my country. Like compulsory displays of faith, these forced demonstrations of patriotism always rung falsely to my young ears. I wondered, don't the actions we choose mean more than the things we are compelled to?

I'd forgotten about this entirely as an adult. At 24 I'm not often required to say the pledge. I suppose as a student of public school it was only the daily reminder that stoked my objections, because I quite honestly have thought very little at all about the pledge of allegiance since graduation, at least until today. Today I saw a news story out of Mississippi, where a lawyer was held in contempt for his refusal to recite the pledge of allegiance when ordered by a judge.

When I saw this story I remembered my own days sitting or standing silently while the other students in the class said the Pledge. One devote Mormon used to say the words "under God" with more emphasis than the rest of the pledge, looking around defiantly as though waiting to challenge any of us to contradict her. I suppose I have no real objection to the idea of America being "under God", though, obviously, this is unfairly exclusive of atheist Americans; at least, I think it is important for Americans to see ourselves as under something, anything, so that we don't imagine our dominion as a superpower to be absolute. "One nation, under a regard for the rights and dignity of every human" doesn't exactly have the same ring to it, but is maybe closer to what I mean. The whole process felt close to idolatry or religious devotion; a kool-aid drinking I just didn't see as having any practical purpose. If an adult had ever explained to me why we say the pledge in a way that had made sense, I probably would have done it. Now that I'm all grown up and worried about more important things, I suppose I've reached the conclusion that the pledge is ultimately symbolic. And symbolism may have it's place, I suppose, but not when it comes at the direct expense of the rights and freedoms that make our country worth my allegiance in the first place.

Anyway, I hope that the charges against the Mississippi lawyer are dropped. His right, and my own, to refuse to say the pledge is what makes me proud of this country. I think that means ever so much more than the words themselves, which are, after all, subject to change at the whims of American foreign policy. I may not give the pledge much thought, now that I'm not asked to say it every morning, but I often think about and am grateful for the freedom of speech given to me and exercised by this lawyer. A pledge cannot have meaning when it is coerced and this man's stand against it is far more patriotic than the judge's attempt to force him to say words that ultimately mean nothing without the right to refuse to say them.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Day 279- The Party of Food Stamps

Dear Mr. President,

Newt Gingrich has labeled Democrats "the party of food stamps". I have an immediate and emotional reaction to this attack because my roommate is on food stamps. She works hard but barely makes enough money to pay rent and the rest of her bills. Without food stamps, she would be unable to afford to eat very much at all, and especially not the kind of healthy food that she needs as a vegan. (Also, to those who would claim her dietary choices are elitist: the food choices she makes require less fossil fuel to produce and impacts the environment less than the average omnivore.) When men like Gingrich, who have no concerns about where their next meal comes from, criticize people like my roommate, I get exceedingly, irrationally angry.

The number of people on food stamps is higher than it has ever been. I don't think boasting about plans to give tax breaks to billionaires while decrying a program that helps the poorest Americans meet their basic survival need to eat is an effective campaign strategy. Nor do I think the Republicans have offered an alternative to social welfare programs that will ensure the poor and those struck by sudden misfortune will have a safety net.

I haven't met any one on food stamps who isn't committed to finding a way off of them. It's mildly humiliating, and while some may be dependent upon them long-term, I think that most Americans on food stamps are doing so as a temporary act of desperation. Why on earth a wealthy man like Gingrich would think that attacking suffering and impoverished while they attempt to work their way toward independence is a mystery to me. I'm glad that you have always spoken about the struggling and less fortunate in such a way as to preserve their dignity. I don't think that the party of food stamps is an insult; it's as though Gingrich is admitting that while Democrats would protect the poor in their time of need, Republicans would rather see them starve.

Somehow I don't think that slogan will play well in November.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Day 278- $75

Dear Mr. President,

Ok, I guess I'm a socialist. Better Red than Dead. I should probably just break down and get Lenin's face tattooed on my bicep. What can I say, I'm hopelessly pro-firefighting. And, call me unreasonable, but I think firefighting services should be available, for free, for every person in America, regardless of where they live or if they are rich, poor, middle class or even Republican. If Dino Rosi's house is on fire, I really don't mind if some of the taxes I paid this year go toward putting it out. I know we don't really have HUAC any more, but I'm sure Michele Bachmann can whip something up to take care of me, right?

I'm writing in reference to a house fire in Tennessee. Because one home owner failed to pay the $75 rural residents are required to pay per year for firefighting services, his house burned to the ground. The man offered to pay for any expenses the firefighters might incur, and he was refused. The firefighters put out the part of the blaze that spread to his fee-paying neighbor's home, but sat outside in trucks with the necessary equipment to save his home and watched it burn.

If there's one policy area where you'd think that people could come together on, firefighting seems like it ought to be a strong contender. I do understand that this man's house was outside of city limits and so the fee for protecting him was to make up for the fact that his taxes didn't fund the fire department as those of city residents did. I get this. But when the moment comes and the firefighters are faced with a fire and don't put it out over $75, well, I think that something important is being missed. Emergency services should help people first, and worry about jurisdiction or expense after. Send the homeowner a bill, for God's sake. The fact that some people on the right are suggesting this man had it coming really upsets me. Forgive me, but what the hell kind of country is this? Whatever happened to love thy neighbor? Also, not to continually kick the issue of federal defense spending, but maybe if we were spending less money burning other countries to the ground, state and local emergency services wouldn't be quite so strapped for cash. Maybe we should apply this logic at the Federal level and stop offering tax evaders the services of the Federal government. Cease their mail delivery, refuse to allow them to fly or drive on federal highways and deny them Social Security.

While I may decry the policies that led to this, I have to indict the behavior of the firefighters themselves, as well. We have an obligation to help one another to the best of our abilities, on the clock or off. I don't have a whole lot of useful skills, but when I saw an old woman being assaulted at the bus stop, I stepped in to stop her assailant. Because I could. Because I have the training and the ability. My coworker is red-cross certified in First Aid, and you can bet he'd be the first to step up in a medical emergency, regardless of his likelihood of being compensated. My roommate speaks Spanish and will step up to translate for customers struggling to be understood. We all have skills and abilities and we all have a moral obligation to use those skills to help one another. These firefighters were trained professionals with the equipment (and also the time) to help put out the fire in this man's house and they refused to. That's shameful as public servants and shameful as human beings. Conservatives can spin and wring their hands and quote Ayn Rand all they want; at the end of the day there is right and there is wrong, damn it, and sometimes we're lucky enough know the difference.

So paint me red and call me comrade, because I guess I've been a socialist all along.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Monday, October 4, 2010

Day 277- Why the peace talks will not continue

"President Barack Obama rises at the UN and calls for a further moratorium on building in the settlements, as if it’s a crime for peaceful people to have children and add rooms to warm and hospitable homes." Shmuley Boteach, Jerusalem Post

I'd like to know if the peaceful people of East Jerusalem having their houses bulldozed are entitled to these things? Or the Bedouins? Settlement expansion is part of the same manifest-destiny mentality that makes people like Mr. Boteach feel entitled to the entire West Bank. And I wouldn't call this an act of peace.


Dear Mr. President,

Rumor has it you've been writing your own letters lately. I don't know if this account is true or not, but I do believe that you are desperate enough to continue the peace talks that you would make the offer you're rumored to have made to Prime Minister Netanyahu. Increasing our aid money, our weapon sales, our UN-veto frequency in exchange for a 2-month extension on the settlement freeze might seem like a good deal. Let's be honest, the US was going to veto those resolutions, sell those weapons and send that money anyway. I'm sure you still will, and so is Netanyahu, which is why he rejected your offer. I suppose in this sense you had nothing to lose by making it.

But the nature of your offer to Netanyahu highlight the utter foolishness of our policy toward Israel. Unconditional veto of UN resolutions? What does that say about our respect for the UN, the Security Council, or the process of seeking international justice? That no matter what Israel does, the US will use our veto to defend it. I suppose I was foolish to think that your administration had more respect for the UN than the previous one, but it really is disappointing to see how little you care for the institution and its purpose. Your alleged offer makes it clear that Israel may commit whatever human rights violations it sees fit and count on US support. Just like your reaction to the Mavi Marmara. Or the Goldstone Report. Or the Gaza war. Just like your complete lack of outrage over the cold-blooded murder of Palestinian children by Israeli troops. Your policies make it impossible to defend your administration against those on the left who wonder what the point of voting is, any more.

So the settlements will expand. The peace talks will break down. You can't ask President Abbas to abandon his already fragile legitimacy for peace talks that Israel has done nothing to indicate sincerity about. I am sorry, if not surprised. This is why it doesn't matter if you really made that offer to Netanyahu or not. The US cannot continue to pretend to play an honest broker while being this cozily in bed with one side of these negotiations. If you are serious about peace, if you want to earn your Nobel or secure your legacy or if you honestly want to ease the suffering on both sides of this conflict and leave the world a little safer for Sasha and Malia than you have to cease the charade of neutrality. The US can be neutral, it can be an honest broker and can lead both sides to a just and peaceful future. But it has to be more than just lip-service. We have to end the funding of Israel's occupation forces and insist that the Israeli people pay the bill themselves. We have to end our unconditional defense of Israel to the world and base our positions on the values of the United States of America- respect for human life, human rights, and for international law. We have to stop selling weapons to a regime that targets civilians and stop giving tax breaks to us groups funding illegal settlements. If we can practice real neutrality, we can achieve real peace.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Day 276- Roads taken and otherwise

Dear Mr. President,

I'm having one of those weeks where everything in my life is up for questioning. Am I happy? Am I doing the right thing? Am I making the right choices? What are my goals? Maybe it's back-to-school time getting to me, or the overabundance of sentimental movies I've been watching lately. Facing this general uncertainty always inclines me to look back, to evaluate the decision and compromises and mistakes I've made in the past. (It also leads to a lot of baking.) I see old boyfriends and high school classmates getting married, settling down, having children. Sometimes I worry that kind of normal adulthood is just never going to appeal to me. People my age want careers, houses, cars, families. I want something much less tangible. Perhaps my constant need to question the path I'm walking has held me back, slowing my journey and putting me through more emotional turmoil than otherwise necessary. I suspect, however, that I'm just built this way, there's nothing to be done about it.

This letter isn't particularly political. I know people with Real Problems- worries over where their next meal, the new roof, the health insurance, the unemployment benefits, the job or the right to marry their partner will come from, if it comes at all. I'm lucky to be wallowing in a state of mild existential crisis. It will surely pass. And while I may wish I could go back and do a number of things differently, it is far more important to focus on my current situation and try to steer in a better direction. I want to find happiness, and I think that a big part of that, for me, is feeling good about what I do, and that requires a certain amount of constant questioning.

Do you find yourself doing the same thing with your own goals? I can't imagine that you have the luxury of being anywhere near as self-reflective as my lack of significance affords me. The importance of your job simply wouldn't permit it. But surely you have to take stock of things, occasionally, to measure your progress and question your course. Especially given the grim forecast for the midterms and the recent media narrative, I'd imagine you must be seriously considering your Presidency's goals and strategies. While I'm sure that conventional wisdom says you ought to be moving to the center, pandering to the vocal movement of intractable conservatism, I hope that you refuse to listen to it. You can't take back the promises you made in the campaign, or lower expectations before you took office. The only thing left to do is figure out a way to keep those promises and rise to those expectations- something that an ostensibly safe veer toward the center will never allow you.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Day 275- Camaraderie

Dear Mr. President,

No matter how trivial or tedious the work, my job has always been important to me. When I was 16, I started working at a Jack-in-the-box. While this job was hard and often unpleasant (especially for a vegetarian) it exposed me to the challenges of employment at a young age, and brought people into my life who I otherwise would never have encountered. I met people who had been to jail, people who regularly used drugs, single moms, illegal immigrants, and more than one person working two or three minimum wage jobs to support their family. Some weekends, the crew would go out to play paintball on a Christmas tree farm outside of town. I've worked at a family-owned pizza parlor, corporate coffee giants, campus security, sandwich shops, an Indian restaurant and five different bookstores. In every job, my coworkers have been immensely important to me. Knowing and trusting and enjoying one another goes a long way toward making work bearable. Learning from my coworkers and learning about them as we get to know each other makes going to work every day something I look forward to.

This is why I found your farewell to Rahm Emanuel so saddening. I know that losing a coworker you rely upon can be difficult, but I'm sure Rahm will be able to do a lot of good in Chicago. Even if I didn't always agree with him, I've always respected the very difficult job that Mr. Emanuel had and his considerable political skill. I hope that when you find a permanent replacement, you chose an individual from outside your existing circle. I think the White House has lost sight of a really coherent message over the last few month, and that some have tried to solve this by lashing out at those supporters who have tried to hold you to your campaign promises. I think that strategy is a poor one for turning out voters and for changing any skeptical centrists. I don't pretend to know enough about the internal politics of the White House to know where this strategy came from, but Rahm Emanuel's disdain for the far left has always caused me to associate it with him.

One aspect of your senior staff I have always admired is the way they all seem to enjoy doing their very difficult jobs. I'm sure the camaraderie they share has a lot to do with this. I hope that, whoever ends up as COS, this continues. I know it makes my own day easier (andI'm sorry to admit that at least some of the bonding I do with my current coworkers involves lamenting the disappointing performance of many Democratic politicians, but, rest assured, we're still much tougher on the Republicans.) I hope that Rahm has good luck in the mayoral race, (and I think he should probably give serious thought to appearing on SNL.) This is a tremendous opportunity for you to change the way the rest of the world views the White House, and I hope that you make the most of it.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey