Some thoughts on the morning after, and the mornings to come


I’ve been involved in the Barack Obama campaign since the spring of 2007, first because I was just curious and then because I was stunned by Obama’s charisma. I attended his first rally in Tallahassee which, when I remember it now, was remarkable in its simplicity. There was no Secret Service – in fact, he seemed to be alone, with no handlers visible anywhere. There was no metal detector at the door, no scramble for tickets. We simply paid our money and walked in. There was a rather high price, and the students who could not afford the hundred-dollar cost crowded the plaza surrounding the building, hoping for a glimpse of the Man Who Would Be President.

I had been invited to work with the volunteers who were scattered around the room, instructed to wear all black so I would be identified as someone who might be able to answer a question: yes, ma’am, the restrooms are this way; no, sir, the balcony is reserved for those folks who contributed $500. As a part of this group, I was privy to tidbits of insider gossip: Mr. Obama was just across the plaza in the high-rise penthouse, meeting with the heavy hitter, high-roller contributors. To reach our building, he would be driven around the block for security reasons and enter from the rear. And no, he wouldn’t have time to take questions or shake hands – this was a flying trip.

As we waited patiently, listening to the warmup from the Mayor, a County Commissioner, a City Commissioner, a State Legislator, we could hear increasing crowd noise from the plaza. I found a window and watched, incredulous, as, all alone, Obama emerged from the ground floor of the high rise, crossed the plaza, and climbed on a stone bench. He’s a tall man, graceful, at ease in his body – almost painfully thin, but vigorous. He hopped on that bench like an eighteen-year-old at a rock concert, excited at the prospect of hearing Springsteen or Widespread Panic.

I watched the crowd of students surge towards the bench. They had hoped to catch a glimpse – instead, they had front row position. I couldn’t hear his words, so I searched their faces.

I was struck as I lay in bed Tuesday night, November 4, 2008, and listened to President-Elect Obama’s acceptance speech and saw the faces in the crowd at Chicago’s Grant Park – the expressions were the same as what I observed on that cool March day in the spring of 2007. I saw the same look in the crowd at Florida A&M University in September, 2007, and on folks who gathered to listen to Michelle Obama in the spring of 2008. They were uniquely American faces: open, attentive, guileless – and, most of all, hopeful. I would leave these events over the past 18 months feeling almost high on hope, and thinking to myself, it’s been a long time since I’ve been thrilled at the promise of my country. I’m energized, ready to tackle problems, convinced that we can leave things in good shape for our children and grandchildren. Yes, we can.

As a southern white woman who cut her political teeth protesting the Vietnam war and advocating for civil rights for all Americans, I am certainly thrilled with the idea that a black man has become our leader. Barack Obama’s race doesn’t really define him, however. The quality that should matter most to us about our new President is his eagerness to lead us. This shines through his words. America so desperately needs optimism, confidence and competence in the Oval Office, and I think we have found it. I believe our whole world has been holding its breath, longing for our citizens to reclaim our position in the international community and reaffirm that our country, warts and all, is still the shining city on the hill.

I’m proud of us.

ONE STEP FORWARD – AND WHAT FEELS LIKE TWO STEPS BACK


First of all, a disclaimer: I am a woman. In fact, I date my real entry into womanhood from November 22, 1963, a day when the world shattered, when our parents cried and underneath the sorrow, we young folks could hear a little hum of something new. I was sixteen.

In the 45 years that have ensued, our country has seen many changes, some good, some not so good. One of the most significant shifts in attitude has been underscored by the campaign of Senator Hillary Clinton. Though I have been an Obama supporter since February of 2007, I have watched this strong woman and admired her and been glad. Vilified, demonized, portrayed as the anti-Christ during the years of her husband’s presidency, Hillary Clinton has had the courage to step up and offer herself to the American people for more of the same. And, to our credit, we Democrats treated her JUST LIKE ANY OTHER CANDIDATE. This is huge. In fact, had we not had a candidate who embodied the same ideals as she and in addition had the ability to kindle hope in large populations accustomed to a daily diet of despair, she might very well be our candidate for President today.

I’m a huge fan of a little cable TV show called “Mad Men.” Since it’s set in that very year of my entry into the sadness of the adult world, it really fascinates me. And I’m here to tell you, it’s accurate. One of the continuing (and disturbing) themes of “Mad Men” is the role of women in the workplace and in the broader society. I watch and pretty much discount the men – they’re a bit stupid and bumbling and pretty much into drinking, smoking and lechery. It’s the women characters I find intriguing. For the most part, they completely buy into and perpetuate the cast-in-stone definition of womanhood received from their parents and their parents’ parents before, back to the dawn of time. I remember these women, though in my little south Alabama town they weren’t as glamorous as the ones on TV. But I also know that somewhere in this group of TV victims their sixteen-year-old daughters are thinking, “Not me.” And back in the actual America of 1963 one of those teenage daughters was, in fact, Hillary Rodham.

So I’ve been pretty pumped this year – it’s seemed as though change was in the air. All the hard work by so many women who were sixteen in 1963 -- and all born since then -- seemed to have finally gotten us somewhere. Then, lest I should get too giddy – along comes Sarah Palin.

Sarah Palin would be right at home with the ladies of “Mad Men.” She commented long before her elevation to the national stage that she styles her hair and wears her glasses to tone down her (wink, wink) good looks – doesn’t want her (almost totally male) state constituency to be unable to take her seriously. Even though she herself was pregnant when she married, she certainly doesn’t support anything other than abstinence-only sex education in school – wonder how that is working for her family? Statistics show that daughters are much more likely to follow this severely limiting path, reducing the likelihood of higher education and career, if their mothers experienced this and NO REASONABLE SEX EDUCATION IS PROVIDED. And the fact tht her daughter has a CHOICE about what to do about her pregnancy has completely escaped everyone, it seems. Ms. Palin has referred to her daughter’s actions and to her own when faced with the birth of a Down syndrome child as a CHOICE – without ever acknowledging the whole point of this issue – which is that these choices are made by women and physicians, or within families, but not by governments.

Sarah Palin is committed to the reversal of Roe v. Wade. Sarah Palin is opposed to gay marriage. Before her son Trig was born, Sarah Palin slashed funding for special needs children in Alaska by 62 percent (although she seems to have had her consciousness raised by recent circumstances). Sarah Palin rejects the science underlying the phenomenon of global warming. Sarah Palin has spearheaded the move to build the largest oil pipeline in the western hemisphere from Alaska to the lower 48. Sarah Palin seems to have used the power of her office to further her vendetta against her sister’s ex-husband, yet claims an ethical high ground by opposing Senator Ted Stevens’ re-election. Oh, by the way, she also opposed Sen. Stevens’ attempt to keep the polar bear on the Endangered Species List because – bingo – polar bear habitat happens to be fertile ground for oil drilling.

There cannot be a woman in America who is more different from Hillary Rodham Clinton than Sarah Palin. Gov. Palin represents everything that Sen. Clinton has opposed for her entire life – in her law practice, as First Lady of Arkansas, as First Lady of the United States, as a United States Senator and as a presidential candidate. Can Senator McCain and his political operatives really believe that the women who supported Hillary will embrace Sarah? And sadly, the most important question – will we? Have we really made progress – or are we kidding ourselves? Are we not outraged, indignant, insulted, shocked, appalled, dismayed – and terrified? Will we speak out?

WE DEMOCRATS ARE A MESSY BUNCH . . .

I had a small adventure this week – went to the opening of the Obama headquarters here in Tallahassee. I was struck by how typical of the Democratic Party as a whole this opening was: messy, crowded, exuberant, hopeful, and pretty poorly organized.

The first thing I notice at this headquarters is the handmade sign. “Obama ‘08” it says – an exact duplicate of the Obama logo we’ve all come to recognize, but clearly drawn and colored with Magic Markers. I’m thinking, is there no provision for a professionally printed sign? And then I’m thinking, no, that would be across town at the McCain operation, which I understand has been up and running (smoothly, I’m sure) for three months.

Upon entering headquarters, I make a wrong turn and end up at the end of an unmarked corridor and discover the ladies’ room. Serendipity! Don’t know if I could have found it had I been looking, but I take advantage. Then back down the corridor, into the packed meeting rooms – overworked air conditioning (in Tallahassee in August, this is the same as none at all), throngs of people, mass confusion.

There are refreshments. Like the sign outside, these are obviously homemade – wonderful cakes, trays of crackers and dip, casseroles with unidentifiable contents. There are also boxes of cookies from Publix. No plates, no napkins. An earnest, sweating young man offers me a bottle of water straight from the case he’s just opened. We Democrats certainly don’t need cold water – we’re made of stronger stuff!

There are local politicians sprinkled throughout the crowd, recognizable to everyone – after all, this is Tallahassee, where politics is part and parcel of everyday life. There are candidates for local office, easily identified by the formality of their dress – dark suits for both men and women, makeup and hairdos carefully attended to for the latter – and everywhere, sweaty, sweaty faces.

Ah, but the crowd. I revel in this stuff – these are my people. There are, of course, many young people – we are a college town. There are black faces and white faces, men and women, small babies. There are familiar faces, folks I’ve known for years, and lots of new faces, too. Every face has a smile – this is more fun than we Democrats have had in years.

I buttonhole a City Commissioner and beg for a minute of his time to lobby for an issue that’s dear to my heart. He listens, responds, heads across the room to corner the Mayor, turns me over to him. I plead my case. He looks me in the eye and gives a response. I love this. I think of the Founding Fathers and hope they’d be proud. I greet a County Commissioner on my way out of the room and tell him to stay the course on a difficult and unpopular issue – one on which he has come down on the side of humanity. He grins.

Everywhere there is noise, dust, heat, confusion – pleas from young volunteers to sign up for phone banks and neighborhood canvassing – ebb and flow of an energized group.

This was fun. I’m not sure how much difference all this will make in the final outcome of our approaching election, but there is an energy in the rank and file members of the party that I haven’t seen, maybe ever. There’s a feeling that maybe this might actually happen – that we might be witnessing a monumental shift in the direction of our country, or maybe just a movement back on track and forward. In these tiny crowded rooms in a once-vacant little office complex there is a bubbling hope. I love this stuff.

Leon really is Florida's CAPITAL county!

In follow-up to my posting of July 4th, I feel honor-bound to take a moment to praise the Board of County Commissioners of Leon County, Florida. These guys – and one very lovely lady – work really HARD. I watched the TV news last night, and in all the reports of the first day of budget workshops there were many film clips of some worn-out folks. I’m trying to imagine how difficult it is to sit up on that dais with a roomful of citizens staring, staring, staring – not saying anything, just staring.

Today I was one of those citizens. I sat with my group and mostly just hoped these good people would see their way clear to do the right thing – and they did! They stepped up to the plate, took the bit in their teeth, rolled up their sleeves – just about any cliché will do – and did the absolute right thing.

If preliminary workshop decisions become official by budget deadline time, our community will be pretty much held harmless from the draconian measures of Amendment One. Because of the solid fiscal management referred to in my previous blog, our Commissioners were able to achieve this with a combination of a very slight raise in millage rates for some property owners (although no one at or below the median home price for a homesteaded property) and cuts made previously, beginning in December of 2007. This is quite an achievement. And the upbeat mood was palpable. Commissioner Thaell summed it for the room: we should be amazed at what we have done.

Although my issue was narrowly focused – I was there as a community health care advocate – it was obvious that many worthy programs had been saved. We kept our main library open for many extra hours per week, we retained our wonderful youth employment program, we have our dearly beloved mosquito control program – and we maintained health care funding for women and children and the mentally ill who are uninsured and in desperate need of services. We continued support of our new jail diversion program and added money for a health educator to be provided through the Healthy Start program.

Today I am truly proud of my County government. I watched professional, well-informed staff respond to elected officials who showed a deep affection for what we treasure about our little city – the willingness to pull together for the benefit of all, even the neediest among us.

So I’m here at home extending my standing ovation. Hats off to all of you, six gentlemen and one lovely lady.

Because it's the 4th of July . . . Amendment One

I’ve done a little research in the past few weeks – I’m worried about my city and county and imminent threats to our quality of life posed by the dictates of Amendment One. Here’s what I’ve discovered:

For many years (probably since the ‘70s, actually) property values in Florida have been climbing. Even before the sharp increases in the early part of the 21st century, the worth of a home seemed guaranteed to rise, maybe forever. And interestingly enough, as values rose, our local elected leaders opted to LOWER millage rates.

This would seem to be a no-brainer. Because of rising values, the City of Tallahassee and Leon County could realize an increase in property tax revenues while at the same time decreasing the tax levied on a percentage basis. If you paid more tax it was because your home was worth more – fair enough, right? And we citizens reaped the benefits in the form of more and better parks, more branch libraries, better funded human services and the like. Life in these parts was good. In fact, I’ve regarded Tallahassee as one of America’s best-kept secrets, and, like the citizens of the state of Oregon, always felt that we welcomed visitors, but didn’t need to let the word spread to potential permanent residents.

Unfortunately, not all the counties and municipalities in Florida have had the benefit of mature leadership, apparently. Some city and county governing bodies in other parts of the state used the opportunity afforded by rising home values to raise millage rates, thereby creating windfall funding for their various entities. And inevitably, when housing values began to climb precipitously, homeowners in those jurisdictions began to demand relief.

Thus was born Amendment One. Without regard to differences in circumstances, it was crafted as a mandate for all governments to roll back millage rates. In a classic example of throwing out the baby with the bath water, our Legislature, supported by our very popular new Governor, went after property taxes with a club, when a selective scalpel might have been better.

But there’s hope: we have a window of opportunity this summer. By a super-majority vote of our City and County Commissions, we can override this rollback, just this one time. Our Commissioners can opt to set millage rates at a level that will continue funding the needs of the citizenry. And in my view, these elected officials have an actual mandate from the electorate to do so.

Analysis of the results of the January 2008 vote on Amendment One yields this: of 173 Leon County precincts, only TWO voted in favor of the amendment. This vote crosses all racial, economic, geographic and party lines. North, south, east and west, inside the city limits and in all the unincorporated areas, Leon County residents overwhelmingly, by a two-to-one margin, voted AGAINST a property tax rollback.

Anecdotal evidence will bear this out, I believe. When asked the question, would you prefer to save a little money on your property taxes or continue with the excellent services provided by City and County government, virtually any citizen on Tallahassee’s streets will respond resoundingly in favor of the latter.

I can think of no better way for City and County Commissioners to continue the excellent decision-making that has been the hallmark of our local government in this area than to vote at least in a super majority, and preferably unanimously, to override this unwarranted usurpation of local powers. This would be statesmanship of the first order.

The Bird Feeder

I gave my husband a bird feeder for his birthday. We've never had a bird feeder before; we live in the deep south, and I know that birds have plenty to eat year-round down here, so I've never felt a humanitarian urge to feed them. But Michael loves animals and he's always enjoyed watching their behavior, and since we've retired from full-time jobs, we're learning how to just sit and revel in the joy of living. We like to go to the front porch with a book or the newspaper, knowing we'll get distracted from reading by all the little critters out in the yard. So I thought a bird feeder would be just the perfect gift.

I didn't have great expectations for this feeder. It's rather small, and my sister had warned me that it might take a while for the birds to "discover" it. She'd had that experience with her feeder; in fact, she felt a little rejected by her birds until her husband, a man wise in the ways of wild animals, explained that somehow the word would get out amongst the feathered population that goodies were to be had for the taking at a new location nestled right over the head of her garden angel. So I figured that patience would be required.

The helpful young woman at Wild Birds Unlimited got me all set up with a sturdy feeder and lots of spicy bird seed and suet that she assured me would NOT attract squirrels. For some reason, I didn't want a feeder that proclaimed itself "squirrel-proof." Something about those contraptions was off-putting: they were just a bit too high tech for our modest yard. And I didn't believe they were squirrel-proof, anyway. I've had too much experience with the intelligence of squirrels (high) and the way they can sniff out anything edible (uncanny).

So now the bird feeder hangs from the little dogwood in the side yard, far enough away from the porch so we can watch without being intrusive. And sure enough, my sister was right: the word is out. At first we had a few fly-bys. It was almost as if the older birds (mostly cardinals, both male and female) were checking it out for the young ones. Now, after the feeder has been there for two months, we almost can't keep up with the demand.

How, I wonder, do the birds come to this life-or-death decision? After all, they are perching on a foreign object eating food from an unknown source - and inviting all their friends and relatives to join them. There must be communication at a level we can't even imagine. Of course they have remarkable eyesight, a heightened sense of smell and split-second reflexes - but still. For a tiny bird, every moment must have its own dangers. Yet they seem to love this feeder.

I'm also struck by how much joy we've taken from this whole experience. As I tiptoe into this third thirty of my life, I vow to stretch every minute into its full 60 seconds of time. What a wonderful gift an uninterrupted moment can be! And I guess I've realized that these birds have been living in my yard for all these years, and by the greatest of good luck I've finally figured that out.

I voted FOR him - not AGAINST her

I'm getting pretty tired of all the columns and op-ed pieces and Letters to the Editor voicing all kinds of opinions about Hillary Clinton's loss in the Democratic presidential primary race. I'm an admirer of Sen. Clinton. I'm a woman, one who grew up in the first half of the 20th century, married, raised a family and grew older in the second half, and who is just as adamant as the next baby-boomer, college-educated, used-to-be-a-hippie Democrat that it's long past time for a woman in the White House. I would cheerfully go to the polls and vote for Sen. Clinton if she were the Democratic candidate - without holding my nose, which I've had to do more than once for some Democratic men over the years.

BUT - I voted for Barack Obama. I live in Florida so I knew my vote didn't mean a whole lot, but I take voting pretty seriously - and I knew the Florida vote would have an impact far beyond any ceremonial procedure enacted on the floor of the Democratic Convention in August. It was such a thrill to have a choice between these two, and I fully appreciated the unaccustomed luxury of knowing either choice would be acceptable. But for the first time since I pinned my hopes on Sen. Eugene McCarthy in 1968, I had a candidate to support wholeheartedly.

And that's what I did. I most emphatically did not vote AGAINST Hillary; I voted FOR Barack Obama.

Hey, World! We're having an election over here!

Hey, World! We're having an election over here!
All the sturm und drang surrounding the Democratic Party primaries and caucuses hasn't bothered me too much; actually, I've found it a bit refreshing. I've seen Sen. Obama twice and Mrs. Obama once, and I've listened to Sen. Clinton on television and in Internet videos. I love hearing intelligent people speak well; I've always loved words and have respected anyone's ability to use them well. It's been a joy, especially as compared to our recent history.

The past eight years in America have been grim. It's felt to me as though we've been wandering in our very own 100-Acre Wood, much like Pooh, and have developed a collective longing for someone to hack through the underbrush and get us back to our familiar path. The American presidency is such a complex idea: we look to our leader not only for strength in the face of adversity and resolve in times of threat, we have also always relied on our President to set the tone for the nuts-and-bolts issues of our daily lives.

Some of the institutions we take for granted, like public libraries, public education, safe highways and public health services, have been models for the rest of the world. Yet in the past years, many of these institutions have been allowed to decline in quality, and I fear that we've not noticed and won't notice until they're almost nonexistent. I know I'm not the only person in America who feels this way - I speak every day to people who feel as I do, and also feel as helpless as I do to stop what seems like a slide into mediocrity. We are sacrificing the very institutions that make America the best country in the world for actual living, day to day. And for what?

A good leader has a sensitive finger on the pulse of what really matters to his or her constituency. Sometimes we need our leaders to define what matters to 300 million folks who are so busy they don't have time to pay attention. And eight years of leadership that has operated in isolation from the people, in denial of failed policies and poor decisions, and appearing to be in total lockstep with some very self-serving special interests has resulted in a deep national depression - what former President Carter identified as a "great national malaise."

SO - let's have a good, old-fashioned, knock-down, drag-out, let-it-all-hang-out election. Let's air everyone's opinions, let's give everyone the chance to vote (and actually count all the votes accurately this time). Let's allow small groups like New Hampshire and Iowa and North Carolina and even Puerto Rico to have some impact. Let's remind the world how democracy works, in all its messy glory.

And at the end of this whole process - let's get back to what we do best. Let's be our brother's keeper in the best sense of that phrase. Let's repair our roads, expand our library hours, give our nurses and teachers a raise, stop the terrible waste of lives and treasure in unwinnable conflicts. Let's reward our soldiers and sailors appropriately with an invigorated GI Bill. Let's put our remarkable talent for innovation into solving the problems of no clean water, no proper medicines, not even enough food in some of our global sister nations. Let's all strive to support new ideas in the budding areas of sustainable environments and medical research into gene-based cures. Let's get back to working on the problems of crime, drug use, poverty and lack of good health care -problems that we had made such a great start on before we lost our way.

More than ever, our country needs leadership. Our new President can pull us out of our depression, give us back our optimism, jolt us out of our partisanship back into a concern for each other.

Hey, World - look out! I think America may be swinging for the fences again.