Election day- November 7, 2023. I vote and then head to the diner. Settled in my booth- French toast, bacon, coffee and Democracy Awakening Notes on the State of America by Heather Cox Richardson- I stare at the screen. What can I say to you?
The Merriam Webster Dictionary calls you a “government by the people especially : rule of the majority.” The majority- scary prospect for some- I could be included or not at any given moment depending on the issue, the company, or the fine print. And I hear the pushback scrolled on social media- the clever schooling from camp constitution to camp individual freedom – America is a republic. Well, yes and sorta yes. U.S. Congressman James Clyburn’s website sums it up nicely. America is a federal democratic republic, established by our constitution, which claims that anyone living in America has the inherent rights of self-government and separation of powers.
Today is the day that every American has the right to vote for officials to represent them! And according to our constitution we’ll be represented in a way that preserves order and reflects the will of the people! I chew on that along with French toast, gerrymandering and voter suppression laws.
Democracy, is it us or is it you? Are you too good for us? Is it the hubris of a nation stolen from indigenous people and built by people enslaved- that claims to be a beacon of freedom, yet indifferently gorges on bacon while books are banned and school boards serve extreme conservative political interests?
And there you go again, Democracy. Making me call you out for being so darn elusive – making me point out these enduring hypocrisies. I might as well be covered in blue paint, with my liberal democrat sash tied around me so the conservatives and progressives can each jeer in turn about how I’ve gone too far or not gone far enough. As the woman in the booth next to me said, “I’m always voting against something, not for something.” Cheers to that, I say, as I raise a coffee mug to someone who voted for someone who won’t win (and breathing a silent sigh of relief.)
I need more from you. That’s what I’m saying here. Heather Cox Richardson gave me a thousand foot view, and according to her you’ve always been with us. We’ve had a slow, imperfect advance towards embracing you, but took a sharp turn in the 1930s when FDR rolled out the New Deal. Still it wasn’t until Nixon came to power in the 1960s, which paved the way for Reagan and eventually Trump to advance towards authoritarianism. And now our government is to democracy as nighttime travel on a racy highway is to your final destination- high, loopy and arrival in one piece not guaranteed.
Can we agree on anything? Can we agree on what you are? Is politics performance? Or can it also be conversation? Something we continue to show up for because we can’t give up on humanity. Because whether we like it or not, participate or not, it is a reflection of us.
No offense, Democracy, but I think you’re full of it. We need much more than you. You are a word, an ideal we prop up and pretend to be equal to, while we each make peace with the lengths we will and won’t go to make sure other people can love you as much as we do. What we really need are systematic changes that cultivate empathy.
Less calling out and more conversation. The understanding that learning is not an elitist exercise. The realization that yes, knowledge really is power, and hiding knowledge is a power grab.
I don’t wish for a world where anyone feels powerless. And here we are again searching for you among the rubble of our binary choices. Making it easy for us to find an excuse not to vote. Democracy, again you are on the ballot. It’s clear to me where the idea of you is. I want to vote for you, so we can at least descend the highway to a place of relative safety. But I want to do much more than vote to preserve some hope of you.
When I vote for you I do it without claiming any moral authority to know you better than any other voter or non-voter. And while I’ll never give up on trying to make this country and this world a more just place, I do let go of the expectation that I’ll live to see what you can be in all your spectacular glory. And this kindles a small flame of hope that maybe I’ll see more of you than I expect.
Because at the end of the day I want to sit across from someone I disagree with, and I want to feel safe sharing my disagreement and perhaps even my conviction steeped in knowledge with the hope that this someone will see it as a gift and not a threat. I want to know the limitations of outrage and the power of action. I want to understand empathy as revolution.
We are born into our skin, families, history, geography, planet without choice. We choose learning and learning leads to growth. My vote is to keep the possibility of growth alive. More learning, less fear.
With Expectations,
An American Voter
