my pink toes

I always cry at some point on Election Day. It's often on my way to work, as I witness people on opposing sides of the issues standing on the opposing sides of one street, each freely able to express their views without fear. Sometimes it's after dropping my ballot in the box. Tonight, it was during John McCain's concession speech.

I admire much about John McCain. In 2000, he was my favorite candidate in the primaries. Had he pulled a "Lieberman" and gone Independent in 2004, I would have strongly considered voting for him. I didn't like the 2008 McCain, probably because in order to gather the Republican support, he had to take stands on many issues that I don't believe in. I am an unabashed liberal, but I admired his original willingness to take a stand and speak his mind.

Clearly in this election, I was pulling for Obama. I put my time and my money and my voice behind him. I am very glad he won, but this night I was moved the most by John McCain.

McCain invoked everything that is beautiful about America: hope, unity, belief in cooperation and valuing each other's differences. He spoke eloquently about our America, this country that we ALL love. He hushed his supporters when they tried to boo, and made them listen as he praised Obama's sacrifice, tenacity, and strength and purity of character. He encouraged his supporters to help Obama and to come together. "Whatever our differences, we are fellow Americans," McCain said. He walked us through the historic moment that this election is to us. He reminded us that just a short while ago, Blacks in this country were treated so unfairly that an invitation for an African American to dine in the White House was seen as scandalous. Now a Black person will be living in the White House and that is truly historic indeed.

McCain emphasized that he ran for President for the same reason that Obama did: because they are both so committed to this great nation and love America so much they would do anything to further her cause. McCain also showed his class by stating that running for President was his proudest acheivement. “Today, I was a candidate for the highest office in the country I love so much, and tonight, I remain her servant,” he said. So often we get so obsessed with winning, that we forget that the process is just as important. McCain reminded us that fighting for what you believe in is more important than winning.

Thank you, John McCain, for reminding us, for reminding ME of that which is so true and so dear. America is a precious nation because we can have differences and yet come together. That the good of ALL people is our highest goal, and that Red and Blue, Republican and Democrat is not what should define us. What defines us is our belief that WE are America and that we all have responsibility to each other.

Filed Under "This American Experiment" on November 04, 2008 | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

Very funny (yet inappropriate to some) video. I really needed this laugh today.

[h/t to Mindy]

BONUS: I'm not going post this play-on-words graphic here, but if you click on it, you MAY get a laugh.

[h/t to She's a Rebel, She's a Saint for this one (I think that's where I saw it, anyway...)]

Filed Under "Let's Go Surfin' Now...(www), This American Experiment" on September 28, 2008 | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

McCain’s choice of Sarah Palin for VP has brought many women’s issues front and center. I often avoid discussing these issues because, well, because I’m a bit chicken. Although most of my politics tend to be pretty left-wing, some of my views are not. It’s pretty much guaranteed that in this post I’ll offend everyone. Good thing I’ve worked through some of my “pleaser” issues in counseling…

This entry started as a response to an entry on a friend's blog, but I thought I'd move it over here and flesh it out a bit. As part of his interesting take on the issues, my friend Alan asks, “Is it valid to question why with a family of four children would you be trying for a fifth when you’re occupying the state’s top position and well out on the bell curve of healthy pregnancies?” And I thought, “Whoa there, good buddy – you are making one hell of a presumption in that statement. You are presuming that the Palins were indeed TRYING for a fifth baby. Actually, you're making another presumption, too: you are presuming that birth control always works."

I’m thinking that it’s pretty obvious that they were NOT trying for a fifth and that baby Trig was the proverbial “accident”. I know that if I were the one in that situation, I would not be TRYING for another baby. I don’t know many women who had older children and were on the cusp of a swinging political (or any) career that would try for another child.

I think that what happened instead was more complicated, and more common, than we may want to believe. In the United States, 40-50% of pregnancies – in or out of marriage – are unintended. Sarah kept her pregnancy secret until month 7, even from her family – if you’ve been pregnant, you know how difficult that must have been – especially on someone so trim and fit. I think her reluctance to tell was indicative of the time it took her to adjust to her new, unplanned reality.

To have an abortion would have made Sarah Palin’s life easier in some ways. Her daughter Bristol’s life would perhaps be easier with the same choice. They acted on their beliefs and chose to keep the babies, but I think their choices also point out the major (insurmountable?) difference between men’s and women’s rights: only women can get pregnant and the results of that in the right circumstances are blessed and amazing; in less-than-ideal circumstances, the results are blessed yet difficult.

Sex and babies are complicated issues. Even those of us that choose to save sex for the instances within God’s parameters (between a husband and wife, according to my particular beliefs) have difficult, and often inconvenient, decisions to make. Sarah had no choice (given her beliefs, and mine) but to keep the pregnancy. But I know if I were in her shoes I’d be pretty devastated - I don’t plan to have more children myself, and another pregnancy at this point in my life would be very inconvenient. Am I callous talking about children this way? Maybe. But it is a reality in this world of longer life expectancies, more opportunities for women, and the truth that even the best birth control has a failure rate.

Dave and I (well, ok - so it was Dave) had a vasectomy as part of our family planning, but even those can fail. (I personally know 2 people with post- vasectomy “surprises”). I know that with God’s help we’d work through an unexpected pregnancy – even one with a Downs or otherwise-disabled child - but it would be unwelcome, and complicated.

I think part of the abortion/sex/women’s rights/contraception debate is missing if we fail to acknowledge the reality that birth control is not 100% effective. Even in marriage, only abstinence is the fail-proof plan. I personally believe God created sex as more than just for procreation, so I am NOT advocating abstinence. So as someone who participates in (and enjoys!) God-ordained, married sex, I have to accept the reality that pregnancies are always, always a possibility.

I also believe that having the choice in how we deal with this reality should always be a possibility

Filed Under "Putting My Foot in It, This American Experiment" on September 07, 2008 | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

Happy Loving Day!
from wikipedia.

I know I'm lucky to live in an urban center on the West Coast where such multi-racial families are so prevalent. I have many friends who are kids of such relationships, or in a relationship of such themselves. It doesn't seem like a big deal to me. But, I am totally white myself (whatever that means, really) and married a very pasty white guy. Our kids are really white. In fact, my youngest has white-blond hair (he's a novelty to my Brazilian friends). I am not naive enough to assume we no longer struggle with this issue in America.

I was also encouraged by the fact that one of the current presidential candidates is a product of a mixed-race marriage himself. If we as a nation could put up for election a mixed-race man with black heritage (which I think is still harder for our country to swallow than, say, mixed-race Asian couples....but feel free to beat me up in the comments if you disagree!), then we have come far, indeed.

Along these same lines, the Forbes Most Powerful Celebrities list is topped by a black woman - Oprah Winfrey. She is followed by Tiger Woods, who has a multi-racial ethnicity. The top ten is pretty mulit-ethnic...but with the exception of Woods, I don't see any other Asian celebrities listed. Latin/Hispanics are under-represented as well, with Alex Rodriguez being the only member of the top 25. So I'm encouraged by this news, but realize we still have a ways to go.

So, what do you think? Are you in a "mixed-race" relationship? Are you the child of a "mixed-race" couple? What have your experiences been? Have we come a long way? How far do we have left to go?

Filed Under "Putting My Foot in It, This American Experiment" on June 12, 2008 | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

I know that Barack Obama is not a Muslim consipirator plotting against Christians.
I know that Barack Obama is not against the national anthem.

Despite continuing to campaign even though she can't statistically win the nomination, I'm assuming that Hillary Clinton is not against math.

Filed Under "This American Experiment" on May 09, 2008 | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

Washington state is a caucus state. We also have a primary election (on Tuesday, Feb 19). Why both? It's complicated.

Democrats are assigning all their delegates based on the results of tomorrow's caucus. Republicans are splitting their delegates 49/51 between the caucus and the primary. The primary vote for Democrats is purely advisory and non-binding.

I am mixed on the caucus system. On one hand, I like it because it gets people talking in groups about issues and candidates instead of just in their heads (or on their blogs - heh). On the other hand, caucuses favor the more passionate (extreme) in each party: for the Democrats, it's the far left - for the Republicans, it's the far right. You have to be pretty passionate and motivated to give up a huge chunk of a Saturday to congregate with argumentative neighbors in a cold and echo-y elementary school cafeteria. The most passionate tend to be those with more "extreme" views.

I'm going to caucus on Saturday. I think it's important to participate in the democratic (small "d") process, even if it's inconvenient or I don't have a specific "agenda". I have a candidate I believe in and want to get him as many delegates as I can.

Will you join me?
Click HERE for Democratic caucus locations
Click HERE for Republican caucus locations (King County)

See you at 1:00!

Filed Under "This American Experiment" on February 08, 2008 | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I am very torn between Clinton and Obama. I have a deep abiding passion and admiration for Hillary and have since the early 90s. I was exactly 20 when Bill Clinton was elected the first time, finishing up college and developing an awareness of where I fit in to society as a woman. I burned with rage at all the guff Hillary got for being too strong, for having an opinion, for having a brain, for not having a chocolate chip cookie recipe for heaven's sake! I appreciated Hillary and all she was doing (and had done through her lifetime) to promote women as capable, thinking leaders. I cheered when she became a Senator in New York. She was quite a role model to me for what women's place in politics or business could be. Even though I don't necessarily subscribe to Hillary's "brand" of feminism, I have great thanks for her work and others of her generation who blazed a trail for we younger women to follow. In her day, it did really have to be work OR family, politics OR chocolate chip cookies. Because of the work of her generation, we now have the option of doing things a bit differently, but we wouldn't have had that option without the sacrifices of those like Hillary.

But, and it's quite a big "but", I am extremely uncomfortable with the idea of another Clinton presidency. Not for reasons you might think (I actually really liked Bill, his personal moral failures aside). But because I'm very uncomfortable with the idea of 2 families running the United States for 24-28 years - an entire generation. We had Bush Sr, then Clinton, then Bush Jr.. Mrs. Clinton would make for a long string of the same folks in the White House (in her case, quite literally). It bothers me because we should be a nation without dynasties. We are so vast in area and so diverse in population that it strikes me as impossible that we could all agree that only two families should govern us in succession for such a long time. (Matthew at Defective Yeti has a great argument about this - and he's way more thoughtful AND much funnier than I am.)

Which is why I am really excited about Obama. He has little to no connection with the Bush/Clinton power bases. I also really like the fact that he's Black. It's about damn time someone other than a white male ran this (increasingly non-white) country. I know race is not the only issue (as gender is not the only issue with Hillary) but I also am not so naive as to pretend it's not an important issue. I like the way he motivates people. I like the way he inspires people. As far as the ISSUES go, um yeah - I should probably to a bit more research on those. But I like Obama a lot.

Also, I think the Republicans all secretly want Hillary to win the nomination. I think they roll around in their sleep, laughing gleeful laughs about how awesome it will be to trounce her in the run-up to the general election. I think that fewer Republican-ish swing voters will be able to bring themselves to vote for Hillary. Remember all the vilification she took when Mr. Clinton was president? The Republicans are salivating, bucking like horses at the gate, waiting to unleash on her in the general election. I think she's much less electable than Obama in the long run.

Here is where Dave points out that I haven't even bothered to mention who I like in the Republican party. Um, yeah. I'm not-so-much a swing voter, but that's probably an issue for a different entry. I *did* really like McCain in 2000, when the Democratic options were so very 'meh'. (I think Gore has found a much better niche for himself promoting Global Warming awareness. If anyone could win an Oscar for a PowerPoint presentation, then my hat is off to him!). John Kerry didn't inspire me in 2004, but I couldn't abide voting for another 4 years of Bush.

Anyway, I guess I'm an Obama supporter - or a "Barack-Star" as my friend likes to say. But I feel a bit guilty about it. I still love you, Hillary! I admire what you've done babe, and just wish you didn't happen to have already been in the White House.

Although, how cool would it be to have "President Bill and President Hillary Clinton" on your return address labels?

Filed Under "This American Experiment" on February 05, 2008 | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

1890s Voting Machine
from Wikipedia

I remember the first time I showed up and was given a sharpie and a mark-sense ballot instead of a punch card. It was easier to read and conceivably more accurate than punch cards (remember Florida in 2000?), but something was missing. I already bypassed the booths and levers system by virtue of not being born until 1972, but even the folding platforms that held our punch cards had a sort of formality to them - the way we had to slide them in the holder just right, and the satisfying whap the metal-rimmed pages made as we turned them, following the long ballots. A sharpie and a bubble form felt more like the SATs than an election. I used to take my little "cheat sheets" in with me to the booth, guiding me on how to punch my ballot after spending hours researching the various elections. Soon, the voting process will be entirely isolated - instead of just making my cheat sheets at the dining room table, everyone everywhere will be coloring in the circles and licking envelopes. The sound of voting will be the fwop of an envelope landing in a mailbox.

But regardless of how we vote: by mail, by Sharpie, by punch or by lever...or even by show of hands - the important this is that we get to vote. This is what moved me to tears as I stepped back into the parking lot, dodging the other stragglers running in to cast their last-minute votes. We get to be here. It is a regular day. No one bullied me or my family, no one shot at me as I walked up to vote. My vote will be counted - it is not a sham to keep the powerful from losing their station. Each person's vote counts the same: we are each ONE person, ONE vote. It's a miracle, really. A tiny, enormous, wonderful, hope-inspiring miracle.

I am so grateful to have the opportunity. So grateful that this American Experiment works.

Filed Under "This American Experiment" on November 06, 2007 | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)