Did you miss me?
I took last week off from writing so that I could enjoy a weekend getaway with my husband to New York City. We had a grand time eating out at nice restaurants, going to see a show, visiting the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and walking through Central Park. But that was vacation. Now I’m back to work.
And I’m feeling stuck. When I started writing to you in November I was feeling dispirited but also energized. Our country had just elected a president whom I do not admire and my congressional district had just re-elected a representative that, more often than not, supports policies with which I disagree. But I was determined that if I took the time to be politically engaged, wrote to you regularly, showed up at your town hall meetings, tried to work together with people with whom I disagreed, that things would be okay.
Four months later, I don’t think it’s working out very well.
I’ve been faithfully writing to you and following your website, facebook page, and any time you’re interviewed. You’ve been conducting Town Hall meetings and heroically listening to people tell you how much they dislike what you’re doing.
But it feels like each of our efforts are futile. Each week, your party proposes some new initiative following up on your promises to undo the policies of the previous presidential administration. They valued flexibility on immigration; you’re building a wall. They valued an expanded role for the government in ensuring more health-care coverage; you’re proposing a more market-based approach that has fewer protections for the poor and elderly. They valued environmental initiatives to curb climate change and protect air and water; you’re rescinding regulations on oil, gas, and mining. They valued using the federal court system to ensure civil rights; you’re supporting judges who want to allow different states to come to different conclusions about issues like abortion and gay marriage.
And everything that your party tries to do is met with howls of protest. Some of my friends take the position that everything your party is trying to do must be terribly wrong just because your party is trying to do it.
We all belong to teams. And we’re treating politics like a competitive sport. If your team wins then my team loses. That’s how sports work.
Here’s an example from this week. Even though the Republican alternative to the ACA has been widely criticized (the AARP, for example, came out against it), you cheerily went to the White House to be praised by the president for supporting it. And the people in your district who have been angrily showing up to all your town hall meetings, wailed with fury. They feel hopeless. You’ve been so patiently attending all these meetings. Did it make no difference?
Your team supports undoing the basic structures of the ACA even if older people lose coverage. The other team will not support anything you propose, I suspect, even it’s more sensible than what you put forward this week. We are at an impasse.
Doesn’t it feel sometimes like the two political parties are in a failed marriage? I wish, sometimes, that I could put the party leadership in a room with a counselor or mediator. You know that exercise where you have to describe the other person’s perspective in a way that they could endorse? Do you think that would be helpful?
I’m not sure what to tell you, Tom. I’m feeling frustrated. Neither party is behaving well. I need to get around to writing or calling to my Democratic senators to tell them that I’m tired of their strategy of opposing everything, just for the sake of being oppositional.
But I’m stubborn. So I’m going to keep writing to you and telling you how I feel. I may never get a personal acknowledgement that you have any idea I’m out here, but it makes me feel like at least I’m doing something.
Not giving up,