This Post Is Not About Palin Or Obama

From an interview with Michelle Obama, beginning with her reminiscence of her first job as an attorney:

"'That was what you were supposed to do after going to a good law school: go to a big firm and make money. When you're a kid like me who paid for her education on loans, the idea of making more money than both your parents combined ever made is one you don't walk away from. Two years in, I was doing fine, enjoying it, but I wasn't bounding out of bed in the morning.'
In the summer of 1989, as the now-familiar narrative goes, Michelle was assigned to mentor a first-year Harvard Law student Sidley [her firm] had hired for the summer. She found the tall young man with the unusual name rather importunate; he kept asking her for dates. But when she learned about his life before law school, as a community organizer among laid-off factory workers in Chicago, she was impressed. Ice cream followed, then a Spike Lee movie.
Six months later, Michelle's beloved father died from complications of his MS. Around the same time, her best friend from college . . . died from lymphoma at [age] 25. The two blows in quick succession made her question her career. 'I thought, if I died tomorrow, is this what I want to have done with my life? And the answer was a resounding no!'

Everyone who spoke to me once during the campaign -- or read this blog, for that matter -- probably realizes how much Sarah Palin got on my nerves. What I didn't really say much about is that Michelle Obama also got on my nerves. The title of this blog is true, though, because I recently realized that neither Sarah nor Michelle are really the problem.

Don't get me wrong: Sarah Palin is still an undereducated, incomprehensible lightweight, and Michelle is still a little too insincere in her silence. But here's what's going on: it's the Danielle Steel effect.

Danielle Steel has written SEVENTY-FOUR bestselling novels. Every 10 years or so, I get one of them and start to read it, usually with an eye to figuring out how the *(^%! you write 74 bestsellers. The thing is, she's a terrible writer. Really, truly terrible. She's great at plot -- that's all she knows how to do, and it's enough for most people (apparently). But when I read the first few pages of one of her books, I get so annoyed I feel like setting it on fire -- because I should be the one writing for a living. I am SO much better at it. This petulant, self-important pity-party kicks into gear every time Danielle comes near.

I think the truth is (it's hard to admit this) Sarah Palin triggers the Danielle Steel effect in me. She's a terrible policy person. Really, truly terrible. She's beautiful, and she's great at the Joe Six-Pack stuff, although one can debate whether that's enough to write a bestselling campaign -- but it's enough for at least some people. It's enough to get to the ballot. When I see Palin on TV, or read about her in the paper, I get so annoyed -- because I should be the one doing that. I would be SO much better at it. I have gotten awards for oral argument and public speaking, I am authentically midwestern myself (I even have a little twang), and what policy issues I don't understand, I could learn with a couple of good briefing books and 24 hours. I'm no beauty queen, but I could get a stylist and a Neiman Marcus card and at least look better than Hillary Clinton. Lord knows I could hold my own with Katie Couric. And yet, she, not I, is the bestseller.

Michelle Obama is in some ways even worse for me. The quote above could have been taken from dozens of conversations I've had with friends. Heck, I even dated summer associates. But when I had my wake-up call (in my case, a bout with bleeding ulcers and other health problems), my solution was to downsize and step back, not to turn left and head a different direction. I didn't become an assistant to the mayor or head up a city agency. I looked for a job where I could work 4 days a week, where I could shift the focus of my life from career to family, relaxation and health. Well, I love and adore my family, and am proud of the fact that I created it, but I have achieved neither relaxation nor health, and 1 out of 3 isn't so great. And more than that, Michelle makes me doubt that I had the right idea. She makes me think that I should have found a calling instead -- that I should have continued to use my brain and my drive to achieve something -- anything.

I guess the point is, I watch Michelle Obama on the stump, and I think: I could be her. But I'm not. I think -- I know -- that this sort of thought occasionally haunts every woman who stays at home, or who puts her career on the back burner for reasons that are perfectly valid. For me, this path I chose is probably the only one I could have begun to maintain during the traumas of the past year and a half. I think it's okay, though, to sort of live with that discomfort. We really can't have it all -- at the same time. I know there will be other seasons in my life. This one doesn't have to be a Michelle/Danielle/Sarah moment. It's a Mama moment.

Au Pairs

The down side to an au pair's arrival: she makes you feel like you have to clean out every closet in your house. Which, of course, you don't have time to do, because if you did, you wouldn't need an au pair.

The up side is a very sweet girl, who helps with the baby and washes dishes and walks the dog and gives you hugs and tells you how happy she is to be here.

Speechless

I Can't Move to Canada

This morning I drove past the White House. I saw the White House out of my car window as I was driving down to the law offices where I volunteered for Election Protection. It was overwhelming, the privilege of helping my fellow citizens to make their voices heard within a stone's throw of the very seat of power. I turned left on 15th Street and passed the Corcoran Gallery, where Richard Avedon's installation, "Portraits of Power," is featured. On the building's facade, a huge banner hung to advertise the show, displaying a strong photograph of a confident Ronald Reagan, big as a Macy's Thanksgiving balloon. I went past the Department of the Treasury, a French structure that always makes me think of Thomas Jefferson, and then a couple of blocks later, the FDIC and the Office of Thrift Supervision. This city has become an old glove to me, and sometimes I really have to stop and notice the history and power all around me. It doesn't take much to bring out the politico in any Washingtonian. Your grocery checker, the parking guy, your pediatrician, the neighbors here in D.C. talk politics more readily than most normal people would be accustomed to. But based on what I'm seeing on TV and hearing on the radio, today in particular is bringing out the political junkies all around the country. The calls I took at the Election Protection hotline warmed my heart, as they have in the past two elections, with the real motivation and determination average Americans convey in expressing their desire to vote.

I wish I had done more. I wish that I had, especially at this time of inspiration that even surpasses what I felt at the very beginning of Bill Clinton's first presidency, at a time when two or maybe even three Supreme Court seats will most likely come up for grabs, and at a moment when I can almost believe that my ideals are not so different from those of my countrymen and women. I have felt like an outsider in my own country, and have been so disgusted for so long with the way the Bush Administration has trampled the Constitution and made a mockery of so many things that matter to me, I should have done more. As soon as I realized that Barack Obama was running, I should have gone straight to the nearest field office, walked in and said, "what can I do?"

Now, there are a lot of reasons I didn't do that, and one of them is called Abby. But the truth is, I could have at least gone canvassing for a few hours one weekend. I could even have taken my kids along. If Barack wins tonight, I'm going to make a pledge that the next time I want to support a candidate, I will do something more than just make calls or send a check. I will go out and work for it.

Make A Difference

This morning I heard two stories on the radio that made me literally cry in the shower with pure happiness and optimism.

First, a middle-aged black man had lined up and waited (at that point) 3 hours to cast an early ballot in Los Angeles county. When the interviewer held the mic up, he said, "This is gonna make a difference. You don't understand, I ain't never done this in my whole life. But this, this is gonna make a difference!" The real joy and optimism and determination in his voice, not to mention what he'd gone through to cast that ballot, set the waterworks going the first time.

Second, an older white woman in the town of Walsh, Colorado (pop. 700), was reported to have become a bit of a political junkie, for the first time following polls and pundits online any time she had a spare minute. The interviewer asked her what in the world she was going to do starting Wednesday, with all that free time she had. She said, "I don't know, I suppose go back to my reality shows or something . . . or, maybe, I hope, maybe all this will make me want to keep up and interested in what happens next."

God willing, that will happen to most Americans. Could we really, truly be at the beginning of a time when political debates regularly garner more viewers than the American Idol finale (and I'm no enemy of American Idol)? Could it be that people will be either so inspired, or so disgusted, whichever, by this campaign and its results that there will be a renaissance of political interest and involvement. I hope so!

Tomorrow once again I will be working the hotline phones at Election Protection, a nonpartisan effort of the Voting Rights Project of the National Lawyers' Committee for Civil Rights Under Law (who really need a better name). I and 24 of my pals in DC (and others in other cities) will be answering calls from around the country helping people to understand and exercise their right to vote, and sending volunteers in person to polling places where people are in danger of being wrongly disenfranchised. The number is in an earlier post. Whether you're canvassing your neighborhood, sporting a lawn sign or bumper sticker, discussing the evening news or teaching your children about democracy, please get involved and, most importantly of all, please vote.

No Offense, Abe

Someone sent me an email with a quote attributed to Abraham Lincoln. The sentiments were right-wing, conservative to the core. This particular person has sent me these kinds of emails for 21 months now, and I have never responded, out of respect for the sender. Today, for some reason, this broke the camel's back. I think it was because the email quoted Lincoln, a great hero and someone who would have been very proud of Barack Obama's candidacy, I think. I'm not sure it's a real quote, and I'm sure the context in which he spoke was relevant to his words and is now unknowable. Anyway, I responded.

During this political season let's spend some time discussing the wise words attributed to President Lincoln.

You cannot help the poor by destroying the rich.

You cannot help the poor by allowing the rich to make record salaries, record bonuses, record profits, all on the backs of everyday Americans at the gas station, grocery store, military housing (because let’s not pretend that soldiers make enough money for what they do), and on tax day. You can argue about who exactly is rich, but it’s pretty obvious who exactly is poor.

You cannot strengthen the weak by weakening the strong.

The chain is only as strong as its weakest link. If our kids aren’t learning enough, if our adults are job-trained enough, if people who fought in our wars live in cardboard boxes on the streets, if kids can’t afford to go to the dentist and senior citizens can’t afford their prescriptions, then this country’s alleged strength is a house of cards.

You cannot bring about prosperity by discouraging thrift.

Thrift is defined as “careful management, especially of money.” Was it the average cop, Wal-Mart worker, teacher, or even lawyer, doctor or accountant who mismanaged their money to the point of collapsing the entire economy and now bringing the world economy to the brink of disaster? Or was it the “prosperous” -- those who spent their days dreaming up new Rube Goldberg machines of finance to make themselves richer with sums of money that to them were for playing Monopoly, but to the average family in western Pennsylvania would mean a few years’ worth of income? The encouragement of “thrift” has been code language since the time of the robber barons, used to disdainfully argue that the poor deserve to be so by some failure of character.

You cannot lift the wage earner up by pulling the wage payer down.

This statement is only true if the wage payer is paying fair wages to its workers, not just reaping astronomical profits and paying them in giant sums to the highest executives, even after those executives get fired or drag the company down into the depths of bankruptcy or worthlessness, destroying pensions and jobs for thousands of people along the way. If the wage payer acts in this way, being brought down a peg is exactly what it needs.

You cannot further the brotherhood of man by inciting class hatred.

You cannot further the brotherhood of man by creating and endorsing a doctrine of preemptive war (even against despots and dictators), by ignoring the advice and counsel of allies, and by playing up fears and encouraging jingoistic and meaningless expressions of patriotism. Instead, as a nation, we must be proud of our roots in freedom and tolerance, and back up our mighty military power, grit and steely determination with the courage of moral conviction as well and by doing more than paying lip service to those who serve bravely in uniform and their families.

Furthermore, the specter of “class hatred” is only raised when the have-nots start speaking up about that fact. When those who mindlessly acquire, those to whom creating wealth is a game and a pastime, treat others as not worthy of regard, when they fritter away pensions, raise the price of heating oil, spend more money running ads for medications we don’t need than either developing new ones or helping people afford those pills they really do need, no one calls that class hatred. They don’t even call it what it is -- appalling dehumanization of fellow countrymen.

You cannot build character and courage by taking away people' s initiative and independence.

“Four years ago, I stood before you and told you my story, of the brief union between a young man from Kenya and a young woman from Kansas who weren't well-off or well-known, but shared a belief that in America their son could achieve whatever he put his mind to. It is that promise that's always set this country apart, that through hard work and sacrifice each of us can pursue our individual dreams, but still come together as one American family, to ensure that the next generation can pursue their dreams, as well. That's why I (Barack Obama) stand here tonight (at the convention). Because for 232 years, at each moment when that promise was in jeopardy, ordinary men and women -- students and soldiers, farmers and teachers, nurses and janitors -- found the courage to keep it alive.”

You cannot help people permanently by doing for them, what they could and should do for themselves.

If Abraham Lincoln in fact spoke these words, we know some things about the context in which they were spoken. We know that he didn’t believe that people could free themselves from slavery. We know that he didn’t believe that the northern states could fight the southern all by themselves. We know that as President he ignored warmongers in his government and defused a potential war with Britain, that he did what we would now call “reaching across the aisle” to invite his former adversaries into his Cabinet, and that he supported moderation in the Reconstruction effort, carefully and diplomatically seeking a generous reconciliation among the factions of Americans. As a legislator, he spoke out against the Mexican-American war and offered “Spot Resolutions,” demanding to know the exact spot on U.S. soil where blood was first spilled in war. Speaking out against the general pro-war sentiment at the time, Lincoln said: “God in heaven has forgotten to defend the weak and innocent . . . .” With respect to civil liberties, Lincoln was instrumental in forming the Republican party, which was once based on the principles of republicanism, at its base respecting the liberty of citizens by settling on laws that cannot be arbitrarily ignored by those in power and changed or shaped at the whim of the Executive. As John Adams put it, “they define a republic as a government of laws, not of men.”

So, without offending Mr. Lincoln, I hope, I would offer the following:

A nation cannot be strong without helping the weakest within.
America cannot be leader of the free world, and cannot bring others to freedom, without educating ourselves about, and experiencing compassion for, the nations, and one cannot do those things without a free exchange of ideas and perspectives with other peoples.
The strong need not fear the weak, but should fear their own basest instincts.
One cannot absolve oneself of making one’s fair contribution to the common good by complaining that others aren’t.
Finally, we are our brother’s keeper, we are our sister’s keeper. We cannot continue to call ourselves a Christian nation if we ignore the call to care for the least of these, the weak, the mourning, the poor, the sick, the imprisoned and, yes, even our enemies. Our values, not our bombs nor our money, have always made us the most admired nation on earth and led us to a greatness unsurpassed in human history.

p.s. You might think that I am really getting a kick out of all this, being the political junkie I am. Actually, the opposite is true. I am so sick of it, my stomach hurts. I can't stand the discord. I can't wait until tomorrow is over.