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.