Disagreement, Anyone?

Saturday evening Jenna and I went to a Unite for Change party in our neighborhood. Our hostess, Linda, opened her home at 36th and Wolff to about 30 assorted friends, acquaintances, and strangers. I learned of the event by entering our zip code at my.barackobama.com, an official website of the Obama campaign. For those who haven't been there, the concept appears effective, if a little creepy (my Barack Obama?). Log in and learn about events being hosted in your neighborhood, from house parties to voter registration drives to parades and speeches. If you don't see an event in your area, you can sign up to host one, on your terms, at your pleasure.

Saturday being the 28th of June and the so called "Unite for Change" day across the nation, Jenna and I were curious to go see what the hype amounted to. Our hostess provided soft drinks, beer, and wine, and the guests brought snacks. Food items ranged from chips and salsa to capresse salad appetizers to sun-dried tomato and pesto spread on whole grain crackers. A couple of the Obama Fellows were in attendance to co-host and facilitate the event. According to Obama's website on Sunday, some 25,000 people attended over 4,000 Unite for Change events nationwide.

We showed up at Linda's house, filled out our name tags and the appropriate forms to get on all the mailing lists (it's all about the lists, these campaigns), and introduced ourselves to the hostess, the handful of guests already present, and the food and drink table.

While we mingled and made chit-chat ("What do you do?" "How long have you been for Obama?" "Are you volunteering for the campaign?" "Can you get me on the floor at the Convention?"), more guests arrived, and soon the house was crowded with 30-some guests. We engaged the Fellows in conversation, both young men, one a recent graduate from Washington D.C. by way of West Virginia, the other an Indiana boy from firm, Republican steel magnate roots, exploring the great wide wilderness of Colorado and pursuing an education in economics and public policy at the University of Denver.

Eventually the Fellows cut the coffee talk short to show a video about the grassroots nature of the campaign and the philosophy behind Unite for Change and the various, volunteer-hosted events taking place across the country. The video is available on the Obama site, halfway down the screen on the right hand side of the Unite for Change page. No telling if it will still be there as you read this.

If there's one really good point that stood out from the whole video, it came early on when the candidate, in a casual, man-on-the-street type of talk with the camera, pointed out that the American people, if they are organized, can have a great impact on the way Washington works. But the people aren't organized right now. In their stead, big, corporate lobbying outfits, which are fastidiously well organized, set the tone for how business gets done in D.C. The rest of the video emphasized the importance of hosting more house parties and getting organized. There followed a catalog of personal testimonials and heart touching, "Ever since my son was born my heart has been ripped open to the way politics and the world work and I just need to be involved for my child's sake" type stuff. Of course it's good, but it's calculated to be good.

After the video, one of the Fellows told how he came to drink the Kool-Aid. Afterward, he invited us all to go around, introduce ourselves, and tell our version of why or how we came to the Unite for Change event that day. Though you may detect a jot of cynicism in my tone, I'll say that some of the stories were really exciting. For Democrats under 40 (and perhaps for broader demographics, as well) this is arguably the most exciting political season on record. What I found most stimulating in the collective narrative, however, came from those over 40, and more specifically the baby boomers, well represented at the event, who invariably testified that they haven't been this excited, nor this hopeful for our country, since 1968.

The personal accounts devolved into a lovefest, of course, but that's alright. It's a starting point. The question was finally raised as to how we turn this interest and this agreement into action, and also how we reach out to people who aren't infatuated with Obama, and encourage them to vote Democratic this year.

Two important points came from the discussion, I think. The first is to approach a potential voter with empathy. "What are the issues you care about most? What makes you worry? What is your greatest hope for the future?" Let the undecided voter talk and think, and then ask "Which candidate do you think cares more about those same things, and which will work harder to help realize them in our country?" It may be that the undecided voter picks the other guy in the course of answering the question, but that's okay. Seeds will be planted.

The other key point, for me, is that canvassing door to door is great, but how much better would it be to speak with undecided voters on their own terms? Instead of surprising a person at a bad time, how do we reach out and invite the undecided voters to come talk when they are ready? This, most definitely, is the conversation I want to encourage. As I sign up to volunteer for campaigns this season, door-to-door canvassing is definitely something I am willing to do. More exciting, however, is the party Jenna and I want to host in the coming weeks (once we move into our house and unpack, that is) with the specific goal of attracting undecided voters to our living room to talk about their questions, concerns, and hopes, and perhaps to talk about both candidates, even, and the positions that matter to American voters.

Here's the thing: If there's one lesson the last two presidential elections should have taught Democratic voters, is that it's no longer enough to simply show up and vote. We don't get to take it for granted that the right candidate, the one who combines thoughtfulness and leadership, is the one who will next inhabit the Oval Office. For this election year to turn out as America desperately needs, we've all got to get out and go work for it. Register some voters, talk to some people with whom we may not see eye to eye, and keep thinking forward about what comes next.

We'll send an invite for our party when the time is right, and everyone will be welcome. You'll understand, though, that you may not be the person we most want to talk to. This campaign season, the single most important work we do might actually be to get to know those with whom we initially disagree.

Democrats' Town Hall, June 23

Jenna and I went to a town hall meeting last Monday, featuring Rep. Joel Judd, Democrat of the Colorado House (District 5), and Rep. Andrew Romanoff, the outgoing Speaker of the Colorado House (District 6). It was a predictably tame event, though a few folks did press the congressmen for answers about the Governor's Blue Ribbon Commission on health care, and also on how much money funds treatment and studies for Colorado children with autism.

Romanoff, as the well-practiced speaker and ardent advocate of revamping the health care system, handled the first batch of questions pretty well. One thing he enjoys about being term-limited, and therefore not having a reelection campaign to consider, is that he can tell the truth without fearing the consequences that often accompany it. The system is broken, he said, and a complete overhaul is in order. He favors a single-payer system, and pointed to that as the only plan of the five proposals evaluated by the Governor's Blue Ribbon panel and examined by independent auditors that can offer coverage to all Coloradans without increasing prices (see here for the 208 Commission's final report).

Rep. Judd handled a question about autism with a little less savoir faire. Of course, Judd's own website reads "Not the noisiest guy at the Capital," so it's only fitting that he proved a bit less garrulous than the Speaker. Judd is the Chair of the Finance Committee and sits on the Appropriations Committee, so it may have been a little surprising, when the question came up about funding for autism research and treatment in Colorado, that he couldn't put a figure into play to try and answer the question. At the same time, Judd's easygoing lack of concern about not knowing came off, I think, rather well. Better a politician who will simply say those deceptively simple words "I don't know," than one who postures and blusters through a long answer amounting to about the same thing.

Also present at the meeting was Rep. Judd's Republican opponent.

Man Gets Bear?

This is a couple days old, but noteworthy all the same. A Boulder cyclist going 45 mph collided with a bear last Tuesday and came out alright. What's most interesting, perhaps? This isn't the first time it's happened in Boulder. Seriously.

Picking Up In Denver

It's been quite the layoff between posts, but I'm finally ready to poke my toes back in at blogwater's edge.

You'll notice, though the layout of this page hasn't changed, that I'm not in Oaxaca anymore. Jenna and I returned to Denver at the beginning of June, and after some time getting hired and getting settled--which we're still working on--I'm still very much looking at Denver with an outsider's eye. Which is fun, actually, because Denver's changed some in our absence, and excitement in the city feels pretty high.

I'll be posting on items of interest in Denver, especially those that involve community hot buttons, local and state politics, the Democratic convention in August, the election season, and any overlap between all those issues and our neighborhood, the Highlands, or just Highland, depending on who you ask.

I'm sure there'll be a whole lot of figuring things out as I get a sense for the local flavor of things, and that's half the fun. Of course I'd like to hear from you if you like what you read at plavwriter. At the same time, if you see something I get wrong, or you just don't agree with me, make a comment or send a note. Blogging's sort of an independent activity, but it's a lot more fun with company.

As always, thanks for reading.

Oaxaca, Some Things I Will Miss

The words palabra, caguamon, sombrilla, guanabana.

The names Cuajimoloyas, Jalatlaco, Xochimilco.

The street names Xicotencatl, 5 de Mayo, 20 de Noviembre, Calle de la Noche Triste.

Fresh avocados at 22 pesos a kilo.

The traditional courtyard, an idyllic refuge even in the busy heart of the city.

Street food, street food, street food. And mole. And tacos al pastor. And nieves.

Street musicians. Bus musicians.

Street art. Guerrilla art.

The morning view from our third floor windows out over flat city roofs. The valley and hills to the east as the sun comes up from behind, then the same light striking the hillsides south and west beyond Colonia Aleman, houses on houses layered upwards as on Mediterranean hillsides. Also the rising light on cathedral cupolas and bell towers, all across the city, during the cool, still mornings; these could easily be taken for mosques and minarets beneath the gathering desert sun.

The generous and restorative appeal of evening light, after a withering day, on the green and yellow face of Santo Domingo, stone streets gradually cooling in the aftermath of the setting sun.

The dazzlingly gifted, fat guitar player, and his quiet, skinny companero, who play most weeknights at El Importador on the zocalo.

Tomorrow, we leave all this, and more.

On Leaving Oaxaca

It's been beastly hot here, but Sunday night delivered a big bad thumping lightning and thunder storm, several hours long. Tree branches down, streets flooded with rain. Monday smelled like a whole new city, and then it rained again. Tuesday has been cool, and there are still puddles at intersections and storm drains, reminders of the changing season. Should be nice until the mosquitoes hatch. Which, it's ungenerous to say, is probably some kind of metaphor for Oaxaca.

There's noise this week about a federal bust-up of the Oaxaca State Police. I'll admit first to not having any idea what's going on beyond the little bit I've read, in English, from Nancy Davies. She writes that the army has arrested at least 7 state police officers, including the cousin of Governor Ulises Ruiz, in relation to investigations into events during the unrest in 2006. Nancy points out that local police seem to have scattered during the recent investigation. "14 didn't show up for roll call (on the 26th), 10 asked for their vacation time, [and] 16 are presumed Zetas, which is organized crime." It is unclear how much overlap may exist in these numbers but either way it's fairly interesting. Nancy's post further points out that at least one of the officers arrested was alleged to be involved in kidnappings and disappearances, and documents were seized relating to the severe, police beating of Emeterio Merino Cruz, who was left incapacitated after the attack.

All this is offered without any background information or fact checking, so take it as such. I don't know about the motivation behind this or the forces really at work. On the surface, it seems like a good thing for Oaxaca. Where politics play in Mexico, however, there is reason to be suspicious.

My focus has shifted of late, and my available time is now more likely spent at research for another writing project and not for the blog. It's become hard to dedicate as much time and energy to following up on the course of events in Oaxaca. It's difficult to encapsulate, but my interest in the perpetual turmoil, or perception of perpetual turmoil just beneath Oaxaca's surface, has dulled. Because it's not mine, because these aren't my people, my protests, or my city, the best I've been able to do is occasionally post updates on the nature of events as I see them here. (And who are my people? Which my protests? Where my city?)

My inability to capture, to really understand, or to fairly render the substance or the subjects of my writing about Oaxaca puts me in a mind to remember Graham Greene:

Perhaps no one can write in depth about a foreign country--he can only write about the effect of that country on his own fellow countrymen, living as exiles, or government servants, or visitors. He can only "touch in" the background of the foreign land.

The observation comes from Greene's introduction to Narayan's novel The Bachelor of Arts. It's not exactly what I feel, not personal enough, but it gets us close. The point is, the writer, the exile, the government servant, the visitor, all of us can only render these other lands as we filter them through our own distorted lenses. I think what Greene doesn't quite say is that no matter what we've put to paper, we don't get it. When writing about another country, none of us are ever either objective or truly empathetic.

As I prepare to leave Oaxaca, I distance myself from all this: the perennial difficulty in getting reliable information; the struggle to know which information to like or to trust (presumably I like Nancy's, but even that has given me pause recently); the posturing that goes on daily between the government and the people's organizations; the hearsay, the speculation, and the uncertainty; the speechifying and bickering that never ceases among a community of priggish expatriate residents (yeah, I'm talking about the Lending Library crowd) who would pretend to have all the answers; the noise, the noise, the endless, damnable noise.

I'm also worn down by, and looking forward to stepping away from, the oppressive police presence in the city: groups of cops standing about in threes and fours, or occasionally even by the dozen, looking for shade in the heat of the day; heavily armed truck convoys patrolling congested city streets; 200 plus state police in full riot gear surrounding the university--which happens to be at the heart of the historic city center and therefore at the heart of tourist flow through the city--on the eve of law school director elections; the helicopter with shooters tethered to the craft, leaning out over the skids with rifles at the ready, chopping overhead in great sweeping arcs to survey for narcotraffickers, we are led to believe, or perhaps merely to impose their presence.

All this while the commerce of a city that would be a tourist destination goes on below, within, and around. Families, parents, and children; backpackers, honeymooners, senior tours; hippies, youth groups, language students; Americans, Europeans, Canadians, Australians, wealthy Mexicans; artists, journalists, entrepreneurs, politicos. Everybody looking for something, nobody, I think, sure exactly what. So we all take some snapshots and a taste of mezcal, buy a bottle for the road and a piece or two of indigenous art, and head home wistfully, to remember Oaxaca as we want it to be, perhaps as it wants to be, and rarely, I suspect, as it ever truly is.

After six months and more here--a substantial visit, yet a mere passing glimpse of a city and a culture--it is my impression that nobody really knows Oaxaca or Oaxacans, especially me. It's a dynamic, ever-changing community where the same themes return again and again. Poverty, inequality, corruption, political unrest. While several vocal minorities make their presence felt across the city by demonstrating in the streets and plazas, the majority of Oaxacans, I believe, just want to work, care for their families, and feel hopeful for the future.

I don't know if the majority of Oaxacans actually do feel hopeful or not, or even if feeling hopeful for the future isn't a cultural notion, some righteous ideal I bring with me. For the middle class here, sure, I think they feel hopeful for their children. For the poor and the marginalized, it's hard to comprehend how exactly they might feel. I think of the things they attempt to sell that no one ever wants, the wooden bookmarks and hideous "indigenous" wall hangings, the baskets and bolsas and gum, the beaded necklaces, the thin shawls, and the native garb; I think of the children, little boys and girls, who weave between tables in the city's restaurants, bars and cafes to insert themselves, literally, into the bosom of conversation and warmth in order to earn a few pesos, a little affection, a jicama stick or a handful of peanuts or a lemon wedge off the side of a plate. I think of the aggressive grandmothers tacking between those same tables to sell gardenias, cheap candy, vitamin supplements or cigarettes to patrons eating expensive desserts; I think of these impoverished parents trying to fend for their children, or perhaps counting on the children, the power of whose cuteness is not overlooked in the running of the daily business, to fend for them. I think of the accordionists and guitar players on the Alcala, and their offspring with tin cans and plastic cups and little outstretched hands, some as young as three or four, who have already learned which face to look up with at passersby in order to earn a peso, or a five peso piece if lucky.

More than the political instability, more than the uncertainty for Oaxaca's present and future, I am left with the deep impression that the marginalized and impoverished will, for the foreseeable future, remain marginalized and impoverished, and that their problems will persist--regardless what happens in the halls of government and among community leaders; regardless what happens between Ulises Ruiz, the teachers, and the APPO--no matter how healthy the tourism trade or how optimistic the governor's annual address.

__________

A postscript:

I'm losing my home Internet for about a week, so blogging will be . . . light. As if it hasn't been already. I'll be back online May 7, but then we're traveling from about May 10 - June 2, more or less. It's difficult to say for certain, because many things are in flux now, but the blog may go into hibernation for a little while.

Jenna and I will be in Denver, full time, starting early June. Consider this an open invitation to come see us, but please do call or write first.

As always, thanks for reading.

He Said It

When is inspiring not inspiring? Perhaps when it's merely suggesting, or better yet "dreaming."

Case in point, Rush Limbaugh yesterday:

For a second day in a row today, the conservative talker discussed the potential for protests and power struggles at the August convention.

"Now, I am not inspiring or inciting riots. I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming of riots in Denver," he said mimicking the holiday tune.

He explained on-air: "Riots in Denver at the Democrat Convention would see to it we don't elect Democrats," Limbaugh said. "And that's the best damn thing (that) could happen for this country as far as anything I can think."

Emphasis mine. Call me crabby, I guess. I'm just not willing to accept the "not inspiring" argument. Inspiration is a slippery thing; here the speaker has made a case for why he thinks, in a direct, syllogistic statement, that "riots in Denver at the Democrat [sic, of course] Convention" would be "the best damn thing that could happen for (this) country . . . ."

What? Am I wrong? Look, the guy said it, whistled a tune, explained--pretty clearly--why riots in Denver would be so great. To say that's not inciting, okay that's close. I listened to the comment, and it wasn't delivered with the invective one would call "inciting." But to claim "not inspiring," on a radio show that reaches literally millions every day? That's just not credible.

Imagine the endless commentary, Limbaugh leading the way, if a Democrat or a popular liberal media personality called for riots at the Republican convention? Well, not called for, of course, but, you know, mentioned. "Dreamed" of, I suppose. Certainly didn't incite. Just casually dropped a plug for riots in an American city as the best thing for America. Inspired? Nah.

Yeah, I can imagine how that goes, and it isn't pretty. It'd be blasted as incendiary if not treasonous. I hope the media doesn't lose sight of that as Limbaugh continues to hedge while pushing his radical agenda, but I won't hold my breath.

Update: Go Wings!

. . . Where I pick up my hockey loyalties once again after years of travel in lands where the concept of an ice rink is scarcely known.

NHL Western Conference Semis! Go Detroit!

Tom T and the Pope

Former presidential candidate and staunch anti-immigrationist Tom Tancredo (R-CO) finds the pope's comments about violence against immigrants "annoying" (really, it's worth waiting for the video to load), and suspects ulterior motives behind the pontiff's suggestions regarding immigration:

"I suspect the pope's immigration comments may have less to do with spreading the Gospel than they do about recruiting new members of the church," Tancredo said.

After hearing this, Howard Dean called on John McCain to denounce Tancredo. Not sure I understand the connection, but I'm all for the sentiment. Can somebody please remind me the origins of the name Tancredo?

Winning High?

When I first read this Sullivan post I thought "Hey, that's a fair question." Can Obama deliver a knockout blow? Sure, he stands tall when Hillary & Co batter him over the head a few dozen times, but is it good campaign strategy to hope she just paints herself into a corner?

Then I read more carefully, and I realized that Sullivan merely poses the question so that he can beg Obama not to go in for the kill, and then he takes it one step farther.

I just hope he doesn't go negative with McCain. A key to his appeal is his positive reason, which would be revealed as mere cunning if it did not apply to running against Republicans as well.

Emphasis mine. I think this is about right. If Obama wins the nomination, can he--will he--manage not merely to remain above the fray, but to elevate the contest as well, in a general election?

In fairness to the Obama campaign, it probably will be enough if he simply remains above the fray and gets voted in without going ugly (as opposed to asking one man to elevate the contest as well, especially if his opponent isn't willing to do so). In and of itself, that would be a strong statement about the American voters' appetite for change. The question nobody seems to be able to answer is, is that scenario possible?

Smooth

I liked everything Obama said yesterday. And I'm pretty well disposed by now to feel a reactionary dislike to almost everything coming out of the Clinton campaign machine the past several--and no doubt for the next several--weeks.

That said, Clinton sounds pretty darn good in this clip.

Grounded

Lots of big important things in the news today, but I'll focus on this instead. Steve Benen points up the grilling the FAA chief took over last week's air travel abomination.