Hope. It is such a difficult thing.
I've never thought of myself as Pollyanna, but I do prefer to hope for the best rather than expect the worst.
Tuesday's caucus offered me justification for such an attitude. Thousands of people turned out in support of not just the candidate I support, but the process of democracy. It was exhilarating!
Of course, I have to be prepared to be bitten in the butt, as has happened in so many other elections. Four years ago, by the time the process came to Colorado, the choice had been made and it wasn't mine. But I believed in the system so I stood in the November cold and made sure people had the chance to cast a vote for the lesser of two evils.
Lo and behold, the candidate was leading by the time I left the gathering of other voting-rights activists. The joy was short-lived, though. By the time I got home, the fix was in -- vote tampering or last-minute rush of Bush supporters we'll never know. Took a few days to be able to sit comfortably with that disappointment.
So this time I was not going to get involved. As much as I relish the idea of a First Gentleman (presumably the equivalent of First Lady) and a woman leading the country, I could not throw much support behind the politics-as-usual approach.
And then who should burst onto the scene, laying waste to my diffidence? A politician addressing my very issues with a message of hope. People may disagree about policies and opinions and whatever but almost everyone agrees Barack Obama is one smart fellow.
That, if nothing else, gives me hope. And the fact that no matter what, in less than 350 days, the person running the country will not be named George.
Showing posts with label politics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label politics. Show all posts
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Monday, January 28, 2008
Ch-ch-ch-change
In my previous entry, I alluded to some thoughts for a blog entry on change. It was sidetracked/derailed by the demands of motherhood but has continued to burble about in my brain.
As I look out onto the mountains, I see that change is a-coming, weather-wise. The two days of spring-like temps are going to yield to what looks like a snowstorm arriving a little sooner than expected. Evening flurries was the forecast upon which I encouraged my son to bike to school this morning. Oops!
On a grander scale, though, the election year brings on change as a major theme. Everyone I know (in this protected Boulder bubble) is more than ready for a presidential change, and many of us are cautiously hopeful at the fresh face of the Democratic candidates. A woman and a person of mixed race --wow, now that's change. I don't think even MLK could have thought we'd come this far this fast. (Not that the work of social justice and civil rights is complete by any means.)
It is of course too early to tell what might happen in the presidential arena, but at least it is good to see diversity in the candidates. Given the past two performances, there is no guarantee of anything in our electoral system.
From the macro to the micro, I am often in awe of how change manifests itself within our own individual lives. Having our now-adult daughter home for the holidays started me thinking in this direction. To watch a person grow up is an incomparable joy (tinged with some sorrow at times), and our daughter is certainly breaking out of her cocoon into a quite amazing butterfly. For example, I mentioned summer vacation plans and she quickly snipped, "I am going to have to work this summer." Spring break at home was dismissed right off. What was I thinking?
But the most personally relevant change is the one I remember hearing my mother and her peers talk about oh-so-many years ago. "Oh, she's going through the CHANGE," they would whisper. It all sounded so mysterious and scary. Will she grow horns? Turn green and wrinkly? What is this change that seems to happen to women of a certain age?
As I near that age, I approach it with very mixed feelings. Of course, there is the uncertainty of how my body will react to the hormonal swings. Whether I will be a candidate for the various hormone replacement therapies is yet to be discussed. It is all so confusing--one study says they may prevent one cancer but another suggests they may promote a different one. What to do? Whom to trust? Reminds me a bit of the hoo-haw over birth control pills when I first considered taking them.
So, maybe it is important to remember that the more things change the more they stay the same. Change is the only constant. All those other trite-isms .
And like the snowstorm that seemed to be looming when I started this missive, if you just wait a few minutes, it will change. The sun is out once again, and the future looks oh so promising.
As I look out onto the mountains, I see that change is a-coming, weather-wise. The two days of spring-like temps are going to yield to what looks like a snowstorm arriving a little sooner than expected. Evening flurries was the forecast upon which I encouraged my son to bike to school this morning. Oops!
On a grander scale, though, the election year brings on change as a major theme. Everyone I know (in this protected Boulder bubble) is more than ready for a presidential change, and many of us are cautiously hopeful at the fresh face of the Democratic candidates. A woman and a person of mixed race --wow, now that's change. I don't think even MLK could have thought we'd come this far this fast. (Not that the work of social justice and civil rights is complete by any means.)
It is of course too early to tell what might happen in the presidential arena, but at least it is good to see diversity in the candidates. Given the past two performances, there is no guarantee of anything in our electoral system.
From the macro to the micro, I am often in awe of how change manifests itself within our own individual lives. Having our now-adult daughter home for the holidays started me thinking in this direction. To watch a person grow up is an incomparable joy (tinged with some sorrow at times), and our daughter is certainly breaking out of her cocoon into a quite amazing butterfly. For example, I mentioned summer vacation plans and she quickly snipped, "I am going to have to work this summer." Spring break at home was dismissed right off. What was I thinking?
But the most personally relevant change is the one I remember hearing my mother and her peers talk about oh-so-many years ago. "Oh, she's going through the CHANGE," they would whisper. It all sounded so mysterious and scary. Will she grow horns? Turn green and wrinkly? What is this change that seems to happen to women of a certain age?
As I near that age, I approach it with very mixed feelings. Of course, there is the uncertainty of how my body will react to the hormonal swings. Whether I will be a candidate for the various hormone replacement therapies is yet to be discussed. It is all so confusing--one study says they may prevent one cancer but another suggests they may promote a different one. What to do? Whom to trust? Reminds me a bit of the hoo-haw over birth control pills when I first considered taking them.
So, maybe it is important to remember that the more things change the more they stay the same. Change is the only constant. All those other trite-isms .
And like the snowstorm that seemed to be looming when I started this missive, if you just wait a few minutes, it will change. The sun is out once again, and the future looks oh so promising.
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