Ruminations on American Politics

I don’t know if my current views on American politics is a reflection of my age or a new awareness in general on my part of how things really work (which is a gentler way of saying I am now maybe less self-absorbed), or a combination of both. At any rate, I began this morning thinking about politics- not a favorite past time to be sure, but one which is hard to escape if you own a TV or mingle at all in the public sector. So much has been said by others on this- probably much more articulately- but since I have pretty much decided that I will no longer vote or take part in the electoral system in any way, I thought it deserved a few words of explanation (assuming anyone out there in cyber space cares).

Most Americans think that we have a pretty good system of government- at least it would seem so given our propensity for trying to convince everyone else in the world to adopt it. We have the freedom to vote however we choose and we have a choice of candidates. What could be more democratic, right? We are also always hearing that here in America anyone can grow up to be President- it is after all the land of endless opportunity, or so we’ve been told. But when we examine these statements more closely we see something quite different, something that is not included in the promise of freedom and equality. What do I mean? Well let’s start with the freedom of choice in our right to vote. Is there really a choice if both candidates are equally dishonest and self-serving? That may seem a little harsh, and perhaps it is, but here’s where I am coming from:

First we have two parties. The democrats, also known as “the left” or liberals, stand for some things I strongly believe in- like social justice, helping the poor, taking care of the planet as in the environment, tolerance of differences, stuff like that. Now I’m not naive enough to not see that these “causes” attract crackpots and extremists- that seems to be the price of doing business in this world, but that aside, I do respect and support many of this parties views. How well they put them into practice is another story. Somehow achieving their goals often seems to translate into bigger government and higher taxes. This party is also known for its socialist (some say communist) leanings, which I am not in favor of- not so much because I disagree with the ideology, but because it just doesn’t work. All one has to do is look at places where it has been tried to see that, like Russia, Cuba, East Berlin (before the wall came down). Somehow even when we have the right intention (i.e. share wealth equally- wasn’t that the model of the 1st century church?), we corrupt it. Human beings really do, for the most part, want to be gods. The lure to rule over others and acquire wealth and power in the bargain is just too tempting.

The republicans, also known as “the right” or conservatives, stand for capitalism (an economic system in which the means of production are privately owned and operated for a private profit), an entrepreneurial spirit and the rights of the individual. They idealistically represent the image of early Americans who were rugged individualists- pioneers who blazed trails into the Western hills and overcame adversity on the strength of their own self-reliance. Unfortunately this stance often leads to a disregard for those less fortunate and a belief in the premise stated by Donald Trump that “you can't be too greedy.” Greed and corruption go hand in glove- think Enron and WorldCom (apparently we do need some oversight by regulators). This side also attracts its share of crackpots and extremists- in particular wacko fundamentalists (Jerry Falwell comes to mind) and gun-toting militia groups (many from Montana- no lie). I do respect and support many of this parties views on issues like, for example, the sanctity of life- not just the unborn, but the elderly and the handicapped as well. Achieving their goals takes this party in the direction of smaller government and lower taxes (at least in theory). This party is not known for its attitude of tolerance toward differences. I find this particularly offensive when expressed by the evangelical right wing of the party who claim to be followers of Jesus who welcomed everyone.

So there you have it- neither party is all that attractive to me. Politics are the cause of many arguments all over the world, not just amongst opposing political parties but amongst the public as well. That being said, the actual definition of a politic is something that is artful, shrewd, cunning, or crafty. Now let me switch gears here and look not at what the parties represent, but at the candidates. In the forum of public opinion the prevailing view is that anyone in the field of politics cannot fully be trusted. Statistically, no matter what party an individual affiliates themselves with, it has been found that people think that 99% of politicians lie. In fact, politicians are often thought of as operating along the same principle as used car salespeople. In reality, many people believe the system of politics to be corrupt due to the seemingly ubiquitous scandals that have plagued both parties: Watergate, Monica Lewinsky, and Iran-Contra to name but a few. These types of occurrences have made the American public wary of trusting politics in general.

So who really is attracted to politics? What type of person would willingly put themselves and their families through the mud-slinging and scrutiny of a campaign? Wouldn’t it seem that if democracy was such a noble, praiseworthy form of governance it should be conducted with a bit more dignity and respect for the rights and opinions of others? Apparently once a candidate throws his or her hat in the ring the smear campaign begins in earnest. Nothing is off limits and there is no such thing as common decency. What message does this send the rest of the world about America? What message does it send our own young people?

And it doesn’t end once elected. The public and the media are relentless. So it must take someone with a huge ego and an intense lust for power. They must be a master manipulator, and above all, ruthless in defeating ones opponents. After all, we all know that “nice guys finish last.” None of these are traits normally associated with what I would consider great leaders- people like Dr. Martin Luther King, Nelson Mandela or Gandhi. They were known for their wisdom, honesty, integrity, courage and above all, their steadfast devotion to the problems and concerns of others, even at a high cost to themselves. We have all, myself included, supported candidates from both parties who promised ethical government, transparency and accountability. Have we seen any of these things lately- from either party?

In case you haven’t noticed, it also takes a great deal of money to run for office in this country. That eliminates a lot of otherwise highly qualified candidates. “There are two things that are important in politics,” Mark Hanna, the great Republican kingmaker of the late 19th century, once said. “The first thing is money, and I can’t remember what the second one is.” We also know that great wealth and power go together. The historian and moralist, Lord Acton (1834–1902), expressed his opinion about power this way: “Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men."

With the varying opinions of the importance of any politic, individuals eventually are left to draw their own conclusion about the political system and politics in general. I think I have made my case in support of my own cynicism. Does this mean I would prefer to live in some other country? No, on the contrary I recognize that most are just as bad and many much worse than this one. I am simply exercising my right to not participate in or support a corrupt government any longer (I would feel the same if I lived in Italy or Haiti). I will still pay my share of taxes and cash my social security checks when I become eligible and if that makes me a hypocrite, so be it. I never said I was perfect either. But I will make a pledge to myself, to God, and to whomever is reading this, to try this year to serve my fellow man better, be more generous with my resources (not just money, but time) and to lift my eyes up to see what is still good and beautiful and worthwhile in this world and in my life and be truly thankful.

Sudden Death: A Short Story

Harlem

Harlem, one of the largest Black communities in the country, is a "city within a city”.  Once the mecca of jazz enthusiasts', where legends like Duke Ellington, Count Basie and Cab Calloway drew crowds at the famed Cotton Club, it is now a ghetto of poverty, crime and despair.  

Few whites today venture above 110th Street.   But here I was on a cold winter day cruising on a motorcycle with Bill, my boyfriend, up the broad expanse of Lennox Ave.   A light snow began falling from a slatery sky.  Already the afternoon was bruised and darkened, there was no color.  The rows of run down tenements spoke of neighborhoods in decay, the grime and dirt blanketing them in an anonymous shroud.  As we crossed over the bustling commerce along 125th Street, I could see the marquee of the famed Apollo Theater looking shabby and ragged, but still able to evoke a thrill of nostalgia for the greats of Motown who first appeared on it's stage.  I leaned in closer to Bill; thankful I had him in front of me to cut the wind as we weaved in and out of traffic.  I was grateful for the warmth of my short, tight‑waisted, moleskin jacket- a real find from a vintage clothing store in Soho. 

I was an insurance investigator and had hired Bill as my photographer assistant.   Our job was to verify that potential clients' homes, cars or businesses, which they wanted to insure, were in the condition claimed on the application for coverage. 

Bill and I would start our day at our favorite coffee shop, where over bacon and eggs, we would plot out our route for the day.  It was a great job and the freedom was intoxicating.  We were on our own exploring neighborhoods and areas of Manhattan and Brooklyn I had never been to before, even though I was born and raised in the city.  We put in as many or as few hours as we wanted and at the end of the day we handed in our completed reports and picked up our pay. 

On this particular day we were heading up into Harlem on our last case just before dusk.  We found the storefront we were looking for on Edgecomb Ave and began gathering the information we needed.  Bill was taking pictures of a hole in the sidewalk in front of the store and then disappeared to check out the rear.  I was busy with my clipboard jotting down notes about the condition of the stairs, hallways, entrances and exits, especially noting the location of the fire escape and the distance to the nearest hydrant.  Our presence did not go unnoticed. 

A tenant from one of the apartments above the store stuck her head out the window and shouted at me,  "Hey, what you doin down there, girl”? 

I explained the landlord had applied for insurance for the building and I was making out a report on its condition.  I assumed this satisfied her as the window slammed shut, but a few moments later she appeared on the stoop accompanied by several other women, some with young children in tow. 

"Don't nothin work round here”, the first woman said.  "You gonna put that in your report”? 

"Well, I'm not authorized to inspect anything more than the exterior and interior structures of the building, like fire and safety hazards.  For example, that hole in the sidewalk over there goes in my report”, I said, pointing to the hole Bill had taken a picture of moments earlier.  Where the hell was Bill anyway, I wondered nervously? 

A second woman, clutching the hand of a squirming toddler said, "We ain't had no heat in weeks, been keepin' my oven on day and night.   Now I can't hardly pay my gas bill”. 

I tried again to explain this was not the kind of thing I reported on.  "Only structural damage”, I reiterated. 

Just then Bill reappeared from around the corner of the building.  I hurried over to him and quickly filled him in on the situation.  "So, tell them we'll include their complaints in the report”, he said unperturbed. 

As I turned back to address the tenants, I noticed a pregnant woman making her way slowly up the block.  Her swollen body flowed outward, encircling the child inside.  As she drew abreast of us, our attention was drawn upward to a dark blur that seemed to fall in slow motion from the roof above.  It was the body of a young man and it landed with a sickening thud on top of the pregnant woman, crushing her under the force of the impact.  Standing riveted to the spot, we watched in horror as a crimson stain spread on the pavement beside the jumper's head.  Someone screamed, a crowd appeared out of nowhere and the wail of a police siren rammed itself above the traffic sounds. 

Bill and I faded into the background when an ambulance arrived on the scene for the pregnant woman, who miraculously was relatively unhurt, and the body of the less fortunate jumper. 

Later as I recalled this time in my life, I realized how short-lived that period of carefree youth was.  It ended abruptly for me by the events that soon followed in my relationship with Bill, just like the sudden death we witnessed that day.  Henry Roth put it well, I think, "Salvage whatever you can, threadbare mementos glimmering in recollection.”