Tomorrow's the big day. And maybe, by Wednesday, we'll know who the next president of the United States will be. I voted absentee weeks ago, so this is weird. I won't have any first hand experience of the polls, of that energy - and in many places frustration due to long lines - of election day. I plan to listen to a lot of NPR, provided my co-workers don't object, and maybe people will come in to the farmstand wearing "I Voted" stickers. It will be interesting to hear what the customers might have to say.
But this isn't just interesting. This is big. But it's certainly not the end. It may be the end of the political tv watching season, but really, Wednesday is when the real things starts. When we know who the next president is, we can start making plans on how we, the people, are going to bring about the changes we want and need - what is and isn't possible, what strategies to use, what to prioritize. We can't lose our momentum but we need to stay and get organized because despite how big this is, so much of the struggle for a better America is fought and won on the ground. It's the fear of forgetting this, of believing that the president is everything, that has turned me off from the presidential campaign, that has prevented me from jumping on the Obama bandwagon of donating and volunteering. And this coming from someone who, after seeing Obama speak at the Democratic National Convention in 2004, suggested, "Obama for President 2008, anyone?" When I saw Obama in Boston in 2004, he excited me in a way none of the candidates had and I knew he would run for president someday but I never really thought in would be so soon. When I saw him in Iowa after he won the caucus in January and shook his hand, I was still unsure that this day would come. And here it is. If he wins, great, we'll celebrate. But we can't lose our momentum, that doesn't mean the battle is won and that we can stop. It means one door has opened but we've got to keep fighting to open more doors. And if he loses, I know I'll feel angered and frustrated and downtrodden. But that just means we have to try harder, we have to bring about more change from the bottom up. If McCain wins, I'll struggle to understand the meaning of America, the values of this population, the direction of this empire. But (and I say this mostly to my potential future self) we cannot let this beat us. Instead, let whatever the election results are be a starting point, inspiration out of anger and defeat or out of celebration and victory. It may go either way, but as far as I'm concerned, for the rest of us there is only one way to go, and that's forward.
So tomorrow we vote (if we haven't already). I got a phone call from the Northfield DFL the other day, reminding me to vote for all the democratic candidates, Obama, Franken, Sarvi, Bly. Listening to the message I thought to myself, "Well aren't I a good little Democrat, voting down the line like that." But the thing is, I didn't vote for those candidates just because of their party. I've heard each one of them speak, in person, at least once. I've followed Obama's campaign since before it was a campaign. I've talked to Steve Sarvi, donated money, time, even use of my car to his campaign. I didn't blindly vote along party lines - I voted for the candidates I liked best, because of who they were and who they weren't. And tomorrow I'll see if they win.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Thursday, May 15, 2008
My Democratic Party
Yesterday's West Virginia primary raises some important questions about race, politics, and the future of the Democratic Party (and subsequently the United States).
I have too much respect for Hillary and many of her supporters and recognize that she has received much undeserved criticism and flak because she is a woman to join the cries for her to drop out. While I think the amount of money put into primary campaigning is somewhat absurd, and I am getting impatient with this drawn out process, that the voters of every state are getting a chance to weigh in is, I believe, a good thing. In November I will enthusiastically vote for whomever the Democratic Party nominee is. However, if at this point Hillary manages to win the nomination for the racial reasons that the press suggests she may likely have won West Virginia, I will be somewhat troubled by the make-up and direction of the Democratic Party.
In the New York Times's coverage of the West Virginia primary, they mentioned that race was "an unusually salient factor." And while a West Virginia victory isn't particularly significant, Obama's loss might raise questions about his appeal to some traditional Democratic voting blocks, such as white workers, the Times contended. My question is, should we care?
I'm reminded of the Democratic Party's desire, in the 1960s, to pander to the Dixiecrats so as to maintain their support. The party was so afraid to lose Southern white Democrats that it accepted the disenfranchisement of black voters! I am in no way suggesting that Hillary supporters or even Hillary supporters in West Virginia are racist whites--and in fact I think that much of this perceived polarization around race but not gender in the primary has been created by the media--but some of them certainly are (even if in no way resembling the infamously violent, racist Mississippi whites of the 1960s). The New York Times clearly suggested that voters who considered race voted for Hillary. Also according to the Times, 1/2 the Democratic voters in WV think that Obama shares Rev. Wright's opinions (I am too outraged over the fiasco around Rev. Wright and the fact that people feel Obama ought to dissociate himself from the pastor to write eloquently on that matter). The Democratic Party cannot afford to listen to racist white voters--in my opinion it is more desirable to alienate such people from the party than to allow them to sway the direction the party is heading. If you don't want to vote for Obama because he's black, if you don't want to vote for Hillary because she's a woman, get out of my party. (If you don't want to vote for Obama because of Rev. Wright, I would also like to ask you to leave.)
I have too much respect for Hillary and many of her supporters and recognize that she has received much undeserved criticism and flak because she is a woman to join the cries for her to drop out. While I think the amount of money put into primary campaigning is somewhat absurd, and I am getting impatient with this drawn out process, that the voters of every state are getting a chance to weigh in is, I believe, a good thing. In November I will enthusiastically vote for whomever the Democratic Party nominee is. However, if at this point Hillary manages to win the nomination for the racial reasons that the press suggests she may likely have won West Virginia, I will be somewhat troubled by the make-up and direction of the Democratic Party.
In the New York Times's coverage of the West Virginia primary, they mentioned that race was "an unusually salient factor." And while a West Virginia victory isn't particularly significant, Obama's loss might raise questions about his appeal to some traditional Democratic voting blocks, such as white workers, the Times contended. My question is, should we care?
I'm reminded of the Democratic Party's desire, in the 1960s, to pander to the Dixiecrats so as to maintain their support. The party was so afraid to lose Southern white Democrats that it accepted the disenfranchisement of black voters! I am in no way suggesting that Hillary supporters or even Hillary supporters in West Virginia are racist whites--and in fact I think that much of this perceived polarization around race but not gender in the primary has been created by the media--but some of them certainly are (even if in no way resembling the infamously violent, racist Mississippi whites of the 1960s). The New York Times clearly suggested that voters who considered race voted for Hillary. Also according to the Times, 1/2 the Democratic voters in WV think that Obama shares Rev. Wright's opinions (I am too outraged over the fiasco around Rev. Wright and the fact that people feel Obama ought to dissociate himself from the pastor to write eloquently on that matter). The Democratic Party cannot afford to listen to racist white voters--in my opinion it is more desirable to alienate such people from the party than to allow them to sway the direction the party is heading. If you don't want to vote for Obama because he's black, if you don't want to vote for Hillary because she's a woman, get out of my party. (If you don't want to vote for Obama because of Rev. Wright, I would also like to ask you to leave.)
Thursday, April 03, 2008
so much for "humanizing refugees"
And the future of refugees at Buduburam is even more uncertain...
A few months ago the women of Buduburam went on strike. (Not all of them, certainly, but a significant amount to disrupt life on camp.) Somehow the UNHCR had agreed to extend voluntary repatriation one year and increase the cash attachment to $100 from $5. But these women, these mothers, wanted more—and who wouldn't want more, who wouldn't want to provide the best, ensure the safest future for one's children. Thus they took to the football field with demands for either resettlement or $1000 for repatriation.
A few weeks ago, Ghanaian police came into the camp and arrested hundreds of women and brought them to an undisclosed location. A few days later they came in and arrested some men as well. The UNHCR negotiated the return of many of the arrested refugees to camp, but some were deported back to Liberia without due process.
If this had to happen, I'm glad that it happened while I was in Canada, visiting my fellow volunteers, because it forced the issue to resonate with me, it forced me to care more, it made it so that I couldn't hide from the terrible reality of what has happened.
It's a clash, no, a convergence, of my recent academic studies of protest and (especially) mothering and my experience in Buduburam.
Of course, it's hard to get the facts straight about what happened. It was hard when I was there, and it's even farther from afar. The international news sources, the American news sources, they don't give a damn. While I wouldn't want what's recently happened at Buduburam to be blown out of proportion, the fact that there's not a single mention in even a tiny little hidden corner of the New York Times upsets me. Because this absence makes me realize just how much bad stuff happens all over the world that we would never, could never, know about, even if we tried.
There's a difference between the facts I read on the petition and those cited in the PCO report I was recently emailed. But the truth doesn't depend upon the facts and the details. In both accounts, peaceful protesters (and even non-protesters?) were arrested, and some were even deported despite their legal refugee status.
Liberian/Ghanaian relations around camp are, I would guess, at an all time low. The protesting women said they didn't want to be integrated into Ghanaian society, and I can understand why. They want to preserve their culture and identity, and if they can't they want to give their children what they believe is the best possible opportunity for them.
So chaos may not reign. Life may go back to normal. But according to the PCO report, the camp will close in 2009. Who knows what will happen to the Liberians who remain in Ghana, but it doesn't look good. Regardless, I admire the women of Buduburam, who took action—disruptive action—on an issue that intimately effected them. Their demands may be impossible and unreasonable, but their agency is admirable.
I realize the lack of explanation in this post of the events that recently transpired on camp. But from this distance I feel inadequately prepared to cover them. I can write about what I experienced and discovered when I was there. But for account of what has happened regarding the protests and arrests and deportations, I suggest you read the petition, and I hope you sign it. Its demands are mild but important. This situation must be resolved, and the UNHCR needs to do a better job mediating and meeting needs. In order to effectively resolve the situation (immediately and in the long run), the voices of these women must be heard. Their concerns, needs, and demands must be a part of any proposed solution if it is to work.
A few months ago the women of Buduburam went on strike. (Not all of them, certainly, but a significant amount to disrupt life on camp.) Somehow the UNHCR had agreed to extend voluntary repatriation one year and increase the cash attachment to $100 from $5. But these women, these mothers, wanted more—and who wouldn't want more, who wouldn't want to provide the best, ensure the safest future for one's children. Thus they took to the football field with demands for either resettlement or $1000 for repatriation.
A few weeks ago, Ghanaian police came into the camp and arrested hundreds of women and brought them to an undisclosed location. A few days later they came in and arrested some men as well. The UNHCR negotiated the return of many of the arrested refugees to camp, but some were deported back to Liberia without due process.
If this had to happen, I'm glad that it happened while I was in Canada, visiting my fellow volunteers, because it forced the issue to resonate with me, it forced me to care more, it made it so that I couldn't hide from the terrible reality of what has happened.
It's a clash, no, a convergence, of my recent academic studies of protest and (especially) mothering and my experience in Buduburam.
Of course, it's hard to get the facts straight about what happened. It was hard when I was there, and it's even farther from afar. The international news sources, the American news sources, they don't give a damn. While I wouldn't want what's recently happened at Buduburam to be blown out of proportion, the fact that there's not a single mention in even a tiny little hidden corner of the New York Times upsets me. Because this absence makes me realize just how much bad stuff happens all over the world that we would never, could never, know about, even if we tried.
There's a difference between the facts I read on the petition and those cited in the PCO report I was recently emailed. But the truth doesn't depend upon the facts and the details. In both accounts, peaceful protesters (and even non-protesters?) were arrested, and some were even deported despite their legal refugee status.
Liberian/Ghanaian relations around camp are, I would guess, at an all time low. The protesting women said they didn't want to be integrated into Ghanaian society, and I can understand why. They want to preserve their culture and identity, and if they can't they want to give their children what they believe is the best possible opportunity for them.
So chaos may not reign. Life may go back to normal. But according to the PCO report, the camp will close in 2009. Who knows what will happen to the Liberians who remain in Ghana, but it doesn't look good. Regardless, I admire the women of Buduburam, who took action—disruptive action—on an issue that intimately effected them. Their demands may be impossible and unreasonable, but their agency is admirable.
I realize the lack of explanation in this post of the events that recently transpired on camp. But from this distance I feel inadequately prepared to cover them. I can write about what I experienced and discovered when I was there. But for account of what has happened regarding the protests and arrests and deportations, I suggest you read the petition, and I hope you sign it. Its demands are mild but important. This situation must be resolved, and the UNHCR needs to do a better job mediating and meeting needs. In order to effectively resolve the situation (immediately and in the long run), the voices of these women must be heard. Their concerns, needs, and demands must be a part of any proposed solution if it is to work.
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