Politics

Story prompt

My heart is breaking today at the ICE violence and murders, so let’s dive into the deep. This isn’t a political Substack, per se, but our lives are infused with politics. If we do not address it in some way, we are complicit in the fall of our democracy.

Do you have stories of political action you have taken in your life? You get to define what that means—for some of us, it means protesting and calling our representatives. For some, it means putting food in the little free pantry or donating to the food bank, for others, it means running for office or supporting candidates financially. For some, it means building mutual aid networks. It might be a combination.

Recent events have me thinking about my own political life. I was nine when my neighbor took me with her to knock on doors in Providence for McGovern. I wonder what people thought of this waif-like child handing them a pamphlet.

I remember my classmate David wearing a black armband in protest of the Vietnam war in third grade. Girls in my tent at Girl Scout camp had fathers in the military, in Vietnam. I heard my older siblings and their friends talk about the war. I was (and still am) proud of my brother Dave, a Conscientious Objector who did alternate service in Oregon.

I didn’t pay much attention to politics in high school, but because I studied Russian in college, and then lived in Bulgaria in 1983-84, behind the Iron Curtain, I was a student of the Cold War. In Sofia, I found myself defending both sides—people would say, “ooh, in US, there is much violence!” and I would answer that my father would leave the keys in the car in our peaceful small town, or people would say—”ooh, in US, everything is perfect!” and I would answer that no, we did not have a perfect system.

My first job as an academic librarian was at the time of Iran-Contra. As I cataloged Slavic books, I listened to news about the scandal on my Walkman. I think the first time I protested anything was in 1986 when the CIA was trying to access library records from students at the University of Kansas. We stood at the doors of the law library, with our poster board signs. Maybe someday I’ll do a FOIA request to see my file.

I protested against Bush Senior in Connecticut, and against Junior in Kansas, and even attended demonstrations a couple of times while visiting Belgium.

I’ve been protesting against Trump, or maybe I should say FOR women and minorities, FOR upholding our constitution, FOR due process and the rule of law, since 2017.

It has only been in the last year that I’ve committed to calling my representatives frequently (using the app 5Calls) to ask them to work for the good of our country, to ask them to do their duty to Kansans, to ask them to uphold their oaths to the Constitution. Now I call them to take action against the violent acts of ICE.

Last 4th of July I was part of a reading and celebration of the Constitution. There are those of us who still think the Constitution is a valuable guide. We also know that we are going to have to build something better, more equitable.

I was walking down the street on my way to our weekly protest (Sundays, noon to one, downtown if you’re in the area), holding my sign that said “Honor the Constitution” on one side and “Empathy is the heart of democracy” on the other. A man passing me scoffed. I turned to look at him in surprise—what was he objecting to? A woman in his group came up to me and said, “That’s just my brother-in-law. He’s an idiot. We don’t pay any attention.”

People ask if protests and rallies matter. I think they do. In part, we give each other courage, and we feel less despair. We are not alone. When I went to one in Topeka last year, a friend told me she was there because she saw my Facebook post. We also show the government how we feel. As our protests get bigger, the point is made stronger. We also let the world know—I have friends in other countries who wonder if we’re all just obeying in advance. No, we’re not.

Do you have stories of political actions you have taken?