Posts Tagged ‘politics’
Cindy on January 19th, 2009
“We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. We are the change that we seek.” – Barack Obama
Every TV in my house is turned on and tuned to the inauguration coverage. I don’t want to miss any of it. This morning, I listened to CNN’s special broadcast of Dr. Martin Luther King’s historic “I Have A Dream” speech. The line about being “judged by the content of our character” never fails to move and inspire me. I’ve always been proud to be an American, but this week I’m more proud and patriotic than ever. Watching people of all races gathered peacefully and exuberantly in Washington D.C., I am moved to tears. And I’m filled with renewed excitement and hope for this country — something I haven’t felt in a long time. – CL
Cindy on December 29th, 2008
“Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each year find you a better person.” — Benjamin Franklin
I stopped making New Year’s resolutions a long time ago. They rarely stick — and only serve to throw me into a vicious cycle of guilt, remorse, and self-contempt for the better part of January.
Instead, I stumbled on another ritual that works in the long run. I call it my “lessons in the rear-view mirror” exercise, which is simply a review of what I learned throughout the past year. Here are a few of my hard-earned epiphanies from 2008:
* Change, hope, democracy, and possibility aren’t just verbiage for a campaign slogan. Despite an incredibly vicious presidential campaign that pitted neighbor against neighbor, the first African American was elected to the highest position of government in the United States. The epitome of grace under pressure, Barack Obama reminds me that anything is possible in America, and that people who expect more from life (and themselves) often get it.
* When friends and neighbors truly love you, they won’t sever the relationship just because you didn’t vote Republican or put Obama signs on your lawn. The really good ones still bring you coffee cake.
* Frugality is cool again. In the midst of a long recession, conspicuous consumption has gone the way of the manual typewriter. Many of us woke up to the fact that we already have everything we need — including a supportive family, longtime friends, good neighbors, and a closetful of unworn clothes that still have price tags hanging on them. Our houses are big enough, our cars are new enough, our lives are rich enough. Enough is enough.
* There’s no such thing as “getting ahead.” When everything around you is changing rapidly, slowing down to catch your breath is often the best course of action. I regret that I spent the first half of my life dashing frantically from one activity to the next, as if there were a contest for the achiever who got it all done first. “What will your tombstone say?” humorist Loretta LaRoche asks us to consider. “Will it say, ‘Got it all done, dead anyway?’ ”
* We all deserve to be paid what we’re worth, whether we practice dentistry, carpentry, or journalism. Our experience and expertise have value — and others have more respect for services they have to pay for. When I give away my professional skills, people not only perceive me as generous, they also think of me as a walking freebie. I also make it harder for my colleagues to earn a decent wage.
* Parenting is the most important job a person can ever do, and it’s worth giving it the absolute-best you’ve got. Kids grow up faster than you can say “empty nest.” It’s a sappy cliche, I know, but until you watch your kid pack the car and drive off to his own new place in another state, you don’t really believe it.
* When someone steals one of your best ideas, it’s hard to get it back.
* You can’t take anything for granted. The Detroit newspaper crisis got me thinking about my 25-year career writing for print media. My smallest paychecks — and my biggest thrills — were always earned from a byline in my local newspaper. As Joni Mitchell sang, “Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone…”
* Support networks really work. Having a posse of gifted writers with whom to commiserate has kept me sane — and hopeful — and I’m forever grateful for their friendship. Despite all the bad news for print media, writers are an optimistic bunch. Already, fresh ideas are brewing and there’s plenty of positive talk about publication start-ups and new ways of making a living with words. There’s hope in the midst of change.
* Love makes everything better. Everything.
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
– Cindy La Ferle
Cindy on November 5th, 2008
“Courage is the power to let go of the familiar.” — Raymond Lindquist
Obama won last night — and it’s a gorgeous morning in my suburban Detroit neighborhood. The autumn sun shimmers through the maples in my front yard, and it looks like we’ll hit an unseasonal 70 degrees again today. Meanwhile, the city is sweeping away the fallen leaves in the street, adding to the sense that we’re all making way for something fresh and new. Like everyone else, I was overcome with emotion as I watched the election returns last night. And I couldn’t help but think about how our country has changed — how I’ve changed — throughout this historic presidential election. Here are a just few things I discovered about myself:
*I hadn’t lost interest in politics after all. Shell-shocked after eight years of George W. Bush, I’d merely developed a nasty case of political apathy. Yet I knew I was ready for change and was intrigued by everything I’d read about Barack Obama. I’d also been impressed, years earlier, by John McCain. But before I could commit to either candidate, I had to re-examine my own values and beliefs. I had to do my political homework. Then I had to find the courage to speak out.
*I care so much about my country that I stopped worrying about what the neighbors think. My family and I rarely displayed political lawn signs in the past. We live in a relatively conservative neighborhood — a neighborhood anchored by a strong Catholic church that supported McCain and Palin. Our Obama lawn signs were definitely in the minority, and I know they disturbed quite a few conservative neighbors who walked or drove past our house. We may have lost a measure of their respect while “outing” our Democratic choice in this particular election. In the long run, we learned who our real friends are.
*I learned the value of being informed. I had to study the big political picture and the major issues — the economy, the war in Iraq, the health-care crisis, educational reform, energy and the future of environmental resources. Just for starters. In the past, I typically skimmed the front page and went directly to the lifestyle section. During this election, though, I dug deeper. I spent at least two hours a day reading political Web sites and online editions of newspapers around the country. Meanwhile, a nasty flurry of myths and rumors circulated on the air and in print. I had to learn which sources were reliable — and which were not.
*It helped to take “news fasts” throughout the campaign. Several of my politically active friends pointed out that we’d all become addicted to our steady diet of political news shows, articles, op-ed columns, and e-mails. To quiet my pounding heart, I had turn off the television once in a while. Cooking a meal, riding my bike, or talking with a friend about non-political topics really helped.
*Laughter is the great political unifier. What would I have done without Tina Fey on Saturday Night Live ? She and the SNL cast — plus special appearances by the real Sarah Palin and John McCain — made the past several weeks a lot more bearable. We all needed to lighten up.
*My views on race and bigotry were put to the test. Like so many other white kids raised in middle-class suburbs during the 1960s and ’70s, I wrote reports about Martin Luther King Jr. and Rosa Parks. I gave lip service to the lofty notions of racial equality. But until this groundbreaking election, I never quite realized the depth of my desire for social justice and liberty for all — or how hard I was willing to campaign for those ideals.
*No matter which political party they support, people in America are more patriotic and passionate than I’d ever imagined. Yesterday’s historic voter turnout proved that we believe we can make a difference, and that we won’t give up on the values, dreams, and ideals we uphold. For the past eight years I’ve been worried about America — worried that we’d be forever paralyzed by alternating currents of fear and apathy. But now I have reason to hope. A bright, shining reason to hope. – Cindy La Ferle
Cindy on October 16th, 2008
We will not solve the problems of the world by staying at the same level of thinking that created them.” — Albert Einstein
Driven by fear and uncertainty, some of us cling to the past or seek shelter in the safety of our old comfort zones. Worse yet, when we’re really scared, we hurl proverbial rocks at those who think, look, or act differently than we do.
Admittedly, there’s a lot to be afraid of these days. One day the stock market plummets to an all-time low; the next day it rises. Then it falls again. Economists predict we’ll be strapped to this hair-raising roller coaster ride for at least another year. Will our pensions or retirement accounts remain secure? Will we lose our jobs? What’s in store for young people and the next wave of college grads? Will there be enough money left to care for our aging parents?
In the broader sense, I’m wondering if our country will have enough money to rebuild our own troubled cities — my native Detroit and New Orleans, to name just two — after spending untold sums on wars in other nations. And will there be anything left for environmental research and to explore new energy resources? Big questions, all.
I’m so ready for change. As if on cue, I just received a preview copy of the aptly titled, STUCK: Why We Can’t (or Won’t) Move On, by award-winning journalist Anneli Rufus. The book is scheduled for release in January, in time for New Year’s resolutions. I’ll keep you posted once I’ve finished it. -- Cindy La Ferle
– “Grumpy Old Garden Troll” photo by Cindy La Ferle–
Cindy on October 12th, 2008
Growing up in the 1960s, I was fed the idea that “nice people” didn’t discuss religion or politics in public. Ever. At the family dinner table, I once asked my parents to reveal their candidates for an upcoming election. I was told in no uncertain terms that it was none of my business — though I did get the impression that my folks weren’t all that keen on the Kennedy clan.
My father, who later confessed that he was a registered Republican, agreed that Thomas Jefferson was right about the need for “a wall between church and state.” But for the most part, Dad never debated loaded political issues at family gatherings or cocktail parties. Because of that, I suppose, I’m still uncomfortable about expressing my political views in public — especially in print.
Which is odd, really, for someone who enrolled in journalism school in the radical 1970s and was somewhat politically active. At the time, Michigan State University was a safe place in which to express or refute opinions on controversial topics such as abortion, diversity, date rape, gay partnership, global warming or animal rights. During my senior year, I did an independent study on environmental issues and helped produced a documentary on recycling. Looking back, I can’t help but wonder what happened to the passionate young woman I was.
But once I graduated college and joined the work force in the 1980s, discussing politics was something I did only with my closest friends. And even then, I felt vaguely uneasy.
Today, it doesn’t help that I’m a closet Democrat living in a politically conservative neighborhood where people rely on their priests or pastors to tell them how to vote. Earlier this fall, a neighbor who just assumed I was a conservative voter reminded me that “liberals have no family values.” Of course, I was deeply offended. After all, I’ve been happily married to the same man for 27 years, raised a solid family, attended church, provided childcare for the neighborhood kids, taken care of my aging mother, and spearheaded our Neighborhood Watch program. Not to mention all the newspaper and magazine columns I’ve written in celebration of home and family.
Yet I didn’t say a word in response. I let her ramble on. And now I’m ashamed that I wasn’t bold enough to speak out and declare my liberal position. (Worse yet, this has happened to me more than once.) Why on earth did I feel I had no right to speak my own political truth — while my Republican neighbor clearly felt entitled to campaign for hers? As author Alice Walker reminds us, “The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don’t have any.”
Like everyone else, I’m terribly worried about the future of our beleaguered country. Our upcoming election in November will be one of the most important events in American history. And so, last month, I finally made the decision to break my code of silence. When friends or colleagues ask for my honest opinion on hot-button issues, now they get an earful instead of my usual vague response.
A few conservative friends have distanced themselves from me, or worse, have resorted to sending e-mails bearing dubious or inflammatory messages, such as, “Obama is the anti-Christ.” It’s been decades since bigotry cast its long shadow on my community and country — but here is it again, and it breaks my heart.
Last month I drove to our local Democratic party headquarters and wrote a check. I volunteered to help in the campaign where I am needed. And while I was at it, I picked up several large Obama signs on my way out. Pulling into my driveway at home, I rallied my inner political college girl and pulled those signs out of the trunk. I planted them squarely in my front yard — where everyone can see them. – Cindy La Ferle
–Portions of this post originally appeared last month on the Michigan Women’s Forum and 50-something Moms blog.–
