I had never had the opportunity, nor the desire, to see a President before this summer. Suddenly, I've been in the crowd twice, even volunteered to assist in today's rally in Colorado Springs.
I suppose it has a lot to do with being a valuable swing stater--all the attention--and with the luck of the draw: This was President's year to address the Air Force Academy's graduating class. But beyond all that, I really wanted to see Barack Obama.
Don't get me wrong, I loved presidents Carter and Clinton and I worked on Tom Harkin's presidential campaign. I was bitten by the politico bug many decades ago. I've had the honor of meeting several senators and house members as well as a cadre of local pols. (And I swear I saw Roslyn Carter on my 1977 White House tour.) But being in the same place, sharing space with the President of the United States of America is a pretty awesome thing to experience. It's overwhelming: Marine One swoops by and circles overhead (both my events were outdoors), big black limos drive into position, motorcycle cops stand at the ready, and Secret Service agents sprout up like grass after a rain. Then out he comes and you get your first glimpse of the man, the one you've seen time and again on television, the one you cried for on Election Night 2008, the one who signaled the end of the Bush years.
You can't help but squeal and your hands meet under your chin, clasped together as if to hold in the moment. And as the speech unfolds you cheer, sound out agreement, and smile at the fellow travelers gathered alongside you. You know you're in the most secure spot in the country at that moment, but what you feel is that you are in the middle of something big, something far too important not to be shared with thousands of other people. Just briefly you've stumbled onto the center of the political universe.
I can't recall everything President said any more than I can remember the names of the people I registered to vote today, but I do have pictures: Some on my phone and others in my memory. I can see the colorful hats around me, the plethora of campaign ephemera, the blue "Forward" placards at the podium and in the backdrop, that engaging way President has of dropping his head to one side when he smiles.
The soundtrack also remains: President's chuckle, his strong voice, the lady not too far behind me who referenced Mitt Romney's ads as "lies, lies, lies". And I know what I didn't hear in religious right territory, home of Focus on the Family and the Family Research Council, Colorado Springs: Not one protesting voice. There was a lady with a sign proclaiming that the Affordable Care Act (not the name she used) would take away her choice of a doctor. We passed her far from the event itself, across the street and standing by the truck of our local Fox affiliate. She stood in silence and though I considered approaching her, I did not. Seems a young man had already taken that route and was engaging in a civil conversation. I'm sure he did a better job than I would have.
On the drive home I was passed by a car with a "Defeat Obama" bumpersticker and another vehicle whose driver felt the need to impeach our President. I thought about my own bumperstickers: "Obama '08", "Obama 2012", "True Blue Proud Democrat", "DEMS", and "I (heart) equality". I was professing my opinions FOR something, the stickers on those two cars were touting their opposition. My stickers say something about me and demand nothing of others. Those two cars' stickers demanded that others take an action they believed to be the proper course. I find that preachy, whether I agree or--as in this case--I do not. I prefer to advertise not antagonize.
So I've decided that the "other side" is simply misinformed--well you know, the vast majority of the opposition who thankfully are not outright racists nor fearmongers. I've vowed to keep myself positive in public; I can shout obscenities all I want at the TV screen!
For what good does it do to attempt to catch those of an unlike mind or the undecideds with vinegar?
One of Stephanie Miller's callers today said that friends of 35 years and even some family members had kicked her out of their lives because of her pro-equality position. What a sad and terrible thing for her. The best gift we can give another person is to let them be themselves around us, to permit them to exist without subterfuge in all their unique glory. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I have wonderful neighbors and most of them do not share my politics. I have better relationships with some of them than I do with those I am told I must love, than some who share my leanings exactly.
I'm glad that both the captive audience at the Air Force Academy and those there by choice at today's rally were respectful of the others with whom they shared the experience, including the President. And I'm grateful that the one lady with the healthcare sign chose to express herself with quiet red words on plain white posterboard. She did what she felt compelled to do as did the thousands of us pouring out of the college quad. We all did what we came to do and no one was harmed, no one was "un-friended", and no one that I know of left with a broken heart like that poor caller.
Sometimes people surprise you even in a hotbed of "conservatism", whatever that is. Sometimes they stand peacefully in lines a mile long in 92 degree heat for hours and all they ask for is some shade here and there, an occasional breeze, and a little tepid water. In exchange they give enthusiasm, kind attention to us pestering volunteers, and they give thanks. I must've had a dozen or more people thank me "for my service" today, when all I was doing was spending a few hours talking about voter registration and volunteer opportunities and penetrating the thick crowd with cases of water bottles. And I probably didn't do the best job of that: Others turned in way more forms than did I, others continued to pass out water even as President spoke. But I had some wonderful conversations with people who really needed to talk about their personal situations, who wanted to give the campaign suggestions, who just wanted to be heard.
Maybe in some minuscule fashion I was able to empower them the way standing in the same field as the leader of the free world empowered me twice this summer.
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