On the Eve of Change

I have some things I feel like saying...or writing down, rather.

Always a fan of a good metaphor, here's mine for today: I am in labor.

I say this for several reasons...one, there's no doubt that I've been carrying a heavy load around the past several months. And as with both pregnancies I've endured, there has surely been a great deal of physical burden, but even more so--an emotional one. But mostly, it's been pure magic. Complete exhilaration, marvel and total empowerment.
And yes, at many times an experience wrought with fear and panic.

But today--tonight, really--as I stare Election Day in the face...I am oddly enough in the same exact state I was when I went into labor: the picture of calm.
Okay, so with Jonathan it kinda helped that I was getting a pedicure at the time...but you get the idea. The amount of angst, preparation and sheer excitement that predicated the event itself was in sharp contrast to the serious calm and focus I felt when the time came.
Such is how I feel tonight.

And I guess what I want to write most about tonight isn't that I'm so proud of myself for not blowing a gasket by now (because let's be honest, I still have 24 hours and the polls haven't even opened yet...), but rather the fact that after all of these months of devouring, pouring over and ultimately getting involved in this election, the thing I'm proud most of isn't the result. It's the process. Always...the process.
This is why I wanted to write this post tonight. Because regardless of tomorrow's outcome, my feelings about being involved in this current election are real...and unattached to any result. Of course I'm hoping Barack wins...OF COURSE I am...but if he doesn't, it won't make me any less proud of the weeks I've spent putting myself out there in the discourse and momentum of the campaign. It won't make me regret any time I spent making phone calls, talking to complete strangers about something so intimately personal to me, standing in long lines just to see a candidate or political figure...and it sure as hell won't make me ashamed or regretful of the way I've allowed this election to transform me.

Brian likes to say that it's just how I am...that it's virtually impossible for me to harbor an opinion on something and not share it. And he's right. But what even he didn't understand until the last few months, is that this particular "cause" has been unlike any other I've encountered. Sure, I have opinions on a whole range of topics...and rare is the occasion that I keep them private.
But it's not often that a moment in history becomes personal for me. It's not often, in this moment-to-moment life I lead that I find anything happening outside the realm of immediate family as relevant.
And it's not often that a political figure inspires me to not only believe in my own ability to affect change...but even more significantly, to call upon my civic responsibility to make it happen.

Perhaps the most difficult aspect of this process for me has been dispelling misperceptions...and not just of my candidate, but of myself. My demographic. My intentions.
Some people think that young people such as myself get involved because we're still young and idealistic. To such people I would ask the following: "How can you blame me for the former and expect anything less than the later?"

Another notion some have is that "moms" like me are just bored, that we need a hobby...and that getting involved in politics is just something to do with all of our spare time.
I'm not even going to go there on this one.

Wait, yes I am.
To these f**knuts I would ask the following: "Have you met my kids?!? What exactly do you consider spare time? Because I wouldn't know it if it hit me square between the loads of laundry and dishes and fights over toys and sprints down the block after my two year old who just figured out the child-protected door handle and is now running half naked down my street..."
I'd also show this person my family budget...how tight it is...and ask them to consider my paying for a babysitter while my husband's traveling, just to go and volunteer my time to the campaign.

But I think the worst misconception of all is one that any of us with a political opinion faces...that we are somehow too close to it all...or investing too much of our attention and emotional well-being in something that is beyond our reach or control. It's the same argument, I feel, that suggests it's somehow possible for teachers and social workers to not take their work home with them at the end of the day.
It's impossible.
And you know why? Because the minute you decide to even give a shit about any of it, is the minute you promise yourself to its cause. The very reasons you have for committing your time to seeing it through are so closely linked to who you are, that they aren't even separate from you. They're your true nature.

I've often talked with Brian about my philosophy courses from college. There were two that I'll never forget, largely for the impact that the professors had on me. But one particular "philosopher" always comes up when I find myself in a conversation with Brian about causes...how we relate to them, and how we know when our passion for them is real. His name was Foucault, and it's impossible for me to summarize the theories and ideas of his that made a lasting impression on me. But one notion of his will always remain when I think of any kind of activism...or volunteer work, if you will. It's the idea that having passion for and attachment to any kind of cause or movement is, in itself, real. But by placing yourself squarely in the midst of its energy and intent, you are claiming it as part of yourself.

So to anyone who is curious as to why I've placed such importance on this current election, I might offer the following: "It's personal."

But to my children...my boys...I will one day ask them to look not at the outcome of this presidential race, but rather the process...and hopefully know something important about their mom for having placed herself squarely in the center of it.