It is time to write what may perhaps be a final reflection on the Democratic campaign for the party nomination for President. And ultimately I am sad and disappointed. Now, to those of you who are Obama supporters, I would issue a hearty “Congratulations.” But also I would ask that if just for a moment, you walk a mile in my cowboy boots. For you, Obama represents a beacon of hope and the challenge of change in America. Well, for (almost) as many of us, Hillary represented the same things. Imagine your own emotions if the results had been the other way around. Imagine if your hopes had been dashed and crushed. I do not exaggerate when I say that I have not been this saddened and disappointed since the Red Sox lost to the Yankees in Game 7 of the 2003 ALCS. I have never cared more deeply about a baseball team winning the World Series and I have never cared more deeply about a potential Presidential candidate. You who look upon Hillary supporters with incredulity; those of you who cannot see from where we stand; those of you who look at us and wonder aloud, “What are they thinking?” must understand that we look at you and think the same.
And I am not alone. My mother was born in 1918. Those of you who know your history of women’s suffrage in this country realize that she was born before women even HAD the right to vote. I imagine that she was raised among women who championed the cause and who experienced amazement and pride as they approached their first voting booths. Months ago when I asked her who she would support in the Democratic primary (she is a lifelong Democrat), she replied, “Hillary. I love Hillary.” But she did not support Hillary simply on the basis of her sex. She supported Hillary because she trusts her, she knows who she is and she had faith that Hillary would do the right thing. My mother maintains no such trust in Obama. She doesn’t know who he is. He came “out of nowhere,” and she was not convinced by his goldentongue. And she is sad and disappointed.
My daughter holds a BA in political science (Magna Cum Laude, Phi Beta Kappa) and a Masters in Public Policy. Her political decisions are the result of sharp analysis and a working knowledge of political theory and history. She is a staunch supporter of Hillary Clinton. And she is sad and disappointed. Several weeks ago she said to me that she was desperate, desperate to find someone who could present to her an argument that would make her feel justified in voting for Obama in November, but she wants an argument NOT based on the rhetoric of “hope and change.” She lives in Obama territory, in a caucus state won by him and still, no one has been able to articulate to her an argument based on sound political reasoning and Obama’s proven history.
In this moment, I am contemplating something I never thought possible. For the first time since 1972, I am considering not casting a ballot in the election for President of the United States. Some of you may think this a product of sour grapes; the “sore loser,” or sulking and petulant stubbornness. I assure you it would be none of these. I was raised in a family that viewed the right to vote as something almost as sacred as the holy water in which we dipped our fingers. As a little girl, I remember a voting night when my parents came home and my brothers and I chirped, “Who did you vote for? Who did you vote for?” My mother said, “Ohhh. A person’s vote is a secret.” And it is a personal choice, not a collective one. It is a matter of conscience. I have never voted for a Presidential candidate on the basis of NOT wanting the “other guy.” In every Presidential election in which I have voted I have been able to cast my ballot with the conviction, “This is the person I want to be my President.” I cannot say this about either Barack Obama or John McCain. I am considering the possibility of showing up at the polls in November, presenting my voter registration card, signing my name so that I am recorded as “present and accounted for,” and then, turning on my heels and walking out. I figure, if Obama can be defended for voting “present” when he protested the choices available to him, then so can I.
Or, I may write-in Hillary’s name yet.
But November is many months away. Obama has time to convince me. Perhaps he will. I will be watching and listening closely. As will millions of others. But not today. Not today. Do not try me just yet. To do so would be comparable to extolling the virtues of the Yankees to a Red Sox fan in October, 2003. But I am never without hope. There is no one in this country more capable of hope than a Red Sox fan, and no one more loyal. And like watching the ball roll through Bill Buckner’s legs in 1986 or Aaron Boone’s homer in 2003, I cannot believe it has come to this. But with undying hope and faithfulness I will put away my Hillary campaign button for now and say what millions of Sox fans have said in the past, “just wait ‘til next year,” or in this case, “just wait ‘til 2012.”
And in the meantime, because I love my country, I hope that Barack Obama is the man he claims to be.
