The Road to Obama

Recently, when I publicly declared (on Facebook) that I was supporting Barack Obama for President, a friend of mine wrote and said to me, “Louise! Your endorsement of Obama is bigger than Hillary’s endorsement of Obama!” I laughed, but on some level he understood that my commitment to Hillary Clinton’s campaign had been unwavering. I had been a staunch critic of Obama and of that portion of America that seemed infatuated with him. I wrote essays about it. I argued against him. I pouted with his every win. When Hillary finally lost her bid for the Democratic nomination, I wrote an essay cautioning others to cease and desist their Obama campaign in my direction. My emotional attachment to Hillary’s campaign had been stronger than any other political hope I’d ever had. I can only compare my experience to grief and I needed time. I went through all the responses of grief that anyone experiences. I experienced disbelief and denial. I experienced anger and finally, acceptance.

My disappointment and resentment were so palatable I flirted with the idea of actually voting for John McCain or not voting at all. I began to watch Barack Obama very carefully and tried to be open-minded. And then…John McCain named Sarah Palin as his running mate. And as I (and America) became familiar with her and her policies and positions on issues, I found myself utilizing Aristotle’s Principle of Proportionality, the process by which, when faced with a moral dilemma of conflicting values, one chooses the option that would bring about the greater good or the lesser evil. My first move towards Obama was less a move towards him than it was a move away from McCain/Palin. When the McCain campaign became the McCain/Palin campaign my walk away from John McCain created a fissure; a crevasse. I abhorred the dirty tactics, the subtle racist innuendo and the desperate (and false) character assassinations.

Once that move (more of a leap) occurred, I argued from that position. I attempted to persuade uncommitted voters towards Obama using the “lesser evil” argument. I think it was convincing. But then, the Presidential debates were held and I saw in Barack Obama an intelligent, genuine, classy guy. He is brilliantly articulate (a characteristic I long for in a President following eight years of numb-skullness). I sensed in him a commitment to ALL Americans; a concern for our concerns and a sincere desire to act upon the best motives for seeking public service, to serve the public. And I no longer wanted Obama as my President merely by default. I wanted Obama as my President, period. During the course of those Presidential debates there were two moments in particular in which Obama won, if not my heart, my political sensibilities and my resolve.

John McCain was defending his position on the war with Iraq. In a moment that was obviously scripted, he pointed to the bracelet that he wears in memory of a fallen American soldier. He invoked the words of that dead soldier’s mother who said to him that he (McCain) must ensure that her son not have died “in vain.” The implication seems that the only way her son will not have died in vain is for America to continue the war until some kind of “victory” or other nebulous goal has been reached. In a stunning moment that took my breath away, Obama turned the narrative on its head. He too brought attention to the bracelet that HE wears in memory of a dead American soldier. He too recalled the words of this dead soldier’s mother. The contrast was poignant. THIS mother told Barack Obama to make sure that no other mother experiences the loss that she has endured. I make no claim of interpretation or of understanding the grief of these mothers. I would not pretend to know their grief and how they deal with it. I will say something about what each of the candidate’s rhetorical narratives illustrated to me about them. I suspect that John McCain’s use of those mother’s words intended to evoke an emotional response imbedded in a desperate search for meaning in the midst of a cultural mythology of war that would attach to certain kinds of deaths the virtues of nobility and goodness. The conclusion he drew is that to make valorous that death, one must continue the conflict. The assumption he makes is that the sacrifice of the one is not meaningful unless the ultimate goal is reached. Barack Obama’s response represented the empathetic response of compassion and the realization that every death of a young American soldier is a grievous event and an appeal to a cause does not make it any less so. One cannot script a response like that. Either it is genuine, or it doesn’t happen.

The second moment occurred when Tom Brokaw asked the candidates if they thought health care was a right, a responsibility or a privilege. John McCain responded first with “responsibility.” Trying to glean through his incoherence, I never really heard him say WHOSE responsibility it is. Would it be his, as President? Is it the responsibility of government? Is it the responsibility of business owners and corporations, who would be expected to supply health care out of the goodness of their hearts and the motivation to “do the right thing?” Is it the responsibility of all Americans to get it for themselves? I held my breath. Then Obama responded to the question, definitively and without pause, he said it is a right.

With tentative steps I had been walking the road to Obama for a while now.
But these two debate moments steadied my steps.
The campaigns have solidified my resolve.
Obama is no longer my default candidate.
And after what seems a long and resistant journey, I took the road I had not yet travelled. In the end, Barack Obama finally, has become my hope too.