Tonight was supposed to be a happy night, but instead as I sat back to watch the C-SPAN coverage of the convention, I couldn’t help but hear my family in the kitchen. They were talking about the election but it was hard to hear over the roar of the television I was listening too. I knew why they were whispering. They didn’t want me to hear.
For the past eleven months, I had driven them crazy with talk about the campaign. Every day, I would come home with news from the internet, the radio, or the television about some new poll, or a statement that a candidate had put out. I sat in front of the television for every primary and every caucus while I pounded the keys over at the Daily Kos. I gave speeches in school about Barack Obama’s candidacy, signed friends and strangers up to vote, and talked about the issues with every person that would listen. And all of my efforts, all of my sacrifice, and all of my hopes for the future of this country led to this week at the Democratic National Convention.
So I knew why my family was whispering. They didn’t want me to hear. They didn’t want me to hear the republican talking points they were spewing. They didn’t want me to hear the racism in the words. They didn’t want me to hear the ignorance in their conversation. But it was too late. I heard. And I was pissed at what I heard.
I already knew that my family was ultra conservative, and they knew that I was ultra liberal. But I never realized how much I hate the republican agenda until recently.
It pains me that my little brothers, who are eleven and thirteen, are being affected by my parents. My brothers now call Barack a terrorist, boo every democrat they see or hear, and are extremely homophobic and xenophobic. At such a young age, they are being taught to believe in issues that they don’t understand. McCain is always right and Obama is always wrong, even though they don’t know a thing about foreign or economic policy.
It was those talking points that I was hearing in the kitchen. It was the usual. Obama is a muslim. He’s inexperienced. We don’t know nothing about him. The only reason he got elected was because people want the first African American president. The usual Hannity, Beck, and Rush talking points that they listen to regularly and I have to hear.
All of my anger and frustration from the past eleven months bubbled over thirty minutes later when they all moved in to the living room. My dad started by saying, "Not this bum," when he saw Bill Clinton on the television. I held it in. A few minutes later, they began to talk about Edwards and his affair. I don’t know why Edwards put me over the top, but it did.
"Well, McCain cheated on his wife," I said.
"That was never proven," my dad said.
"Yes, it was. McCain admitted it."
"She’s talking about his first wife," my grandma interjected, "it’s true."
"Then why didn’t I hear about it in the newspaper or television," my dad asked.
"Because he cheated on his crippled wife after she gained twenty pounds with the rich, young heiress Cindy! He cheated on his first wife after he came back from Vietnam!"
"Oh. Well he probably unstable after he came back."
"Unstable!?!?!? How can he have been unstable and you want to elect him president!!?!?!?"
"He’s not unstable anymore."
"NOT UNSTABLE ANYMORE!!!!"
"Plus at least he married the person he cheated with."
"WHAT!!!!!! SO, IF EDWARDS CHEATED THEN HE IS SCUM!!! YET, MCCAIN CHEATS AND IT’S OK CAUSE HE WAS A POW!!!"
"Stop yelling, Alyssa. Now be quiet, or you will have to leave the room," stated my mom.
I was fuming but I decided to leave the room. It was no point pushing it with them. They will never change their mind.
Now after, watching the Biden speech and Barack come out, I feel better. Now I only have three more months to survive. Hopefully I will be vindicated. ;]