Followed by Cass Epstein song in my mind, I waded into the scary crowd at "Congress on Your Corner with Rep. Jared Polis."
http://www.box.net/...
I ended up standing next to a young woman and her mother when we were approached by a public (yes, public!) radio reporter asking if we had a story to tell her. The young woman had a most powerful story even among the horrific stories we've been hearing. She doesn't get insurance through work and has been trying for over a year to buy coverage. She is diabetic; no one will take her. Insurance agents won't even talk to her. For the last year, she has managed her diabetes without being able to afford more than the most essential basics. This does not include seeing a doctor, an opthalmologist or endocrinologist or any of the more expensive treatments.
Then she added, "My younger sister got thyroid cancer last year. When she graduates from college next spring, she won't have insurance either." The mother stood behind her, echoing details. They didn't cry as they related their story. They talked in clear calm voices. How does this mother stand it?
Lost in my thoughts about the impact of so many young people without health care at the beginning of their adult lives, my attention was suddenly brought back to an interaction going on between the young woman and a group of older men and women to our left holding signs with scary warnings against reform. Their voices were raised. The mother got involved. And then she gave up but the others kept coming at her, screaming at her, "You are so obnoxious!" You are the epitome of what we're against!" What??? A working mother passionate about getting health care for her ill daughters? This is the epitome of what these people are against???
I moved close and stood almost full body touching the attacked mother's back so she wasn't alone against these women in her face. She pulled back from them again and tried to disengage from the uselessness, but they kept coming at her, venting anger and hatred, like a pack of dogs who, once threatened, can't stop barking and snapping.
Into the wild hysteria of older self righteous screamers, the slight young woman stepped forward again with a quiet explanation of her urgency, that without proper care, her diabetes could lead to life-threatening complications and that she just wanted the chance to buy coverage. Faced with a human consequence of this fight, the older bigger woman deflated and said, "Yes, something needs to change." And so we came to the best end I've so far seen we've managed to get to in these conversations--they'll admit that it's not okay for people to be denied health care and yet they offer no ideas. Not their responsibility? Have to say it feels like its mine.
I hung around a while longer but I couldn't open my heart and engage. Some people tried fruitlessly to get the crowd to chant, or sing songs like "We Shall Overcome." The crowd was quiet. No music moved us together that day.
Where was the visible spirit and unity of our cause that gave us strength during the campaign, when our happiness and hope sang over ugliness, hatred and fear? What have we lost and how do we get it back? Can we stop looking to Obama, who now carries the weight of the United States Presidency on his shoulders, to also carry us on those same shoulders?
There are people who have been in this struggle for a long time. MLK had many strong souls marching alongside him every time. They are still around. They've helped me learn how to persevere in schools over the years. We need to find them now.
Ever since that evening, I've worried that I didn't think to make sure the young woman knew about the state option for "uninsurables." Or I could have given her the name of my compassionate insurance agent friend. Now I go to events and search for that mother and her daughter just in case they could use that information. How could I give up? How could we not take care of her?