Bernie is my New Rock Star!
Recent declarations by Gloria Steinem and Madeleine Albright denigrating Bernie Sanders' supporter constituencies have raised my ire!!!!
I was flabbergasted to read Steinem’s quote, and even more taken aback to read the full context, seeing that Bill Maher actually gave Steinem an opportunity to recant her statement, or to, in the least, clarify it in a manner which may have seemed reasonable. But no, Gloria Steinem simply chose to flush her entire legacy down the proverbial toilet with perhaps the most anti feminist, casually hetero sexist, generational assault she could have mustered. In a naked fear based defense against a perceived loss of political power she firmly aligned herself with entrenched interests, those of Hillary.
By Albright's logic, I may as well have voted for Sarah Palin.
I recognize democracy is not a spectator sport, and that participation at the local level is what builds true movements which ensure a healthy, functioning governing system. I participated in peace marches in Washington in my college days, and I have served on a few boards in my small New England town. I show up for gay pride, sometimes volunteering on planning committees. I stand up against war. I march for women's rights for sovereignty over our own bodies, ever aware of the encroachment against our bodily sovereignty in general by the money motives of western medicine, pharmaceutical interests, and bankers.
My activism has waned over time, however, as my metabolism and drive has diminished with age and the pressing concerns of daily life. I have considered attending more demonstrations in recent years, and have made a showing from time to time as necessity and urgency has peaked, particularly concerning the Black Lives Matter movement. And climate change notwithstanding, I have succumbed to the temptation to "let the younger folks do the work this time around" more often than I want to admit.
So it's a bit ironic that the catalysts who have moved me from my sofa back onto the street, waving political signs, crossing state lines to campaign for Bernie, to reach beyond the comfortable and predictable demographic of my local academic community, are my former heroines: Gloria Steinem and Madeleine Albright. They were my rock stars.
As a child of the seventies in predominantly Irish Catholic suburbs of Boston I was no stranger to misogyny-- subtle, overt, familial, cultural, and institutionalized. My personal progress was thwarted repeatedly by these forces throughout my developing years. My distress at the defeat of the Equal Rights Amendment was beyond disappointment. I was disillusioned, crushed. My tender teenage heart was broken. I searched for role models to buoy my sinking spirit. And I found Gloria Steinem.
Ms. Magazine was bold and brash. Gloria was articulate and charismatic. She had great media presence, a sharp mind, and a quick tongue. Gloria Steinem became my anchor, even as she floundered about in the tumult that was the transition from the Carter to the Reagan years.
Those were dark times: twelve years of Reagan & Bush, the CIA having captured the White House. Heavy sighs heave from my chest as I reflect upon it.
The reverse swing of the national political pendulum finally arrived with the first Clinton campaign. I wept as Bill Clinton was swept into office with high approval ratings. His appointment of Madeleine Albright to Secretary of State brought giddiness, literally, to my still young feminist soul. I drank in her media presence, her tough mindedness, her competence and leadership.
Doors opened wider, more and more of them. My fledgling career as a female remodeling contractor didn't seem so far fetched after all. I started to make grand plans for myself, to envision a future with endless possibilities.
Eight years of overall growth peppered with a few economic anomalies and a minor scandal here and there seemed more than acceptable. Jesse Jackson's Rainbow Coalition had a palpable presence in national policy discussions, and female artists dominated the airwaves, including Jewel, Alanis Morisette, Tori Amos, Melissa Etheridge, Sarah McGlachlan, Sophie B. Hawkins, and Natalie Merchant. These were expansive times.
In hindsight, I should have seen the overall whitewashing, I should have acknowledged the discomfit. Looking back, I can not ignore the harbingers glaring in plain sight. Even if one generously overlooks investigations into such matters as Whitewater or the death of Vince Foster as discredited, or the Monica Lewinsky scandal as simply none of my business, legislation introduced by President Bill Clinton while married to current presidential contender Hillary Clinton has had far reaching negative impacts upon me personally.
It may not be fair to weigh the misdeeds of a former president against his wife, current presidential contender or not. Except that marriage is a partnership. And if one member of a partnership has completely lost my trust, there's no way I'm placing that trust with the one who still shares his bed.
There's the dismantling of Glass-Steagall, NAFTA, DOMA, Don't Ask Don't Tell. Looking back, I was willing to accept each of these events as blips on the radar, as concessions to fame and scrutiny in the context of human, imperfect lives. I was willing to accept, to wait out, future explanations that would balance my personal losses against the needs of the greater good, the party platform.
Yet taken together, or even separately, each of these legislative measures, and these are just the glaring instances, betrays a culture of corruption, of abject greed, of disloyalty, of selling out.
I no longer need a polished, charismatic media made celebrity to project my hopes on to. Dire circumstances require sober, thoughtful decision making, my own, and my president's. I want my POTUS to be a nerdy policy wonk, the real deal, a public servant of integrity through and through. And I will continue to stand out on street corners, waving my signs, organizing locally, to support Bernie and his rightful successors.
Because Friends Don't Let Friends Vote for Billionaires!