Having been a “lurker” on Daily Kos for several years now, and rapidly gobbling up diaries like fresh chocolate chip cookies, I had always wanted to contribute but never quite overcame my fear. In truth, I was intimidated by the superb writing I found on the site by so many blog veterans.
I still am – but thanks to the recent diary of AlyoshaKaramazov that encouraged others to offer up positive and personal messages about progressive ideas, I found my courage (plus, I got a little nudge from Daily Kos regular Adam B). So…. I humbly offer up some thoughts on what being a progressive means to me, and a story on how I came to believe what I do. I hope you like it.
I was born on the South Side of Chicago, a child of college professors. My mother was both an artist and a union leader, serving for many years as an officer of the University Professionals of Illinois. She was a remarkable woman, full of energy and a stubborn love of justice. Having finished graduate school in New York City in the 1960s, she was filled with a rebellious optimism, truly believing the world could be made better through the sweat of our brows and a smile on our faces. She died in 2004 after a year-long struggle with lung cancer; she refused to go down without a fight, and worked hard almost until the very end.
Here’s a pivotal moment where she brought it home for me – why I am a lifelong progressive and what that term means in my life.
The scene: many years ago in Chicago. I am an earnest but awkward teenager, walking down the street with some new acquaintances, the sort of people I favored – anti-establishment, a little grungy, intelligent. We are approached by a bedraggled guy, panhandling for spare change. I had already formed the habit at this age of giving a few coins at moments such as this, because it seemed like the right thing to do, and I was a well-raised kid who wanted to do what was right in the world. I tossed the man 50 cents. Then, this:
“hey man, don’t do that!” scolded one of the two guys with me, tossing his long hair indignantly. “yeah,” chimed in his friend, “they just waste it on drugs or beer. Its not constructive. Give to a shelter or buy them food, otherwise you’re just making things worse.”
I was stunned into embarrassed silence, feeling the fool in front of people who seemed to have all the answers. Sheesh. Was I indeed making things worse?
Maybe I should have just shrugged it off, but I was a sensitive kid. I pondered this incident over the course of several days, without any resolution. Was my moral compass glued to the damn fridge magnet and giving me a false reading of true North? Was I giving just to feel better about myself, without realizing it?
I had already established that whenever I got stuck in life, I knew what to do – ask my mother. So I did, hoping she would offer the magic words to solve my dilemma. And boy, did she ever. I suspect neither she nor I realized it at the time, but she was expressing an idea that expanded to serve me as a guiding star ever since.
After I told her the story and rolled out my dilemma, she didn’t hesitate. With a smile, she said “Oh yeah? How do you know he wasn’t going to buy food? And do you or your friends never drink a beer? Isn’t everyone entitled to make their own choices? Just because someone is poor and in need, who says we decide what they should and should not do to seek happiness?” Then, with a gentle squeeze on the back of my neck, she finished: “don’t attach strings to your good deeds. A homeless guy needs charity, and he is your equal.”
He is my equal.
And there is it was, a lighthouse winking in the fog. The idea, often made trite by repetition, but truly what I believe is a core progressive value – don’t judge, because we are all equal.
Now, one could reasonably argue the point of whether giving coins to the guy on the corner is a good or bad idea. Certainly giving prudently to a shelter or other organization is a laudable act, and perhaps more productive than tossing the occasional change. But that wasn’t exactly the point my mother was making. She was taking to task the notions of superiority and moral judging. She was warning against the easy path to scorn towards those we deem “lesser” than us.
What my mother was articulating was a central tenet of what I wish for myself and for everyone else – that we are treated as equals, with equal dignity and kindness, giving each an equal dollop of trust and respect. And the example she chose is enormously relevant in contemporary discourse. We should treat as equal men and women, straight and gay, light-skinned or dark-skinned, yes, absolutely. But also of key importance: rich and poor. Those with means and those without. And the corollary to equal treatment, my mother would suggest, is that we must not be quick to judge others on the basis of our differences.
This, I believe, is something that progressives strive for, both personally and as a collective voice in society. The current alarming trend towards demonizing the poor, assuming the worst in people because of their station in life, troubles me deeply. As does the glorification of the wealthy, with the not-so-hidden assumption that they got there because they were somehow special or gifted. Worse yet, the even more problematic implication that their success may even be the work of divinity, and therefore the lack of success suggests divine disfavor.
So many examples of this could be cited: the concept of drug testing for public aid beneficiaries, the pernicious scapegoat image of the “47%” (or, for those of us remembering the Reagan years, the “welfare queen”), the favoring of corporations and the wealthy in our tax code compared to decades past with any protest derided as “class warfare”.
Articulating a progressive vision and supporting progressive candidates for office means suggesting a better path. A path where we start with the basic assumption that we should make the world as fair and equal as possible for all people. I fervently hope that we can make this a reality. If we can, I know my mother will be smiling.
2:37 PM PT: Thrilled to be on the community spotlight - didn't really know what that meant until Adam B just explained it to me. Thanks to whomever made that happen! Very happy to be getting more involved in this remarkable DailyKos community.