Photo courtesy of Reggie Harris
I’m leafing through a stack of protest signs in the corner of the mudroom, reading the markered letters, looking to see what can be recycled for tonight. The subjects we’ve collected thus far are about human rights and the environment. It looks like we’ll need to draft something fresh and new for tonight, since the topic is healthcare. Our Republican congressman, John Faso, has an 89.7% track record for voting “Yes” on Trump initiatives. He hasn’t been holding town meetings with constitutents, he and his staff have stopped responding to letters, I’ve never had a phone call even answered, and his recent vote to repeal ObamaCare in the House has sparked this last minute protest down in the Village of Schoharie, where he’s the keynote speaker at a county-wide Republican fundraiser.
I’m not a big fan of crowds. I don’t even like meetings. But the elections last November showed me that even the introverts need to emerge from our shells and make our voices heard.
As much as I dislike and distrust our current national administration, I also deeply value community harmony. Where national politics and economics fail, I have a deep belief that local community can survive. But Trump won Schoharie County by a margin of 3-1. And the past few months, for me, have been tough.
I don’t like to disagree with my neighbors. I’m one of those people who habitually waves at every person driving down our rural roads. I like to talk about the weather, about local issues, about who’s having surgery, about whose daughter is coming for a visit, about who’s cleaning out their garage, who’s having a baby. I can remember those things and carry on intelligent conversation. When it comes to national politics, however, I’m completely rattled. In the face of someone who disagrees with me, I’m so flustered by the fact there isn’t harmony, so worried that our friendship could be fractured, I lose my ability to be articulate about issues.
But national politics, in my estimation, are now dire. There is too much at stake for me to spend all my time in my comfort zone. Saoirse and Ula are following the issues now, too, and it would be irresponsible for Bob and me to encourage political discussion at home, but then fail to empower them with the democratic tools available to them to influence change. So I’ve chosen among my discomforts: rather than talking one on one with my neighbors about my feelings and opinions, I’ve been pushing through my anxiety about being around lots of people. Part of me wonders if my choice to stand among like-minded souls is more cowardly than talking one-on-one, but I cut myself some slack. It’s better than doing nothing.
On this spring evening, Bob, the girls and I write catchy phrases on the backs of some of the other protest signs we’ve amassed, load into the car, stop at the bank, stop at the grocery store, then make our way over to the protest.
One hundred eighty-five of us have gathered outside the hotel where Congressman Faso is scheduled to speak. That’s a big crowd for a rural republican county, especially since this all came together at the last minute. Bob, the girls and I walk toward them, and we’re greeted with hugs. We stand among friends, comforted by each other’s presence. The sky is blue, the sun is warm on our backs.
Attendees for the fundraising dinner begin to drive by. We hold up our signs. The drivers don’t make eye contact. A few flip us the bird. Bob Neid, our organizer and local agitator extraordinaire, holds a megaphone to his lips.
“Tell me what democracy looks like!” He shouts.
And we all know how to respond, no prior coaching necessary.
This is what democracy looks like!
For a little while, no one drives past headed for the dinner. Being a great lover of the written word, I’ve found in the past few months that protest signs are their own literary form, and I’ve come to enjoy reading them. While it’s quiet, Saoirse and I take off down the line to appreciate the creativity of our fellow protesters. As we walk, I meet up with farm customers, former teachers, and a lot people I’ve not seen in years. We laugh, we share design tips for re-usable posters. Some people turn their signs around and show on the back the list of every protest they’ve attended this year, the way others might collect spoons from tourist destinations.
A flush of cars arrive. We turn our attention to them and hold up our signs. We sing out different chants:
Hey Hey – Ho Ho, John Faso has to go!
Healthcare for all, big and small!
And then some fellow farmers drive by, their big pick-ups shiny and clean for the evening.
“Tell me what democracy looks like,” Bob Neid chants.
I know a lot of them. In one truck I see a couple I’ve known my whole life. They helped me do my masters research. They helped me do my dissertation research. They recognize me. We lock eyes.
Is this confrontation? Is this the very thing I’ve been trying to avoid?
He gets a little twinkle in his eye and gives me a nod. She smiles widely and waves at me.
Then I begin to laugh. I forgot! He’s a republican. She’s a democrat.
Now they’re both laughing, too.
“This is what democracy looks like!” The crowd cheers back.
And then I hear it up and down the line. “Hey! That’s my neighbor!” Another protester lifts his arm and waves to someone else driving down the line. “Looks like he’s feeling better after his surgery!” Another little wave back from the car.
“Hey! Those are my neighbors! I didn’t know they’d be coming out to something like this!” Another nod. Another wave of greeting between protestor and republican driver.
Tell me what democracy looks like!
This is what democracy looks like!
I discover a new comfort zone. I am who I am. I believe what I believe. And all of us in that line are facing the same thing: Public dissent, when harmony is a matter of rural culture, survial, and quality of life. But with the support of fellow citizens who share our opinions, we find the courage to speak up about these issues that we find appalling. And then, on the other side, we see our neighbors. And all those nods, all those little waves on the road, all those pleasantries at the grocery store, become hugely valuable. For the sake of preserving relationships, direct words may not be exchanged. But the communication is happening nonetheless.
Tell me what democracy looks like…
Maybe its imperfect. Maybe it’s provincial. But I’ll own it. In Schoharie County, this is what democracy looks like.
Photo here courtesy of Nancy Daynard. Photo at the top courtesy of Reggie Harris.
You echo several of my sentiments, Shannon. A meaningful
anecdotal essay.
Well said, keeper of sanity that you are! Just have faith that this too shall pass- and we may return to our roots, our families, our friends, our existences- soon! Americans among us who made “the big mistake” will, given time, realize that we are a country filled with tons of love for all of our people and one infantile man cannot bring his miserable existence into our homes without incredible resistance! Keep on saying what needs to be said Shannon. We are with you girl!
Oh, I love this post! We live in the boonies in the Northwest wilderness. Talk about rural. And prior to the election, there were many, many Trump signs in people’s yards. Sigh.
But despite how much I disagree with the Trump supporters, many of my neighbors, we need to continue to have a relationship despite those differences…
You painted a touching picture in your post, one I really can relate to. Thanks for sharing!
Shannon,
I like to read your blog, even though I know we disagree on at least some things. I strongly support what you are doing in your community and with the land you care for – and I love the wool throw I ordered from you last year for my daughter.
I also believe it is vitally important that friendships and relationships remain intact when families and communities disagree – even on important things. But I would offer some questions:
Was there disagreement before this election – perhaps strong disagreement on the previous administrations- among your neighbors? Were they also afraid to articulate the issues? Was the 3:1 vote in November their form of protest? Isn’t that also what democracy looks like?
I am not a fraction of the writer you are, and sending this makes me as uncomfortable as you describe yourself, but to sum up my thoughts: I agree with what I think is the point of your post, but I really question the heading on Facebook, ” What’s Donald Trump doing to rural America.” I think rural America is smart enough to choose what they think is best for themselves and their families – or at least to give something else a chance.
Good post Shannon. I live in rural western Canada, so look at American politics through a different lens than you do. We also have a government here that is doing things against the wishes of many citizens and is causing quite a rural/urban divide. With any government though, there are staunch supporters of each party, but I also think there are many who will agree will some of the policies of each. So at election time, those citizens need to weigh themselves which policies and ideals are most important to them at that time, and vote accordingly. I’m sure there were many who voted for Trump, not because they agree with everything he does, but because on the issues that were in their hearts at the time, they believed his speeches over the competitors. And like you say, we can still be neighbours, friends and polite to one another despite those differences. I do hope that things bode well for us rural farmers on both sides of the border.
Since I started to vote at age 18 I have had a political hangover, too many poli-tic-ians making money off of the community’s needs and causing rifts. So I keep telling my kids you need to take it in prayer and not let the poli-tics break and destroy your community. No matter who is running at some point they will bend things to their side of their needs to get re-elected and/or pay off someone due to some promise. They will be gone and we still must live on. As for differences, they are excellent, as I am a conservative liberal and a liberal conservative and our job and duty as Americans is to listen to each other and ask questions out of utter ignorance so we can learn from each other and then come up with better plans and answers, that said there will always be room for improvement and its about the journey. This is a fallen world, but we must live with each other, and most importantly love each other whatever stage of life we may be at. I think all of us as Schoharians have learned that and seen it in action since the floods. As always Shannon you write so well and God always hears your concerns and prayers by answering in the most interesting ways. I am sure I will always feel the same about poli-tics, even if my own family was in office, because as humans we err, we need each other to make things fair for the hungry and poor- of the body, mind and soul. We must always defend righteousness but take care of each other and find a way to do that in peace. Thanks Regg for the picture and glad you made it out there.
Funny for the day from my kids since we talk politics-for the writer and the silly in us all-
“The political and commercial morals of the United States are not merely food for laughter, they are an entire banquet.”
~ Mark Twain
“One of the penalties for refusing to participate in politics is that you end up being governed by your inferiors.”
~ Plato
Politics is the art of being wrong. The name is based on the words Poly and Ticks, Poly meaning many, and ticks meaning blood sucking parasites. Politics therefore means many blood thirsty parasites. Basically, these politics/politiks or politicians exist to drink the blood of the citizens of a nation.
http://uncyclopedia.wikia.com/wiki/Politics
Today will be yesterday and tomorrow will always come so don’t fret about today, just do your best, move on and pray.
When our post office was larger, was open full time and our clerks chattier, Dems, Repubs, religious and not so much, etc… would respectfully debate issues and seem to come to the same consensus but from different angles, a healthier, saner, less expensive, fairer way of life. No yelling. A lot of laughter. Much agreeing as if we will solve this problem here and now. And we felt like we did. But we felt alone because we didn’t understand why can’t they?
You’re sadly misinformed. Good minds like yours educated by the propaganda press aka mainstream media is such a waste. Of course as a farm wife you don’t have time to research theses things and that’s very much understood however it’s a shame you had to ruin things by getting political. I’ll be unsubscribing as a result
MAGA President Trump!!!!
Hiya Mary;
While it saddens me that you’ll be leaving our community, I’m delighted you took the time to read and subscribe as long as you have…..It’s funny how many private hate emails I get from folks who suggest to me, as you have, that a farm woman who’s handy in the kitchen shouldn’t have political views, and most certainly shouldn’t share them publicly. Is it better if folks believe we’re a brainless dithering lot, handy only with a pot and spoon? I applaud your courage in making your voice public…especially in light of the fact that the majority of the country did not vote for this president.
Shannon, You are so graceful.
Hey
I enjoyed your post very much having brought up a topic I can’t quite figure out yet. See I am an independent, have been since the day I registered for the draft. Even then ( a long time ago – lets leave it at that) I could not understand how people could blindly follow and vote for a party and not a person. Having said that , I slightly lean towards Calvin Coolidge’s statement that the business of America is business. Without a strong economy, jobs, freedom to pursue any career we wish and military, with little government involvement in our lives, we don’t have a democracy. I voted for Trump because strong men and women of accomplishment ensure that these freedoms endure. BUT, you are right, we have become so polarized that I’m afraid to even speak civily and openly about why and who I voted for so to not start a heated argument and lose friends. I’m not going to stop purchasing your outstanding meats and other products because we did not vote for the same candidate. And I still believe what little conversations we have at the market will continue to be pleasant and welcoming. I love that. Having different political opinions and being civil about it I S WHAT DEMOCRACY LOOKS LIKE.
Hey
I enjoyed your post very much having brought up a topic I can’t quite figure out yet. See I am an independent, have been since the day I registered for the draft. Even then ( a long time ago – lets leave it at that) I could not understand how people could blindly follow and vote for a party and not a person. Having said that , I slightly lean towards Calvin Coolidge’s statement that the business of America is business. Without a strong economy, jobs, freedom to pursue any career we wish and military, with little government involvement in our lives, we don’t have a democracy. I voted for Trump because strong men and women of accomplishment ensure that these freedoms endure. BUT, you are right, we have become so polarized that I’m afraid to even speak civily and openly about why and who I voted for so to not start a heated argument and lose friends. I’m not going to stop purchasing your outstanding meats and other products because we did not vote for the same candidate. And I still believe what little conversations we have at the market will continue to be pleasant and welcoming. I love that. Having different political opinions and being civil about it I S WHAT DEMOCRACY LOOKS LIKE.
Great thoughts, James, all of them. Thanks for sharing your thinking on these things in such a reflective and kind way. We need dialogue, that’s for certain!