Posted on 03/23/2015 7:50:35 PM PDT by 2ndDivisionVet
Ted Cruz? Lizzie is a liberal like me now. But what if one day she embraces the Tea Party, like her grandparents?
My parents are Tea Party. I’m a liberal. My husband is to the left of your average communist. Dinners together walk a tightrope of small talk — none of us wanting to veer too far in either direction, frightened we’ll go careening into a political abyss. Our daughter, Lizzie, is always a safe topic. She’s our Switzerland.
But I’m not sure how much longer that will last. Lizzie, at 12, is becoming politically aware.
She’s always been well informed. Not that she had much of a choice. After the 2000 election and before her first birthday, she participated in her first protest. I stuffed her in her bright green baby backpack and headed to Times Square. There, she grinned and drooled as tourists in fanny packs and white tennis shoes yelled mean things at a dozen of us who were demanding that votes be counted. They weren’t, thanks to the Supreme Court, and George W. Bush was sworn in — thus assuring that Lizzie’s formative years had ample opportunities for protest. Her favorite was the huge antiwar rally in Central Park, when she was 3. There were balloons and face painting — and the playground near the park was more exciting than the ones back in Brooklyn, N.Y., where we then lived. Riding the train home, she waved her small paper flag like a sword and chanted, “No Twar! No Twar!” Then she yawned and asked for her sippie cup.
I don’t want to indoctrinate my child into the cult of my political beliefs. I want her to make up her own mind. But, since she’s a kid, she mirrors our beliefs, as her friends do their parents’. If I were a neo-Nazi, a Know Nothing, or a Glenn Beck-watching right-winger, she would probably share my misguided views. But I’m a Prius-driving, composting liberal — and therefore so is Lizzie. (Except the driving part — at 12, she doesn’t yet. Thankfully.) It’s not like we sit her down with Karl Marx flashcards or whisper Howard Zinn to her as she sleeps, but we talk a lot at dinner, discussing politics and what’s going on not just in our neighborhood or city, but in the world. (We recently chatted about climate change and chocolate eclairs — and, because my husband is a historian, she probably knows more about Alger Hiss than any other kid her age.) But how to balance the way we view the world with how other people do? How to show her both sides of the political picture?
Our family dinners are very different from those when I was a kid. Back then, we didn’t discuss politics at the dinner table — or anywhere else. Our household was more of a dictatorship, with my dad’s conservative beliefs reigning supreme. There was no room for dissent and none encouraged. When I was in second grade, I made up my own mind about an election. Our teacher gave us each a copy of the Weekly Reader, which still smelled of fresh newsprint. One story was about the ’72 election and we got to vote! I’d checked the box next to McGovern’s head. It was a nice head, I’d thought. He looked so kind compared to that Nixon fellow. I skipped to our house, no doubt wearing an outfit like a plaid jumper with a bow affixed to my hair, something that would have fit in more in, say, 1964 Omaha rather than 1972 San Francisco, where we lived at the time. I have no way to prove this scientifically, but I’m pretty sure we were the squarest family in San Francisco. While other kids were singing along to the Rolling Stones’ “Brown Sugar,” we attended an Up With People concert.
Dropping my plastic school satchel on the ground, I proudly pulled out the secret ballot to show my parents. “No one in our house votes Democratic!” my dad scolded. He was joking, of course, but I still felt ashamed, like I’d just admitted I loved macrame plant holders or hippies. How could I have been so wrong? I should have voted for Nixon! My parents later did, and he won. Meanwhile, I slunk off, feeling like I’d committed a crime — as the man my parents voted for soon would. I have no idea if I crumbled up that Weekly Reader or if my mom eventually stuffed it in the trash. In my mind, I picture myself crumbling it up, my first foray into politics a horrid mistake.
But do my husband and I truly encourage dissent with our daughter? What if Lizzie decides she wants to volunteer for whomever runs on the GOP ticket in 2012? She’ll be in eighth grade then. Would I drive her to help with that campaign? I happily drove all over eastern Pennsylvania when she wanted to canvass for Obama. She held pamphlets as we meandered door to door, encouraging registered Democrats to vote. Would I do the same quite as cheerfully if she supported Michele Bachmann or Mitt Romney? I don’t think so. But I honestly can’t see Lizzie embracing a Republican candidate. For her, politics is all about values, and for now, at least, she values fairness and the environment.
And how to explain “values” and the coded semantics of political language to a kid? During a recent local election, Lizzie and I trawled the voters’ guide, which was filled with names and photos of candidates and blurbs about their positions on various issues. One candidate had written she supported “family values.” I muttered, “Uh-oh. I’ll stay away from her.”
“But Mom, aren’t family values a good thing? Our family has values,” she said, puzzled.
I tried to explain that those “family values” were often quite different from what our family values.
If she someday embraces “family values,” the Tea Party or other right-wing agendas, could it damage my relationship with her? Although I try to understand my parents’ political beliefs, I don’t. When I see what Newsmax “article” or Wall Street Journal editorial my father “likes” on Facebook, or glance at a photo, taken a few years back, of my folks dressed as McCain and Palin for Halloween, I feel physically sick. Sometimes it’s hard to even have simple conversations with them. Even the most innocent pleasantry, like “Nice weather,” could spiral out of control if I don’t watch what I say. (For the record, they are loving grandparents and are far more gracious than I am about not bringing up delicate topics.) If my dad says, “I bet you guys are happy you’re not back east this winter. All that snow in New York.” I’m tempted to mutter something about climate change, but instead I bite my tongue and say, “Yes, in Portland we don’t have to shovel rain.”
It sometimes seems my parents and I are as divided as Congress, neither side understanding the other’s point of view. But when I’m around them, I’m somehow whisked right back to adolescence. I morph into a sullen 16-year-old with no power, whose views are considered childish. I want to engage, to discuss topics calmly with them, but my emotions knock any possibility of cool-headed debate out of the way. All my facts and statistics — the cornerstone of rational debate — get gummed together in my mouth by raw emotion and I only manage to get out incoherent raw ravings. And if history is any indication of the future, I’m doomed to repeat myself.
I wish I could calmly debate issues like my husband does. Or maybe I should take a lesson from Lizzie. The truth is, she can teach me a thing or two about politics. Instead of getting scorched by the heat of the moment, like I do, she’s cool and collected. She listens intently. Then a question she asks will sum up the prejudice of the other side quite succinctly. “Why don’t Grammy and Grampy want Charlie’s moms to get married? That’s not fair.”
And she’s right. It’s not.
***
To mark Salon’s 20th anniversary, we’re republishing memorable pieces from our archives; this piece originally appeared in summer 2011.
****
Sue Sanders' essays have appeared in national and local magazines and newspapers. Her stories have been included in the anthologies "Ask Me About My Divorce" and "Women Reinvented." She lives in Portland, Oregon with her stash of books -- not a parenting guide among them.
I morph into a sullen 16-year-old with no power, whose views are considered childish.
Because dear, that is what you ARE.
Her grandchildren will curse her memory from their totalitarian hell.
Is incredible that this incoherent babbling actually passes for liberal apologetics.
Liberals are just openly insane. Listening to them is like listening to a paranoid schizophrenic.
No problem with that.......
Then after talking about the NCAA tournament for a few minutes, my very liberal brother, as he usually does, brought up politics.
Did I mention my brother is a hard liberal? He just couldn't believe I didn't love King Barack and all the wonderful things he's done for the country.
Of course, I didn't share my brother's love of Dear Leader, so the conversation got pretty contentious. We went back and forth. He was convinced the middle class is disappearing because the rich don't pay enough in taxes, Obama is responsible for the "great" economy, free market capitalism doesn't work, socialist Europe is a better place to live than here, etc...the usual leftist rant.
I replied with the standard conservative mantra about too much government and an assortment of facts and statistics...the one percent pay 40% of all fed. income taxes.... many socialist European countries, like Greece, are going bankrupt....social security is a Ponzi scheme....etc.
Nothing I said made a dent in my brother. He was convinced I hadn't read enough leftist literature or watched enough leftist tv programs. I told him I'd read and seen all the leftist stuff when I was younger.
He asked me why I could turn conservative. I told him it was because, thanks to the internet, talk radio, and library research, I learned what a pile of lies liberalism is.
Mercifully we finally ended the conversation . I wished him well, and he said he hoped I got better too. I laughed at that last remark of his knowing what he meant.
I've had these same conversations with some of my equally lib sisters. The info I give them doesn't seem to affect them either. They're absolutely convinced their liberalism is right and just.
I'll keep on giving them info. But we're all getting old. I hope to subvert their children if possible. My plan is to give them information. Unlike my siblings, maybe their children will listen.
Bahh bahh babble
Salon where the effete meet to bleat
“He asked me why I could turn conservative. I told him it was because, thanks to the internet, talk radio, and library research, I learned what a pile of lies liberalism is.”
Got that issue with one of my kids. My standard answer is that I understand history, economics and context, and believe in reason, responsibility and accountability. I then tell him we will agree to until he comes to his senses.
Still repeating a lie. Some day mama should grow up.
She admits that her husband is the Left of the ‘average’ Communist. She is stuck on stupid, if that is the case.
Be sure to remind any liberal mocking Cruz that there hatred is OBVIOUSLY based in anti-Latino racism.
If they have any question about that, refer them to Black Racist Congressman Bennie D-MS, about this.
House Democrat: Basically All Criticism of Obama is Straight-up Racism
http://townhall.com/tipsheet/guybenson/2014/04/30/house-democrat-basically-all-criticism-of-obama-is-straightup-racism-n1831285
If you have any money, than your husband is a LIAR. Most people who label themselves "communists" are just plain liars who refuse to live the ideology they claim to believe in.
In a fair world, they wouldn't own a pot to piss in, but I suspect you and your husband both have a fair amount of filthy capitalist lucre. You see, it's only evil when OTHER people have it.
“I’m a liberal. My husband is to the left of your average communist.”
Those words would haunt me in the dead of the night if I used them to describe myself. She might as well say she’s decided to join a satanic cult. Obviously, neither the woman nor the man are aware of the true horror of communism.
And their daughter...not indoctrinated...that’s a laugh. They don’t have reason on their side, so they have to indoctrinate. You can’t make sense if you don’t have sense.
“I urge you to take your children to environmentally responsible tattoo parlors.”
Liberal Sue Sanders
Salon: still chock-full of lefty fag cock-tractors.
Well, I guess the difference between me and a liberal is that I wouldn’t “not let” my kids vote however they choose. What’s she gonna do? Hold a gun on them?
Exactly right, in my experience.
LOL!!! That is a keeper!
I have almost the same resume as you do, only I was Marine Corps. I was tempted once to get a bird, ball and hook. I got over it. No tattoos.
Or is Communism on the edge of The Outer Limits?
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