It’s Not a Democracy if We Don’t Vote!

“Hi There! Is your voter registration up to date?” I asked a woman walking into the library.

“No thank you!” replied the woman in an agitated huff. “I’m just trying to go to the library!” she muttered sharply as she rushed away. She opened the glass doors and disappeared into the air conditioning. I glanced down at my clipboard, with “Register to Vote” neatly written on the back, baffled. “She must not have understood what we were asking.” I said to my friend.

But a few minutes later, the librarians emerged and told us that we could not be so close to the doors and we were not allowed to sit in the chairs in front of the library. “Those are for patrons!” the librarian insisted. She pointed us to a corner at the very edge of the library patio, where only half the patrons could see us.

“You have to stay within this square” she insisted. She knew we were doing non-partisan voter registration, providing a service to the community, but I was still banished.

Voter registration is a surprisingly controversial topic, I’ve discovered. I have been kicked out of the parking lot of an organic grocery store, Starbucks and sadly, even Costco’s sidewalk, despite having my membership card. I politely asked the manager of the organic grocery store if she would allow me to provide this service as a courtesy for the community, but her response was, “How many times do I have to tell you no!”

At Christmas time, many stores allow a salvation army representative to ring a bell and fundraise for a worthy cause, but during election season, helping citizens get their ballots and their voice is somehow offensive.

Registering voters is a significant part of my current job. I stand out in front of the Library of a small Denver suburb and ask people if they need to update their address. I wear no campaign paraphernalia out of respect for the library and consider this a service to the community. When I ask if their registration is current, most people beam or give me a thumbs up and proudly say, “Yes it is!”

“Well done!” I reply. They walk away with a little civic skip in their step.

But I also encounter a startling number who seem to find the concept of voting offensive or beneath them. And some who consider not voting, an act of defiance.

“I’m not voting.” One woman told me, “I don’t like either candidate!”

“What about the local candidates?” I called after her.

A young man with black hair and black lipstick told me, “I hate this system. I am not voting because I’m a conscientious objector!” This didn’t make sense to me.

“But your vote is your objection!” I replied.

He shook his head at me.

“You’re just part of the system.” He said. He walked away, refusing to vote.

The incredible right and democratic duty to vote seems lost on the 51 million Americans who are eligible but not registered to vote. But voting defines our democracy. If our citizens don’t vote, then we become an oligarchy or a confederacy. But many Americans simply take this for granted. We can have the best constitution in the world, but if American’s don’t vote, America isn’t a democracy.

Citizens emerging from years of dictatorship, understand this clearly. They take the right to vote very seriously.

As I watched the ‘conscientious objector’ walk away into the publicly funded library, my mind flashed back to October 2005, where I stood inside the dusty blue cement walls of an Iraqi polling center, watching Iraqis vote for their first constitution.

I wore a navy blue flack jacket and helmet and a little badge that identified me as an election monitor.  The voting room was simple, holding only a registration table, a ballot table, and a large tupperware voting box with a bottle of purple ink beside it. An Iraqi election worker directed people through this still unfamiliar process.

One woman wearing a black hijab walked past me with her young daughter in tow. She placed a carefully folded ballot in the box, dipped her finger into the orange plastic bottle of purple ink and then departed the ballot room, smiling, broadly.

The room had the atmosphere of a holiday.   Everyone greeted each other, smiling, and wearing their best clothes. Women with children, men in suits, a woman bearing a tribal tattoo on her hand and a teenage girl in a ball cap and western shirt –people deeply divided by ethnic, economic and religious ties – all had one distinguishing characteristic in common – a purple index finger.

Outside, Iraqis stood in long, winding security lines delineated by yellow plastic tape, giving the poling center the aura of a crime scene. The security check, designed to keep people safe while voting, ironically left voters exposed and vulnerable while they waited to enter the station. A few months earlier, during the election for their interim government, 300 poling stations had been attacked and at least 45 voters had been killed. Their purple stained finger – the proof they had voted — made them a target. During the interim election, Sunni militias and Al Qaida affiliates who were protesting the vote, gunned down people with purple fingers. Many people, to keep themselves safe, left the poling center with their fists clenched or kept their hands in their pockets.

That afternoon, when I finished my shift, my driver Luaay was waiting for me. He was standing next to the car and holding his purple index finger out for all to see. “You see, I voted!” he told me, defiantly. “I voted!”

“Well done!” I told him. “Don’t you want to hide your finger?” I asked, casually looking around wondering if his purple finger or my blond hair made us more of a target.

“I don’t care if they see.” He replied, his voice growing fierce and defiant. “I don’t care if these terrorists kill me. I voted. I want the world to know.”

I think about the incredible risk Luaay and the other Iraqis willingly incurred by showing up at these polling centers. Fear of death did not deter them from casting their vote. And yet, I meet Americans every day who refuse to vote because they are annoyed, frustrated, or feel like their vote doesn’t matter. But their vote doesn’t matter only if they don’t vote.

Several days later, at a farmers market, I walked up to a melon stand and asked a young girl working there if she was registered to vote.

“I’m not old enough.” She replied, adjusting a watermelon in front of her.

“Will you be 18 before November 8?” I asked her. With long blond hair and a wiry frame, she looked just on the edge of adulthood. She started at me startled for a moment and replied, “November 8? That’s my birthday!”

“Really!” I said gesturing wildly with my clipboard full of blank voter registration forms. “That’s amazing! You get to vote in this election!” I sounded more like a game show host announcing a prize than a woman on a civic mission on a suburban Saturday.

I extended the clipboard to her with a pen, thrilled that I could be here when she first registered to vote. I expected her to eagerly grab the sheets from my hands and scribble her name with the fervor of freedom. Who wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to have a voice in this Great American Experiment? But instead she backed away a few paces from me and wrinkled her nose as if I had just extended a bag of refuse.

“I’m not gonna do that.” She replied, looking at her feet.

“You don’t want to register to vote?” I asked, confused. “You’re eligible. You can vote in this election.” I extended the clipboard again. And she again refused.

“I don’t want to do that.”

“Why not?” I asked her gently.

“It’s too important a decision. I don’t know how to make it.” She said.

I took a deep breath. I didn’t expect that answer. Society clearly failed this girl if she didn’t have the confidence to vote.

“But you live in this community.” I told her. “You have thoughts.” I paused for a moment and then said, with a little too much conviction, “you are an intelligent, capable young woman whose observations and thoughts matter.” I suggested that she go to the candidate’s websites and take a look at what they are doing.

“You are capable of deciding and it is your right and duty.” I concluded.

She stopped looking down and looked at me for a moment. I thought perhaps I had reached her.

“But you wont be able to make that decision, unless you register to vote.” I extended her the clipboard and she stared at it for a moment. She didn’t back away. Perhaps she was going to take it. But I was interrupted. A man from a neighboring stand approached me and introduced himself as the owner of the farmer’s market. “You can’t be here.” He told me firmly. He was large and intimidating.

“Oh, I’m just registering people to vote.” I said, clarifying that I was providing a service to the community. “You can’t do that here.” He stared at me hard and then said firmly, “leave.”

I took one last look at girl, who was now staring at her shoes, and I walked away, my clipboard drooped at my side. My eyes filled with tears. Angry at the man for not cherishing our democracy and deeply saddened that a young girl can emerge from an American school system feeling like she doesn’t have the capacity to cast her vote.

I thought about Louaay and the Iraqis who risked their lives to exercise their right to vote. They understood that voting and having a voice in government defines a free government.

So, I took my clipboard back to the library. After a few minutes a middle aged woman approached me and asked if she could register to vote. I handed her my clipboard with a smile. She took the two minutes to fill in the forms and handed it back to me.

“Great! Just give me a minute to look it over.” I said – ensuring she had filled it in correctly and she would get her ballot sent to the right place.

“It looks good!” I said, looking up at her. Then I noticed tears in her eyes.

“It’s my first time” she said. I realized that she was a new citizen and this was her first time registering to vote.

“Congratulations.” I told her warmly, extending my hand. She shook it firmly. I then pulled her toward me slightly and whispered, “Welcome to our Democracy. I’m glad you’re on the team.”

She laughed and wiped the tears from her eyes, thanked me and walked away. As I watched her walk away, she seemed to be walking just a little taller.

I smiled and thought to myself, Democracy is safe.

Welcome to America in 1908…It’s Not that Great (Part I)

Writing a book about an early American icon, I often mentally travel to the first two decades of the 20^th century. I usually wake up in the morning in the 21^st century, immerse myself in books, articles and diaries from the early 20^th century and take a stroll through 1908 for a while. In the evening I traverse a century and return to a world where I can own property, vote, drive my own car (with the assistance of Google maps), and rest easily knowing that there are laws and rules protecting civil rights and reinforcing international stability and order.

But when I awoke on Wednesday morning and the dreaded reality washed over me, I felt like I was still in 1908, not 2016. Did I get stuck in the wrong century? Economic downturns and significant regime changes have caused massive migrations around the globe. Immigration and refugees are sparking nationalist and populist movements in the west. Yellow journalism promotes conspiracies and makes the slightest sneeze seem sensational – there is no appetite for truth or nuance. Non-state actors could spark a global war. And it is socially acceptable to condemn or dismiss a person simply based on their religious beliefs or the color of their skin. A populist with a message of xenophobia, racism and isolationism who unabashedly brags about assaulting women and mocking people with disabilities just became the next American President. And the Cubs just won the World Series. Are you sure we’re not time traveling right now?

Let me take you back to 1908 for a moment and you tell me.

Women aren’t people, silly.  They’re women.

 I breathe deeply the polluted streets of Manhattan in 1908 where environmental protections didn’t prevent factories and individuals from dumping garbage, soot and pollutants into the path of the public. Most people endure a persistent cough or asthma. I mentally stroll down the manure-laden streets through a world where women couldn’t own property, died from botched black-market abortions and couldn’t vote. Most of the women I meet in 1908 have experienced repeated sexual assault, especially if they tried to work and earn an income. “You just have to ‘play the game’” they would say. Women endured groping, grabbing and even rape as part of the cost of their employment – especially women on Broadway. Men in positions of power knew that women couldn’t stop them. My great-great grandmother tried to stand up to it — she slapped the managers and stars that demanded sexual compliance from her. She developed a reputation as a ‘kicker.’ But she also lost a lot of jobs as a result. But she never called these men out publicly; the cost to her would have been too high.

These women had no recourse. They advised each other to stay silent and endure it. The women that came forward publicly were socially spurned, told they were liars, and sometimes even jailed. “Stay silent or you’ll be on the street.” They said. “There is nothing you can do.” Said another, “This is just the way men are.”

I ponder our recently elected president who laughed off descriptions of sexual assault as ‘locker room talk’ and publicly shamed, discredited and threatened to sue over a dozen women who publicly accused him of sexual assault. So, tell me, is this 2016 or 1908?

Discrimination Nation

In 2016, when I saw our president elect flap his hands and groan, openly mocking a reporter with Cerebral Palsy, I paused and again questioned the calendar. It hadn’t occurred to me that disabilities were a source of mockery. In 1908, physical disabilities were openly censured, stigmatized and ridiculed. Many with disabilities were forced to be sterilized and sent to asylums in a ‘purification’ effort. Even, in 1908, a politician publicly mocking a disabled person would have been considered poor taste. Although, in 1908, there wouldn’t have been a person with a disability in a public place…

In 1908, xenophobia and racism were an accepted part of America’s fabric. One of my main characters wrote an opinion piece in the New York Times in the early 1900’s describing the new play, Children of the Ghetto, depicting life of a Jewish immigrant family. In his article, he took the time to explain, that yes, just as the play portrayed there were such things as good, generous, and kind Jews. The rest of New York was incredulous. My character, a famous writer, pointed out that they were only doubtful of Jewish motivations and intentions because they didn’t know or have any Jewish friends.

My mind flashed back to his article as I watched refugees from war-torn Syria or immigrants from crime-engulfed central America accused of being rapists, criminals and terrorists by our future President, a man who has never stepped foot in a refugee camp or met an asylum seeker and clearly does not want to.

My jaw dropped when I heard a resounding cheer when our President-elect threatened to ban all Muslims from coming to the US – banning people based on religion in a country founded on the sacred foundation of religious freedom.

The closest approximation to the President-elect’s proposal is the 1907 Immigration Act, which excluded people based on disabilities, mental illness, disease, poverty and polygamy. But even this very discriminatory immigration act didn’t go so far as to outright ban people based on religion. To find a time when religious exclusion was the official position of an American leader, you’ll have to go back to the reign of King George III.

So, tell me, what century is it?

Note: This is a Series Read Part II: Welcome to America in 1898…It’s Not that Great (Part II — Yellow Journalism)

Remember the Maine! Fake News Starts Real Wars!

In the early 1900s, before there was television or radio, there were newspapers. Newspapers had proliferated in the previous decades and become cheaper and more accessible to the masses. Media moguls William Randolph Hearst and Joseph Pulitzer competed to get the most sensation-grabbing headlines and the most outrageous stories to hook the most readers. They had no qualms about distorting headlines, ignoring facts and context to make news entertaining rather than informative. They tried to out-scoop and out-scandalize the other papers, in a desperate attempt to catch an edge in daily newspaper sales.

Today, with the advent of the internet and the proliferation of blogs and on-line media, revenue is based on how many clicks a story gets. The entire goal is for a headline to go ‘viral’ – fact or fiction. So, the more sensational the headline, the more clicks. This incentivizes outlets to create the most sensation-grabbing headlines, the most shocking stories and the most exciting and entertaining news. We have inadvertently re-created an information climate similar to the salacious days of yellow journalism in the 1900s. But yellow journalism doesn’t just promote sensation or conspiracy theories, there are real-life consequences to a misinformed and outraged public.

In 1897, one of Hearst’s reporters in Cuba cabled his boss, “Everything quiet.  There is no trouble here. There will be no war.  Wish to return.” For months, Hearst’s reporters had been writing exaggerated stories about abuses of women and starvation in Spanish concentrations camps in Cuba, generating outrage among the American public. Hearst infamously cabled back to his bored, home-sick reporter, “Please remain. You furnish the pictures and I’ll furnish the war.”

A few months later, in February 1898, a personal letter written by Spain’s ambassador to the US, sharing frank and unflattering opinions about President McKinley, magically appeared on Hearst’s desk. After publishing the private letter, the ambassador was recalled and Spain formally apologized. (Sound familiar? *cough* John Podesta’s e-mails *cough*).

Peace loomed on the horizon, but the following week, the USS Maine exploded and sank off the coast of Cuba. To this day, historians debate the cause of the explosion. Most conclude that an engineering failure in the ship’s boiler caused the ship to combust. But before any investigation was initiated or conclusions were drawn, Hearst slathered his papers with drawings of the sinking ship and the drowning sailors and declared that the Spain had aggressively attacked the vulnerable US battleship.

Spain, concerned about war, agreed to an armistice and to end the concentration camps in Cuba, essentially removing Spain’s military from the American coast. The US got what it wanted, crisis averted, so McKinley thought.

But the public outcry fanned by Hearst was so overwhelming, that President McKinley declared war on Spain and the Spanish-American war began. The battle cry: “To Hell With Spain, Remember the Maine!” reverberated throughout history as a reminder of the lethal power of misperception.

As I moved through the election of 2016, I felt like I had stumbled into a wormhole and landed in the early 1900’s. I had to constantly pull up Google maps, look at my cell phone and the FDA and OSHA websites to remind myself that I’m really in the 21^st century. But I’m still not convinced. Perception seems to shape reality, rather than reality shaping perception. In May, America’s now President-elect heard the news of missing Egypt Air flight 804 and without any evidence unequivocally declared it an act of terrorism.

Several months later the investigators concluded that a fire in the cockpit overwhelmed the crew and caused the crash – possibly an electrical malfunction. But the truth didn’t quell his outcry or gain the 2016 winner of the Electoral College a reputation for being ‘tough on terrorism.’ Being ‘tough on electrical malfunctions’ just doesn’t have the same appeal, so he felt no inhibition on capitalizing on the tragedy to gain support.

A few weeks ago, I watched yellow-journalism overrun America again. I was out campaigning for Hillary in a rural neighborhood in Colorado when I got a call from my Dad.

“Hi Dad.” I said, smiling and panting as I hoofed up a steep hill with my clipboard in hand.   He didn’t even say hello.

“She’s going to be indicted!” he blurted out.

“What?” I asked, pausing, dropping my clipboard to my side. “For what?”

“The e-mails, of course.” He replied. I shook my head and resumed walking. I had read the entire FBI report and concluded that there was nothing remotely illicit surrounding her e-mails.

“Comey opened the investigation” he continued, “He’s going to indict her – it’s all over the news.” He told me. This did give me some pause, but I continued my canvass and decided to withhold any reaction until I could see for myself.  ‘The news’ hadn’t proved a reliable source lately.

That afternoon, when I got back to my computer, I immediately found and read Comey’s letter to Congress.  I rolled my eyes and called my Dad back. “Dad! All the letter says is that Comey found a laptop that could have some Clinton e-mails on it that could be relevant. He’s writing to let them know that he’s going to get permission to look at it. How can he indict her if he hasn’t even opened the e-mails yet!” I told my incredulous father.

“But the news says-”

“The news is speculating, not reporting.” I interrupted, “All they have is this letter and the letter just says they’re going to read some more e-mails. How is that incriminating!”

I continued my work undeterred, but watched in disgust as cable news networks and Facebook went wild, declaring that Comey must have found something incriminating and was going to re-open the investigation. In reality, Comey hadn’t even opened the laptop. Donald Trump declared some unread e-mails, ‘a scandal worse than Water Gate.’ Journalists, usually tasked with holding public figures in check, relished the suspense and drama and simply played Trump’s sound bite and mused, ‘I wonder what Comey will find on the laptop?”

How could such an innocuous story get blown out of proportion? The facts of this story are not particularly interesting or sensational. But since the headline “FBI Director Reopens Investigation” or “Indictment Likely” are much more interesting and attention grabbing no one bothered to write the more accurate headlines of “FBI Director Asks to Read E-mails” or “Clinton Staffer Likely Wrote E-mails to Boss.”

When Comey got a warrant to open the laptop and his team looked at the e-mails, they found that most of the e-mails were duplicates and some were personal. He declared that none were incriminating or worthy of re-opening the investigation. But the damage was done. The mere implication that Comey was going to look at some e-mails from Hillary’s aid set off a fire storm of speculation which resulted in a conviction in the court of public opinion, which is the only court that mattes when votes are on the line.

Today, cable news and on-line news is little better than reality TV — entertainment, sensation, and speculation designed to garner the most attention, not to inform the public. There is no ‘left wing media conspiracy’ manipulating America – we have simply re-birthed yellow journalism. And just as media headlines launched America into the Spanish American War, media headlines sensationalized reality and handed the reigns of the American military to a reality TV star. Welcome back, America, to the age of Yellow Journalism, or in it’s modern iteration – perhaps its orange.

Note: This is a Series Read Part 1: Welcome To America in 1908…It’s not that Great (Part I — Women) 

Welcome to America in 1908…It’s Not that Great (Part II)

Popular Populists and the Election of 1908

History may not repeat itself, but sometimes it rhymes

                           – Someone claiming to be Mark Twain.

The Presidential election of 1908 and the American electoral trauma of 2016 feel like a historical sonnet filled with rhyming couplets. The 1908 campaign between America’s first celebrity politician, William Jennings Bryan, and technocrat William Howard Taft, birthed the media sound bite and was the last time a populist came close to taking the White House. Sound familiar?

In 2016, now that we have elected America’s first populist-president since Andrew Jackson, it’s worth examining Bryan and the election of 1908 and then you tell me what century we’re in.

If you are not familiar with the term, populist does not mean popular. A populist leader pits a homogenous group of citizens against a corrupt ruling elite and minority groups. The French Revolution is an extreme example. Hitler’s Germany also came to power on a populist platform. These historical echoes placed many American’s on high alert when our current President-elect vilified immigrants, minorities, religious groups and women and promised to “drain the swamp” on day one. Trump didn’t run on a republican platform, he ran on a populist platform.

William Jennings Bryan, depicted as a populist snake, consuming the democratic party

The only other populist president elected in America was Andrew Jackson. His reign resulted in the Trail of Tears and the death of over 4,000 Native Americans forcibly removed from their homes. America’s only mass genocide was carried in the face of firm opposition from Congress, a ruling by the Supreme Court and binding international treaties. America doesn’t have a great record for populists.

But rather than comparing America’s future president to Andrew Jackson, it may be helpful to examine a slightly more well-intentioned populist, William Jennings Bryan – America’s first celebrity politician.

Bryan, a popular touring speaker and lawyer, never held major office before his multiple presidential runs. He gained a following by innovating the ‘whistle stop tour’ going from town to town and firing up an audience – the equivalent of a reality TV star before radio or television.

Bryan and his Indiana running mate ran on a platform of overturning the corrupt elite establishment in government and trade protectionism.

In the 1908 campaign, Bryan became the first candidate to use a sound bite to get his message across. Thomas Edison approached Bryan and asked if he could record a two-minute snippet of his speech on a wax cylinder. Bryan agreed and the sound-bite cylinders sold across the country for 35 cents a piece–for the first time the public could hear a candidate’s words in the candidate’s own voice.

Bryan had little experience in public office prior to his presidential bids, having made a name for himself as a lawyer and public speaker. He rose to fame by popularizing a fringe idea, championing the Free Silver movement – advocating to replace the gold standard with silver, which would reduce the debt burden on rural farmers by inflating the dollar. At the time, President McKinley pointed out the dangers of inflating the dollar including diminished personal savings and increasing the price of basic goods. McKinley’s sound economic arguments prevailed. But Bryan and his “Cross of Gold” speech launched him to national fame.

Bryan depicted using a bee keeper smoker with the ‘free silver’ slogan of 16 to 1, to poison the populace with slogans like “Shall the People Rule?”

In 2016, America elected a man who also came to political fame through a fringe idea (and a prime time reality TV show). He mainstreamed the idea that President Obama was not born in America, which the President-elect finally confessed to be false.

While the historic analogies between Bryan and Trump only go so deep (Bryan ended up supporting women’s suffrage, an idea Trump still seems to be re-considering), they are strikingly similar in one category – political ambiguity. Populists are so focused on what they’re against, no one, not even themselves understand, what they’re for.

Bryan flipped back and forth on his policy positions so frequently; no one actually knew what he believed. But his indecisiveness never impacted his popularity, as his personality defined his appeal, not policies.

There may have also been some undertones of racism fueling Bryan’s populist fires, as Teddy Roosevelt, hardly a civil rights activist, received widespread criticism when he invited Booker T. Washington as his guest at the White House and allowed blacks to hold positions in the federal government. The national outcry may have bolstered Bryan’s support and fueled some fires against Teddy Roosevelt’s handpicked successor, Taft.

But even in 1908 America, where racism, misogyny and corruption continued unchecked, the American people rejected the populist celebrity for a president of some substance and experience. John D Rockefeller publicly stated his support for Taft, “I support Mr. Taft” he said, “because on comparing him personally with Mr. Bryan, his chief opponent, I find the balance of fitness and temperament entirely on [Taft’s] side.” Sound familiar?

Although Bryan lost the presidential election to Taft, earning 43 percent of the vote, he finally held a major office in 1912 when he became Woodrow Wilson’s Secretary of State. He maintained an isolationist position and felt that the US should stay out of Europe’s affairs. He simply watched while the Great War consumed the globe.

Bryan, depicted as eying the President’s Chair at a State Dinner

Historian Richard Hofstadter described Bryant like this:

“Bryant in power was like Bryan out of power: he made the same well-meant gestures, showed the same willingness under stress or to drop ideas he had once been committed to, the same inability to see things through.”

America is already noting every policy shift from his campaign rhetoric that our populist President-elect outlines.

After his failed election, Bryan restocked his depleted wealth by going on a speaking circuit. Bryan also became an outspoken anti-evolution advocate. He gained infamy as the prosecuting attorney in the 1925 Scopes Trial, where Bryan opposed the teaching of Darwin’s evolution in schools.

Bryan’s “cross of gold” speech

At the end of his career, Bryan became a real estate tycoon in Florida, contributing to Florida’s real estate boom in the 1920s.

Like I said, sometimes history rhymes.  Let’s just hope America doesn’t end up on a “Cross of Gold.”

Don’t Just March…Run!

A two-year-old friend of mine marched in Washington on Saturday. Donning her pink knit pussy hat and an endless grin, she raised her arms in the air, squinted her face and shouted, “Smash the Pat-chi-archy!” (patriarchy). (Here is a link to the video of this little marcher). I looked at this energetic, confident, happy child who sees no boundaries and vowed that by the time she’s old enough, misogyny will be gone.

January 21, 2017 — Women’s March in DC

My little friend is not old enough to remember the election or the march. But when she is old enough to remember the world, I want her to remember a world without misogyny. I don’t want her to remember a world where its normal for women to earn less than men. I don’t want her to remember a world where male aggression is excused away. I don’t want her to remember a world where sexual assault exists. I don’t want her to remember a world without a woman among our Presidents. I want her to live in a world where her only limitation is her own imagination.  I will work every day until I achieve a post-misogynist world for this little feminist and all the little girls who will grow up without the memory of January 20, 2017.

I remember January 20, 2009, when President Obama took the oath of office.  I danced around the national mall and celebrated with millions of freezing supporters. Then, we all went home and retreated back into our smartphones, satisfied that we had achieved post-racial America. Good job us.  Oh, look, The Bachelor is on!

I remember January 20, 2017 (apparently our National Day of Patriotic Devotion).  I stood among protesters while the Chief Justice swore in a man who embodies the bravado, bullying, arrogance and ignorance of misogyny.  After this inauguration I will not settle into apathy. I cannot and will not retreat back into my bubble, satisfied with a bearable level of misogyny in the world. Today, I am alert. I am awake. I am ready to fight. Five hundred years after Luther’s 95 theses, women are nailing our own proclamation to America’s front door: Misogyny in all its forms will be vanquished.

My great-great grandmother and generations of strong women cleared the path for me. I don’t remember a world where my gender barred mer from higher education. I don’t remember a world where lesbians were put in a sanitarium to be tortured and ‘cured.’ I don’t remember a world where sexual assault from supervisors was the standard price a woman paid for working. I don’t remember a world where I couldn’t vote. I don’t remember a world where I couldn’t own property. Dramatic social changes have happened before. These changes were not handed out by gracious leaders. These changes came when women stood up together, shouted out, and demanded our rights.

Women marching for social and political change in New York – 1917

In 2004, I entered the workforce grateful that generations of women had paved the way for me to live an exciting, independent, purpose-filled life.

But as I grew older, subtle and not-so-subtle forms of misogyny began to accumulate in my life and darken my sunny outlook. My less-qualified male colleagues earned significantly more than me. I brushed off touches and comments by men at the office. Yes, I felt empowered to jump up and say, “Stop that!” when a man spontaneously started massaging my shoulders at work. But why should I have to defend my personal space? Shouldn’t that be a given? Sometimes I had a good retort to demeaning comments. When a male-colleague I barely knew sat down for a meeting with me and said, “You should get some highlights in your hair and get a tan. You also wear a lot of black – you should wear some pink.” I looked at him and the table full of men wearing their green and tan uniforms and replied, “You wear a uniform to work. Why can’t I? Can we talk about nukes now?”  But sometimes I had no response. I changed what I could, but mostly I adapted to the endless misogyny around me. I could endure it. But I wont endure any longer.

Women marching for social change in DC – Jan 21, 2017

Now I’m wearing pink, a blinding amount of pink.  I joined the sea of solidarity in the streets of D.C. on Saturday, donning my suffragette sash and a sign that read, “We are the 50.8%”  We had different signs and different policy objectives, but we were singular in our statement: women are an unstoppable force.

As I joined the march, a group of women drummers marched past. Raising their arms high above their heads, they beat down on their drums in a powerful percussion. With bright pink fleece pussy caps on their head, they swayed back and forth with the music. The crowd swayed too. It felt like a celebration before the fight. (See the video here) Day one of the Trump administration felt more like the song: “One Day More” from Les Miserable. Trump’s election awoke us from our stupor and we joined together to fight.

Unstoppable Women in DC — Jan 21, 2017

Moving forward, I too commit to smash the patriarchy. I commit to no longer accept misogyny just because I can bear it. I will no longer sink into my shoulders and stare at my feet when I hear catcalls. I will no longer allow subtle sexism to pass by without comment. I will ensure strong women fill America’s elected offices.  For my young friend, the only misogyny she should ever see what she reads in her history books.

So, Donald Trump and your apologists, I officially put you on notice. Women are a force to be reckoned with. We will wear our hats, beat our drums, paint our signs and watch you like a hawk. You will feel the full force of democracy every day of your tenure. This is a fight fought by centuries of women and your message of misogyny has inspired us to finish this fight and welcome in the post-misogynist era.

Support Our Troops With Science

As I meandered through the March for Science and Earth Day celebrations around Lake Tahoe, filled with smiling children wearing recyclables and woodland creatures and booths educating the community about innovation, conservation and creative endeavors to sustain our natural resources, I wondered why conservation is polarizing in politics. Breitbart News described the March for Science as an ‘anti-trump’ rally without a clear message.  But at a small rally in the Sierra Nevada’s Today, I saw a clear message that innovation, science and cooperation keep our communities healthy and ensure our natural resources endure through the generations.

As I pondered my message today, I decided to draw on some of my lessons from Iraq with a message that I hope everyone can get behind: “Support Our Troops with Science.” Innovation in renewable energy doesn’t just clean the air and water, it saves lives, specifically, the lives of our men and women in uniform. In Iraq and Afghanistan, renewable energy on military bases could have prevented 3,046 casualties. Yes, from 2004-2009 (the height of the Iraq war), there were 3,046 Americans killed or wounded transporting fuel through Iraq and Afghanistan.  Ponder that when you consider the proposed budget cuts to research and development into renewable energies at the Department of Energy.

I made a sign for the March for Science at Lake Tahoe Today (Don’t worry, I’m running for Congress, not sign making)

I spent fifteen months in Baghdad with USAID, working side-by-side with our troops. Every base had scores of generators the size of a small house that soldiers had trucked across a hostile dessert to run our bases. Americans then trucked over 5,000 convoys of fuel per year across a dangerous warzone, at the price of around $600 per gallon. Lugging fossil fuels across the globe and trucking them into warzones costs billions of dollars and more importantly, thousands of American lives. Solar panels, wind turbines, biofuels and more make bases energy independent and soldiers stay out of unnecessary danger. For our military, renewable energy is a strategic necessity.

In 2006, I was on a large base when our tanker truck was hit and our generators were paired down to support only the essentials – communications and food. The air conditioners were shut down. AC may sound like a luxury in a warzone, but in 130 degree heat, cool air is a necessity. By the end of the second day, many of the soldiers on base were diagnosed with degrees of heat stroke, but they still went about their duties.

I was so hot and delirious, that I wandered into a walk-in refrigerator and sat on a crate of water bottles. A few minutes later, a young soldier opened the door. I smiled and tried to hand him a water bottle. But he was so startled to see a person in the fridge that he jumped, drew is weapon and I was staring down the barrel of an un-loaded M-4.

“My bad.” I said as I slowly lowered the water bottle to the floor.  The young man just stared at me.  I promptly left the fridge.

I learned an important lesson that day: never surprise someone in a war zone. But I also learned another lesson, dependence on fossil fuel ripples dangers throughout the warzone from those transporting it to those depending on it. A military base dependent on gas could be easily stranded, adding an unnecessary vulnerability. Reflecting on Operation Iraqi Freedom, General Mattis, now Secretary of Defense, insisted that the military must be “unleashed from the tether of fuel.”

Young girl proudly waves an American flag at the March for Science in Lake Tahoe Today

Making military bases, ships and planes energy independent is a top priority of our military because it would save lives, money, and be a force multiplier for America’s defenses. Our military consumes over 100 million barrels of oil per year. Depending on where that fuel is needed, the price can range from $100-$600 per gallon to reach our troops in warzones. Money spent on costly fuel could be redirected to training or upgrading military equipment like hardening Humvees so our marines could survive roadside bombs – an upgrade that didn’t come until several years into the Iraq war.

The military has been aggressively investing in sustainable, renewable and efficient energy for the last decade. The U.S. Air Force is flying jets on 50-50 biofuel blends. In January 2016, the navy launched the Great Green Fleet, a naval fleet that runs on blended biofuels and other renewable energies. The army is searching out solar panels, fuel cells, wind turbines and biofuels that can be deployed in the field making military bases and operations energy self-sufficient. The marines have purchased electric Humvees and fuel-efficient vehicles allowing them to go further in a hostile environment and safely return.

Many of the renewable energy innovations the Defense Department purchased, started with a grant from the Department of Energy – a program President Trump has proposed cutting. Many of the innovations in vehicle fuel efficiency for the new humvees came from car companies working toward the fuel efficiency standards that President Trump is now repealing. Under the banner of supporting coal and oil jobs, President Trump is actually stunting the private renewable energy industry, which means more danger for our troops.

By failing to recognize the strategic significance of renewable energy, President Trump is cutting off the military’s supply line to life-saving innovative energy technologies. Now, the burden will be entirely on the military to not just purchase and scale the best and most effective renewable energy technologies, but they will be the sole government incubator of these resources. Slowing the transition to making our military operations energy independent places our troops at risk and hinders the effectiveness of our military.

As people across America Marched for Science on Saturday, they also marched for our troops. Innovation into clean, renewable energy could protect countless American soldiers and enable them to march home. So, if someone disparages the March for Science as whining from the left, remind them that we should all stand behind science because science will save our troops.

P.S. I have a crowdfunding site for my campaign.  Join Team Jess!