Guest AuthorGet out and vote.
Who am I to suggest such a thing? The other day someone described me as a lobbyist. I’m not.
Lobbyists form close relationships with lawmakers and encourage them to vote in ways that would benefit their clients. I recognize a lobbyist’s value, but would never consider myself one of them. First of all, I am no fan of politicians and have no desire to form distant relationships with them, much less close ones.
Doesn’t matter if they are right or left, liberal or conservative. You’ll never find a picture of me posing with one or ever catch me clamoring to speak to one.
Not in Tampa. Not in Tallahassee. Not in DC.
Not ever.
My interests lie elsewhere. I work with and for the people who hire lawmakers. (Psst, that’s you.) In a host of different campaigns and causes, every single one being near and dear to me, I have organized people — regular people — for political purposes. They call my kind “political organizers.”
Clever, I know.
I am paid to empower certain groups of people, people intimidated by the process in general or by lawmakers in particular, and by the time I’m done, they’re fired up enough to refuse to be intimidated.
Politicians work for YOU. They work for US. Not the other way around.
I don’t say that politicians are awful in some apathetic manner because I’m too lazy to get out and participate in the process. I say it with anger, outrage, and frustration. I say it because I can back it up with years of experience and dozens of examples.
It keeps getting worse.
The lawmakers we have are most certainly the lawmakers we deserve. Candidates aren’t rewarded for thoughtful discourse, wisdom, or stellar communication skills — so why should they try? Oftentimes, the best and the brightest are punished for nuanced views and find it impossible to raise the money needed for a successful campaign.
When was the last time you heard a Republican support women’s rights or a Democrat discuss the benefits of school choice? Can you even remember the last time a politician looked at you, really looked at you, and told the truth? Blame the media, but they’re only giving us what we want, what we pay for, what we tune in to watch, and what we click with our mouse.
When hopeful, bright young minds watch others get butchered by reporters or bloggers for personal troubles, they take a pass on public service. They’ll do good work for people, but only for those around their dinner table — not yours.
And who can blame them?
So you see the ones we’re left with, which is why I gave up any affinity I had with politicians a long time ago. I can no longer be disappointed in them, because I don’t expect much in the first place.
But the people? Regular folks? Men and women who don’t have time to go to fundraisers in swanky restaurants because they’re working three jobs and trying to raise five kids? Those are the people who matter to me. They’re where my hope for change lies, and my affinity. (Pssst, that’s you.)
It won’t start at the top. It will start in the middle, with “we the people.” It always has. We are the only ones who can directly alter the news that gets covered, the stories that get attention, and the laws that get passed. We can encourage our friends and families, far and wide, to be more aware and on alert. We can shake it up, and small steps are OK. As long as they lead in the right direction.
Since we are the problem, we are the solution as well.
So yeah, join a movement. Start a campaign. Refuse to behave or stay quiet. And sometime before the end of the day today, get out and vote.
Catherine Durkin Robinson is a political advocate and organizer, living in Tampa. Column courtesy of Context Florida.
