I hear a lot about how hard it is to be a Democrat these days, and sometimes I give in and have to agree. They go off on tangents and baffle us with their cluelessness. They too often take the safe road when tough-minded courage is what’s needed. And Schumer, let’s face it, will always be Schumer.
You know, dear readers, that I’m a lifelong Democrat, and my life has been longer than most. It’s been a political life of ups and downs, of celebrating the good times and enduring the bad, of being both proud of and embarrassed by our actions, of watching us fail when we should have won, of stubbornly defending my party because for all its faults it has always been better than that other one.
This year is no exception. In fact, this year may be the year that tests us the most. I don’t have to tell you that that squatter in the White House is clearly deranged and only getting worse. You’ve heard, I’m sure, that Congress, the branch that is supposed to be checking and balancing, is unbalanced and has, for all intents, checked out. The courts are no better. We’re shocked at how lawless they’ve become in order to support the one person responsible for upending our politics, our Constitution, and our very lives.
And then there’s the mainstream media, now almost wholly owned by people whose retention of their obscene wealth depends on constant duping, lest we might wake up and rise up and end what has become that thing FDR and others tried to avoid and would be bad for us—a billionaire class working toward oligarchy.
So the fix is in and we’re in a fix and for all our gnashing and howling it only seems to get worse. But that’s not why I’m here today. Today I want to tell you about what happened yesterday.
Yesterday, again, I went to where the Democrats were and I found joy. I smiled a lot and talked to people who smiled a lot. We noshed on fruit kabobs and Bundt cake and charcuterie, and nobody seemed sad or defeated. We were there to meet a candidate, but the venue was small enough to feel cozy. Like a real community.
The Democratic organization in the county were I now live is active and friendly, always thinking of new ways to draw us together and make us feel useful. I haven’t gotten fully involved yet, to the point where I’m committing to time, but I’ve joined and I found out about this particular event through their newsletter.
My choice for Michigan governor, Jocelyn Benson, was coming to town and if I signed up I might just get to see her. The location was a storefront and not an auditorium so there were only so many spaces. (I don’t know why, that’s just the way it was.) They would send me more info if there was room, and yay! There was! I was in.
And the minute I walked in the door I knew I was in. Friendly faces moving in to welcome me, to get me tagged up, to hand me bumper stickers and buttons, and to help me find a seat. I’ve felt this way before about these people, and I’ve written about them here and here and here.
They were here at the Pride rally, and again I’ve never felt so welcome.
I lived for 30 years on a remote island that was largely Republican. Trumpers at the end. It’s an island of only 1000 full-time residents, so the likelihood of a band of Democrats getting together to rally were slim to none.
So far, since living here in Petoskey, I’ve been to five events where I was surrounded by people I know have been involved with and have voted for Democrats. Just like me. I’m constantly surprised by the energy, considering this is a town and a county that went overwhelmingly for Trump. They’re so into Republicans I was shocked to find on the first ballot I filled in after I moved here that only the clerk’s office, none of the others—not a single one—had a Democratic candidate. That side was disturbingly empty. All white space. Yet now I find this dynamic group of Democrats and I marvel at their resilience, considering the obstacles.
But we were here to meet Jocelyn Benson, and there she was. As if she read the room, the joy in the air, she talked about the positive things she has already done. Like eliminating long lines at the S of S offices by making it easier to register our vehicles and get our licenses online and at innovative kiosks in grocery stores. And more importantly, securing new voting rights for all eligible Michiganders prior to the 2020 election, including the right to vote absentee. She oversaw more than 250 audits after the election, all of which proved to be accurate.
And then in her speech she built a case for affordability, housing, health care, childcare, energy, education, and the environment. Nowhere did she gloom the mood by mentioning the other side. Not a single mention of Trump or the regime he represents. No mention at all of a single Republican. That’s not why she was there. She came to tell us what she would do, why we should keep on working to better our state and our country, and how we could help her do it if she should win the governorship.
She has not been free from attacks during her tenure as S of S. In 2020, when she refused to pretend Trump won the presidential vote, protesters swarmed her home and threatened her, some reportedly armed. More recently she was ‘swatted’, where someone called in a phony ‘dangerous situation’ and the police arrived at her door. She has a small child. This would scare anyone. But she appears fearless. And positive. Hate and sorrow never entered that room. Not a single hint of doubt or defeat. She exudes joy.
And that is why I’m energized today and I’m ready to keep on going. This is what we need—these positive experiences among the people we’re fighting with and for. This sense of community as we take on the battle of our lifetimes, knowing it’s still crazily uphill considering who and what we’re dealing with. It’s enough to frustrate anyone. I know, because I seem to spend a lot of time trying to convince people we’re not screwed and this isn’t the end of us. That all is not lost.
I recommend doing what I did yesterday. Go out and find your people. Meet them face to face if you can. Remind yourselves that the common good is worth fighting for, that our country is worth fighting for, and that we are the good people fighting the good fight.
This is a fight we must win, and lucky us—we get to do it together.
Constant Commoner revolves around my thoughts as a woman who has aged and grown and learned by a process that feels miraculous considering I have no formal education or unique abilities. We the people are all commoners. We believe based on our own past and our own feelings. We choose a path we can live with and if we’re lucky we get to share our lives with people who care, who understand.
That’s what I aim to do here. I want to build a community where anyone can come and sit on our porch and grow along with the rest of us. (To find out more, please read my “About” page. It’s all in there.)
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You are such an inspiration, Mona. I'd bet somebody, somewhere, wrote about the cool lady with the great hair and the "Big Fan of Human Rights" t-shirt.
Hi Ramona, I would have been very energized meeting Jocelyn Benson as well. States - and maybe the country - need more women like her running for high office and more people like you spreading the word!!!!!