Yesterday I had the most amazing conversation with my mother, a life-long Republican who once had a signed photo of George and Laura Bush prominently displayed in her home. What she said to me absolutely blew my mind and made me wonder whether all the worries about white working class voters not getting behind Obama may be a bit exaggerated.
More after the jump...
Mom and I have lunch every other Wednesday, and with my 50th birthday looming in the next couple of weeks, the topic of conversation turned to plans for the (sigh) festivities. Like she does every year, Mom asked me what I wanted for my birthday.
"World peace," I replied with a grin. It's my stock response to questions like that; I'm never comfortable asking for something in particular and, quite frankly, I'd be happy with no gift at all. When she insists, I usually opt for something that requires us to go shopping together and then find reasons not to go. Drives my mother crazy.
But Mom wasn't having it this year.
"Oh, honey, you say that every year. You know you're not going to get it, so what do you really want for your birthday?"
Now, we don't talk much about politics in my family. I'm the only Democrat, and we've learned, for the sake of family harmony, that it's a bad idea to talk about anything political. Most of my family suffers from an addiction to Fox News, and our local newspaper is nothing more than a mouthpiece for the Bush misadministration, so it's fair to say that my mom and stepfather (not to mention my siblings and their spouses) fall into the category of "low information voter."
So I don't know what possessed me, but I said, a bit apprehensively, "I want you to vote for Barack Obama in November," and took a bite of my sandwich.
"Oh, I intend to," she replied. I nearly choked.
"Really?" I asked, after I caught my breath.
"Yes, really. I love Obama. He is exactly what this country needs. We can't stand any more of this crap. Things have got to change, or this country is doomed. Obama's the man to do it."
"But what about McCain?"
"He's just like George Bush, the little creep. I'm tired of being lied to. I'm tired of the war. I'm tired of people being tortured in my name. I'm tired of the government poking its nose into people's private lives."
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I'm talking about. Abortion rights. Gay marriage. Things that are nobody else's business except for the people involved. And then there's the spying thing you told me about."
From time to time, I give my mom real information, usually when it's just the two of us. When I explained Bush's position on sex education to her, she was absolutely appalled, calling it "the stupidest damn thing I've ever heard of." A woman who came of age before reliable birth control, she had three kids in three years and has been a stanch supporter of a woman's right to choose for as long as I can remember. Mom's a devout Christian, but cannot understand why people get so riled up about same sex couples wanting legal recognition for their unions. And she was simply outraged to learn that Bush thinks that it's OK to spy on Americans and that he can just ignore any law he doesn't like.
She went on to tell me how worried she is about health care. Dad has some serious health issues, and she's concerned that her coverage as a retired autoworker may be in jeopardy. They've already experienced some decreases in coverage; I'm a bit sketchy on details since Mom doesn't readily share that kind of information, but it seems clear that their out-of-pocket expenses have risen. And she's still furious about me getting stuck with massive medical bills that my crappy health insurance wouldn't cover after giving the go-ahead for the procedures, bills that are forcing me to consider filing bankruptcy.
Why do I consider this conversation so significant? Aside from the fact that it shows my mother has gotten at least a bit of a clue, it demonstrates the pitfalls of hasty generalizations. Mom is from a family that was dirt poor and terribly racist. Her father was a notorious bigot who took great pleasure in naming the family dog "N*****" so that he could stand in the front yard in their mostly African American neighborhood and call out, "Here, N*****." I mentioned above that she went to work at age 14, and she did backbreaking factory work until the physical toll was too great and she had to retire for medical reasons. She is the epitome of a white working class voter from a racist background, you know, those people who supposedly won't vote for the black man. And she is willing, nay, eager, to vote for Obama.
"But what about his race, Mom? A lot of people are really worried about that. Some people even think he's a secret Muslim."
"Oh, honey, that's a bunch of crap. I learned a long time ago that it's not the color of your skin, but what's in your heart that counts. Obama has a good heart. I can't say that about Bush or McCain. And I couldn't care less about his religion. It's the same God, after all."
I was floored. I know that Mom has slowly been moving more toward the center and that she's made a serious effort over the years to overcome her racist upbringing, but this was a momentous occasion. Perhaps she hasn't totally rejected all things right-wing, but her political perspective is definitely changing.
Then she confided to me that she now turns off her hearing aid when Dad switches to the Fox News channel. "I can't stand to listen to that bullshit any more," she said as she grappled with me for the check.
"But don't tell your dad. Or your sister. Now let's not talk about politics any more. What do you want for your birthday?"
Mom, I couldn't ask for anything better than what you just gave me. Happy birthday to me.