Pride

Election fever has erupted at the Johnson household. Jared came home from work with multiple maps of the country printed out, each state listed with its number of electoral votes, and a few states already colored in to reflect predicted Obama or McCain victories. I overhear questions to my husband from our four-year-old son concerning who we want to win. Jared, not wishing to prematurely bias his son, replies, "The better man." When questioned as to who the better man is, he deftly responds, "The people will vote and we will know." While presently performing his parental duty of bathing Russell and Elliot, the radio is broadcasting election results as the polls on the east coast close. Meanwhile, Thomas has acquired a red and blue crayon and under his father's careful tutelage is meticulously coloring in the states won by the respective candidates. I am a bit confused, however. I was not aware that there were orange and purple states.

A year ago when, much to my delight, I discovered two Jim Beam decanters at a thrift store, one of an elephant and one of a donkey respresenting our two primary political parties, I vowed we would host an election night party. (The two, powder blue Avon soaps of yesteryear, embossed with the visages of George and Martha Washington, likewise found at a thrift shop, ensured the likehood of such a party occurring.) But alas, my intentions did not materialize this year, perhaps because I was unwilling to risk the vehemence that arises between friends and family - or between myself and my husband - over political issues. So this evening, Jared, Thomas, and I have determined to party, not with our friend Mr. Beam, but with fluffy, gooey, marshmallows, roasted expertly by Jared, in our backyard fire pit. (There are no s'mores because I already consumed all the chocolate in Thomas' Halloween basket - bad mom.)

It was questionable whether I was going to exercise my right to vote in this election. Not nearly as interested in politics as my dear husband, I am easily disgusted by the gross amounts of money exhausted, as well as the acrimonious free speech that transpires during a presidential campaign. Moreover, I was tired of accepting the rationale that it was better to vote for "the lesser of two evils" than to not vote at all. Thus, I determined that I was going to sit this election out.

I am unsure what caused a conversion of my mind, but a few weeks ago, after reading from a work by the trappist monk Fr. Louis, known to the world as Thomas Merton, I began to seriously rethink whether withholding my vote was indeed a valid position for me. Honestly, my memory is hazy of Merton's exact words. It was clear to me, however, that every Christian must be responsible for confronting injustice wherever it manifested itself and that this war against injustice could indeed be waged within the political realm. Needless to say, early this morning, I placed a phone call to my mother and asked if she could help me with the children so I could cast my vote.

A little after noon, while Russell and Elliot sat under guard in the van with my mother, Thomas, who also wanted to vote, and who I must also mention was convinced that a Clone Trooper helmet was the most appropriate attire for voting, accompanied me into the polling place. I received my ballot, pulled out a receipt of my most recent farmer's market meat purchases to serve as Thomas' ballot, and we both sat down. When I completed my ballot and informed my young padawan that it was time to rescue Grandma, he announced that he needed a few more minutes to finish his voting. We left Trinity Lutheran Church, hand in hand, both wearing our "I voted" sticker. (I later found a tiny remnant of Thomas' in Russell's mouth.)

The five of us promptly drove to Starbucks and received our free cup of coffee since we had voted. Unfortunately, the experience was not nearly as pleasurable as I had hoped - Starbucks does not offer high chairs. There is nothing quite like attempting to enjoy a cup of hot coffee while simultaneously feeding oatmeal (yes, Starbucks now offers oatmeal) to two fidgety children who would rather be walking (yes, they are walking).

By the time this is posted, I am confident that the outcome of the 2008 presidential election will be decided (thank God). And though I will probably remain pretty detached from the political sphere and continue to be convinced that there is no government that can truly eradicate the sufferings of all people, my attitude of apathy is beginning to change as I consider the magnitude of this election. Historically speaking, the fact that I am likely witnessing the election of the first person of color to the highest office in the United States of America, and that an African-American woman from the southside of my former hometown could become our image of a first lady, I am speechless. And when I see the faces of men and women, who directly or indirectly suffered discrimination solely because of the color of their skin, so full of hope, I am a bit weepy and extremely proud to be witnessing this truly extraordinary event.

The children are bathed. Russell and Elliot are asleep. The fire is kindling and there is at least one marshmallow with my name on it. And oh yes, Jared has plugged in the radio outside. Time to party with the boys!

Beth
November 4, 2008

P.S. I couldn't resist adding some trick-or-treat pictures. Though having some minor difficulties standing up (picture the younger brother in A Christmas Story), Russell eventually was able to enjoy his dragon costume. Elliot was a monkey (of course). And Thomas, as you might have guessed, was indeed a Jedi knight - Anakin Skywalker, to be precise. Our night was even more memorable because my sister and brother-in-law, whom we had not seen since their move to Maine a year ago, were able to be with us.