My little boat

There is this trite saying about the difficulties of life: “O Lord, help me, for the sea is so big and my boat is so small.” I feel much the same when considering an issue like health care reform. What I cannot decide, as I think about myself adrift on that great big sea, is whether I’d be praying to Max Baucus, Barack Obama, Keith Olbermann or myself. Here is what I do know, however: Being “adrift” is a matter of choice.

The scope of this issue, both in terms of policy and politics, is only one of many crazy-making aspects of health care reform. If I want to drive myself into a frothing, impotent rage, I can consider the role of the media, the obstructionism of both Republicans and Blue Dog Democrats, the mistakes I perceive the White House making, Max Baucus kissing Chuck Grassley’s ass, Ron Wyden so intent on his own bill he does not use his considerable moral authority to assist the President, the gullibility of the public as they swallow lies about “death panels” and such, the ease with which everyone forgets the real issue of 50 million Americans without health care, and I could go on but in a moment I will lose the ability to type, think or even sit upright without staring into space, drooling on myself as I go catatonic in the face of the challenge of what to do.

This challenge — What can I do? — is the one facing progressives, not just with health care reform but on every issue that we care about. For me this includes the National Guard in Iraq (my son is currently deployed), the environment (talk about huge scopes), net neutrality, election reform, campaign finance reform, reform of our corporate non-capitalist economic system, ending militarism as the world’s leading business, the Columbia River Crossing and, again, here I stop because who has time in one lifetime to even begin to scrape the surface of even a few of these? Especially when, as is my case and the case of most progressives, so much of our day is spent with a job, family responsibilities, sleep and so on.

In my few spare hours, can I really change and perhaps save the world?

The answer: I can at least try.

I understand, deep in my gut, that the challenge is huge. That stupid scene in that awful movie “Apocalypse”, where Tea Leoni stands on the beach and is whomped by the tidal wave? I imagine her trying to hold back the wave with, say, a garbage can lid. Not gonna happen. I feel about as effective when I try to do anything: write a letter, blog, call Wyden’s office, canvass, wear my “We Can Do Better” t-shirt.

Me? Change the world? Meh. At least I can try.

I have two reasons for trying, and for trying again and again, not giving up but keeping on despite whatever stupidity I hear reported from DC. One, I am not alone. On Saturday, I canvassed for Organizing for America and Health Care for America Now! I spoke to 19 people, got 11 to sign a pledge of support, had a number of productive conversations, and possibly got several people to think more about this and consider doing something themselves. Did my 19 conversations change the world? Will it shift the dynamics of the politics at play? Will either Kent Conrad or Max Baucus give a damn?

Consider this: I spoke to 19 people, a pretty good result from a list of 45 doors. Across Oregon on Saturday morning, over 200 people were doing the same thing at 6 regional canvasses. If each person, on average, had 10 productive conversations, that’s over 2,000 people who, at the very least, signed the pledge of support. If 10% of those phone Senators Wyden or Merkley, that’s a bunch of phone calls their staffs will be logging this morning. And if that same process is repeated across the country, a small number of volunteers each speaking to a handful of ordinary citizens and enlisting even the modest support of a signature in favor of the President’s 3 core principles, that’s tens of thousands of names in support of real health care reform.

Now repeat that, day by day, for weeks, a growing movement (Organizing for America has only gotten off the ground in the past few months; in Oregon, Treasure Mackley, the State Director, has been on the job for little over a month) bringing together the names and voices of thousands of Americans who support the President’s stated goals for reform. By the time Congress reconvenes in September, OFA will have hundreds of signed pledges to deliver to every Member of Congress. Yes, the health care industry will have their donations and lobbyists, but not many in Congress can afford to ignore a large, organized body of constituents.

Organized, active citizens focused on a cause or issue still matter in this country. It was how Dr Howard Dean’s campaign transformed electoral politics in 2003, and it was how we got Barack Obama elected President last year. Both happened outside the box, outside the Beltway; the political pros, including most of the media, are still confounded by what happened. An active, progressive movement of grassroots citizens (ie, “normal” Americans) is not part of their vocabulary. It is going on right now but is invisible to them because they look only at what they expect to see: all the crap that happens within the Beltway and on the cable news noisemakers.

But I was there, and I know it’s real. Will we change the nature and direction of this process through out grassroots activity? This then is the second reason I keep trying despite the disadvantage I have of being but one person in a world of 7 billion: If I do not at least try, I will lose hope. I will have no choice but to retreat from the world and hide behind a wall of fantasy and selfish indulgences. I will become half-human, and I will hate myself.

I am not going to convince Max Baucus to do the right thing; I have no clout with him. I cannot remind him that the American people elected Obama and a huge Democratic majority last year for a damn reason; he’s too busy sucking Grassley’s dick to pay any attention to a citizen like me. I know I’m not going to get an appointment with the President or 15 minutes on primetime tv or any other opportunity to tell the country “Here is what you must do!” All I can do is wear my t-shirts, write my blog, attend the rallies, canvass, and whatever other chances to act come my way in the next two or three months as a bill is prepared for the President’s desk. These are relatively tiny acts, but for me, they are huge.

They will save my soul and preserve my sanity.

I do what I can not because I have the power to change the entire course of a debate or policy program; I do what I can because I have to do something. And, in the end, I am not alone. It’s not me and my little boat alone on the sea. I am part of a massive and growing fleet of individual boats. We each push off from shore and find ourselves in the company of fellow citizens seeking the destination. We lash our little boats together, and we become strong. Unsinkable. The storm strikes, and we survive together. Is that a corny allegory? Maybe, but it’s also true.

Health care reform is a massive battle. If individuals decide it’s too big and they can do nothing (because “they” have all the power and will do what “they” want anyway), then defeat is automatic. But I have decided I am not giving up, no matter what. Whatever they do with the health care bills, I am not giving up. I will keep going because my choice is this simple: Give up, or keep trying.

When I keep trying, I am victorious, not because we will win a particular battle but because I refuse to admit defeat. What we seek as progressives is not a particular piece of legislation or a particular candidate but a process: the active, informed involvement of ordinary American citizens. By refusing to capitulate, no matter the odds, I add another small victory to the progressive cause.