This is a belated but heartfelt thank you note, about something my attention returned to this holiday.
Thank you so much for your support for my primary-election campaign in Nancy Pelosi’s House district last spring! Though I am sending this to a number of people, it is not so many that I am unaware of the particular way in which you helped me, and it meant a lot (and still does ❤️). Some of you — you know who you are by your slight puzzlement at being on this list — supported me indirectly, probably unknowingly, and maybe without sharing my political perspective, but I am still grateful.
My Attitude Towards Tilting at Windmills
Joanna Macy has written:
There is a certain equanimity and moral economy that comes when you are not constantly computing your chance of success. The enterprise is so vast, there is no way to judge the effects of this or that individual effort—or the extent to which it makes any difference at all. Once we acknowledge this, we can enjoy the challenge and the adventure.
I’ve heard her elaborate on this by pointing out something like this: you can attend the Women’s March with your daughter and think you are just two more bodies among tens of thousands, but you don’t know the impact on your daughter, or what she will do or say 20 years later as a result, or the ripple effects of her actions then on others.
If I hadn’t have been graced with finally embodying a little bit of Joanna’s/Castenada’s/the Bhagavad Gita’s/etc. philosophy of showing up to do what one is guided to do and detach from the outcome, I could not have entered the race. Not as someone who has never held elective office, had no name recognition or serious funding or pre-committed group of supporters, and could only start months after the other candidates.
But What Was the Outcome?
There were ultimately seven people in the race: Nancy Pelosi, a Republican, three Democrats believing SF needed a more progressive voice in Congress, and a Green Party member. And me, with the message expressed, in abbreviated form, on this sign:
By conventional standards, the outcome of my effort was abysmal. I came in last in this top-two primary, with 1.36% of the vote. Like all of the other candidates, I received no attention from the media, even when I sued the Secretary of State to be listed on the ballot as “lawyer/author/revolutionary.” There was only one small candidate forum.
I did not expect to be among the top two, though I did hold a faint hope that I could via this scenario: the three Democrats would split enough of the not-Nancy vote to put me ahead of them, with more votes than the part of the electorate who believed voting Green will bring change. Making it to the November ballot might, I thought, significantly increase my ability to get the message out and recruit others to the longer-term project.
I also reached out to the other progressive candidates, in the hope that we could take joint steps to avoid what ultimately happened—putting the Republican (with her 9% of the vote) on the November ballot, though 22.5% of voters wanted someone more progressive than Ms. Pelosi.
But I’m not buying into conventional standards. We handed out 2500 brochures and posted 230 signs, and my statement was in a ballot pamphlet that went out to 481,991 registered voters. I made a few interesting connections. I agree with Joanna that there is no way to judge the impact of these things.
And the effort changed me, from an introvert who lets my shyness get in the way of effectively putting out whatever I may have to offer, into . . . still an introvert, but one who has largely broken the pattern of acting like one, at least, in the political realm. And also into a person who is less wiiling to be inhibited by fears that people will think I am crazy. Finally, I made the surprising discovery that I knew that, if somehow I became a congressperson, I could handle the duties of the office; set up a structure for people to keep me grounded, connected, and accountable after moving into a setting where co-opting, confusing, and corrupting good people is the norm; and find inspiration and help for the project of using the office to help build a different kind of movement.
Moreover, that 1.36% of the vote is actually huge. It means one in every 74 voters signed on to the completely deviant message that electoral politics—though often useful, and sometimes urgently necessary (like in the Trump era)—cannot bring us an equitable, peaceful, sustainable, and caring society, and that seriously moving beyond both electoral politics and the politics of protest can do so. One in 74! And those were among the subgroup that bothers to register to vote and participates in off-year primaries. How cool is that?! And what does it mean for our chances of building something truly transformational?
Finally, if you have reservations about a campaign naming Nancy Pelosi as emblematic of what is wrong with the what I call Corporate-Party-Lite (vs. Corporate-Party-Supersize-Me), check out a few minutes (or a few inches of the transcript) of this podcast from investigative reporter Jeremy Scahill, a week after this month’s election, starting from 1:55 in. (Sample: “She took impeachment off the table for Bush, just as she’s doing for Trump.”)
What’s next?
Since June my time has been taken up by my day job and some unwinding, but I am entering a period where I can resume political work. Clear priorities are a series of blog posts on the current situation — which I think represents a real danger of fascism — and how to get beyond it; turning those essays into a small non-fiction book; and resuming, with a comrade, a project to create and test a replicable model for study/action groups about what is likely to actually bring us the political/social/spiritual transformation we long for. And maybe following up on suggestions that come my way occasionally on trying to get the first book made into a movie.
In any event, I am grateful that this campaign was part of my journey. And I am truly grateful for your help and support.
All my best this season, with its challenges and its reminders to find joy and gratitude and love where we can,
Michael
