When I first went into teaching the "common wisdom" I would get from all my teacher-trainers was to avoid at all costs the topics of politics and religion. I followed that advice for a while, but I soon realized it wasn't wisdom at all, but a way to cut the heart out of any real person-to-person interaction between learners.
Note that I didn't say "teacher" and "learner." Except when filling out income tax or other forms where I am asked to list my occupation, I gave up making that distinction years ago. And I should say I'm talking about teaching mature students, not young kids, I think a teacher's best occupational strategy is to "teach" something they want to "learn" so they can jump into the fray as a co-learner.
This way of going about sharing yourself with the world has its risks. I lost a friend a few years ago when suddenly, and without explanation, he started ghosting me. I made several attempts to get him to respond to my pleas for an explanation, but I kept drawing a blank. It saddens me no end, because I liked and admired the guy.
It's possible I said or did something stupid or harmful. I don't know what that might be, but the possibility remains open. Until I get an explanation - and hopefully a chance to repair, if repair is possible - I am left to speculate.
This erstwhile friend - I'll call him Wolfgang - has an intense dislike for politicians. For him there's no good politician but a dead politician. In contrast, I have a whole bunch of politicians I admire. I could go way back, but let me start, arbitrarily, with Harvey Milk. I think what he accomplished for LGBT people has been generally recognized, and when my husband and I got married at San Francisco City Hall the happy occasion became a thrilling occasion when I learned that the woman who was marrying us was the daughter of the woman who swore Harvey Milk in when he became San Francisco Supervisor. And - there's more! - we got married right next to a bust of Harvey Milk in the space at the top of the stairs overlooking the Rotunda.
A second gay politician who had my highest admiration was Barney Frank, chiefly but by no means only because of his work on demolishing the closet that LGBT people lived in. Today, these two gay men I tend to view in heroic terms are slipping into history, but we have an up-and-comer in Pete Buttigieg, who matches his gay predecessors in smarts and articulateness. Frank slipped up and got tangled in a couple of scandals, but he more than made up for it, in my view, by the work he accomplished over the years since.
I got into a discussion the other day about the surprising number of democratic politicians I find it easy to say good things about, starting, of course, with Pete Buttigieg: Elizabeth Warren, Bernie Sanders, Beto O'Rourke, Joaquin Castro and his one-minute older brother Julian, Katie Porter, Amy Klobuchar, my own California representatives Barbara Lee and Barbara Boxer, and the representative from the neighboring (14th) congressional district, Eric Swalwell, and many many more, right up to Tim Walz and Kamala Harris. The Harris/Walz ticket has brought me, like so many others, out of the political doldrums and given me reason to shed the fear that Americans were almost certain to cast into the toilet this marvelous project we've got going to build a democracy.
Today I found another one - a democratic politician to admire - and another Texan to boot. This guy's name is James Talarico. My friend Bill just phoned to put me on to him. If you know Bill and me and our atheist history, this may come as a surprise.
Talarico grew up just north of Austin in a religious (Presbyterian) home. For years I was so anti-organized religion that I wouldn't have given him a moment's thought. But I've traveled the long path to reconciliation with people whose faith strikes me as sincere and indicative of a search for meaning - not to say truth and justice - rather than political power and tribal identity. Talarico decided at some point that it was better, to use his words, to devote his energies to eliminating the need for charity rather than to Christian charity itself. He became a Texas state representative in one district, until the Republicans gerrymandered him out and he then went to another. Obviously a smart guy, he's the youngest member of the Texas State Legislature. He seems to be getting his stride in both politics and religion by exposing the true nature of America's Christian Nationalism movement, which he equates with the older term: christo-fascism.
Give him a listen. You won't be sorry. Here he is giving a sermon on his views in a Baptist Church. And here he is talking about his path to both religion and politics in a TV interview.
No comments:
Post a Comment