First- I skipped my meds today (tehehehe) and have not only been able to stay bright eyed and bushy tailed all day long, but I was able to write most of an essay. Hip hip hurrah for clear thinking and snarkitude.

So this post at Feministe (which I’ll link once their site is working again) reminded me of a story I haven’t told in a while. I thought I’d share it now.

I am a political science major, but I have absolutely no interest in working as or for a politician- ever. I’m more of a theorist and a writer anyway, but there once was a time where I entertained working for a political campaign or party in some way. So I joined the Young Democrats. After attending meetings faithfully for awhile, I ran for vice president and won.

The chapter that I belonged to was in the deep south in a county known for creating some of our most hideous Republican politicians (Newt Gingrich’s home office was next door to the Kid’s preschool and Bob Barr was in his Clinton hating heyday at the time). Being a Democrat was not an easy thing, being a Democratic single mom was the next best thing to being Satan. But that didn’t stop me. I had bumperstickers on my car that proudly proclaimed my voting habits and regularly got harassed at gas stations and stop lights by conservative nutbags. I could take take it though. I’ve never had a problem arguing with the opposition.

I was the only girl in the leadership of our chapter, it was just four boys and me running our little show. But it was cool, right. I mean, they’re Dems after all. So when my first official task after being elected was to decorate for the annual holiday party, I didn’t think too much about it. When it became clear that all I was going to get to do was organize who would be bringing drinks and snacks and doing the decoration, set up and clean up of all of our events. I got a little huffy.

There were some good moments. We did a voter registration drive where I hiked miles through low income neighborhoods and signed up many new voters. I got a free ticket to the annual Jefferson Jackson dinner (a $500 a plate fundraising event) where Al Gore was the speaker. I ate bad chicken and drank cheap wine and met a bunch of politicians. I discovered dirty martinis.

Then we held a meet and great at a local university for a guy who was running for state senate. During the course of his speech he announced that his platform would include a law that would make committing a crime against a woman carry a punishment double the ordinary, because “women are natural victims, like children”.

I was supposed to be nice. I was not supposed to ask questions of the candidate during the open question part. But there was no way in hell I was going to let him get away with categorizing women as “natural victims”. So I raised my hand, and when called on I asked him if he realized that he just insulted half his audience.

The other Young Democrats started loudly hushing me, though the candidate was generally interested in my opinions. Eventually the chapter President interrupted to say “Elizabeth, I think we’ve heard enough from you”. I sat back down and steamed in my seat.

After it was over, the candidate came up to me to apologize. His campaign was new and it was an idea he was just trying out. He seemed earnest in his desire to actually help women. So I talked to him for a bit. I told him that if he really wanted to help women, he would make it easier to punish people who commit crimes against them, like rapists and wife beaters.

At that point, some of the old money wives of the grown up Democratic party organization joined us. They were just what you imagine, big hair, sparkly jewelry, brightly colored silk blouses and enough makeup to spackle a bathroom. One of them, in the best southern drawl I have ever heard, put her hand on the candidates shoulder and said “Honey, I don’t think you eveh wanna meet any one of us in a dark alley, victims we are not”. Then she introduced herself to me and said “Thank you for bringing that up”.

I left that night and did not return to the Young Democrats. What I realized is that even though they were supposed to be the party of equality, beliefs had not yet caught up to practices. Those fabulous jeweled wives had power in their own way, but they would never get a chance to drive the machine, and I would be forever relegated to event decoration if I stayed.

I am still a Democrat, old habits die hard maybe. Or maybe it’s that I believe we can pull the party back to it’s progressive ideas and put those ideas into real practice. We are still the only party in the country to have ever passed progressive legislation. The Green Party may seem like a more progressive party, but Democrats have actually gotten elected and that counts for a lot. I may volunteer for a campaign (or two or three) in the future and I may even volunteer my time to do phone banking and voter registration drives, but I will not work as a pink cog in the political machine. I have had my fill of the political flavor of women’s work.