When in the course of human events

This is a story of bloodlines, of inevitability, and of atoning for the sins of my many-greats-grandfather.

My great aunt joined the Daughters of the American Revolution when I was a kid. She did the genealogical research to prove that she was, in fact, directly descended from an "individual who aided in achieving American independence." She discovered that we came not only from Revolutionary stock, but that we had a Signer of the Declaration of Independence in the family. William Whipple, one of the itty bitty names on that grand document was my many, many greats grandfather.

It was sort of a big deal in my family, a big enough deal that we discussed it. When my brother and dad went to the National Archives, they made sure to find his name. I bragged about it in eighth grade civics class. Occasionally I'd remember William Whipple and wonder about him. Who was he? Why was he chosen to be the representative from New Hampshire? And, most of all, did he realize what he was doing when he wrote his name down on that sheet of parchment? Did he know the significance of it? Presumably he must have, but his is not a flourish like Hancock's. It's sandwiched between two much more famous signatures: Josiah Bartlett (yes, of West Wing fame) and Sam Adams (of beer fame). Whipple signed in the far right column and didn't even bother to sign his full name, he abbreviated William to Wm. Granted, that was common back then, but still! This is the most important signature Mr. Whipple would ever sign in his entire life! It can't be that much more effort to add the extra letters.

I looked him up on Wikipedia, from time to time, and every time I was in awe of his accomplishments. Not only was he a Signer, he was a Ship's Master by age 23. Life moved faster in those days, but I'll be lucky if I'm employed by age 23. And he was a Ship's Master. That's kind of like being a combination manager/pirate. He apparently married his first cousin, but hey, that wasn't so uncommon back then, right?

Although I never really researched who he was, I felt a sort of connection to Whipple. Here, in my family's history, was someone who was instrumental in the founding of this country I love so much. He wasn't that important, not a Jefferson or Washington or even a Caesar Rodney, but he was there. He saw them work. He may have debated a bit with Jefferson over the exact wording of something. He was there.

When I went to New Hampshire this autumn, I thought more about Whipple than I had in a very long time. After all, I was going to work on a political campaign in his old stomping grounds. In my somewhat sleep-deprived and over-tired state, I could imagine was fulfilling some sort of romantic ideal or obligation to my bloodline.

Hey, I decided one day, I should find out if Grandpa Whipple is buried around here. After all, I was in New Hampshire, if he was near, I should take the opportunity to find out a little more about him.

I looked him up on a website called findagrave.com. You can type in the name of the somewhat famous person whose grave you seek, and the website will tell you where that grave is located, as well as give you a concise biography. I found out Great-Grandpa William is buried in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. But then I also saw this:

"...he went to sea in his teens, and by the time he was 21, he was Captain of his own ship. Whipple would sail to many ports in Europe, Africa, and the West Indies, making a good living transporting slaves, sugar and rum in what became known as the Triangle Trade."

And there it was.

My several times great-grandfather was a slave trader.

He had written his name down on a piece of paper that professed the greatest ideals of the individual rights of man and freedom from oppression the New World had ever seen. He signed it! HE held these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal!

America has long had to deal with this history of slavery. As a nation, we have tried to come to terms with the fact that many white Americans had enslaved, mistreated, and murdered black Americans on a very large scale. It almost tore our nation to shreds. It lead to a terrible war with unbelievable casualties on both sides. As a people, we have had to face the reality of that past. And we have had to consider our national heroes as flawed, as men who participated in this horror. They owned slaves-- they professed to have hold of the body, mind, and soul of another human being. In some cases, dozens of human beings.

Knowing that, understanding that, even studying that I had never faced that dilemma on an individual level. Even though some branches of my family have been in this country for a while, we've always been Northerners. And we moved West. As far as I knew, we had never been intensely involved in the issue of slavery. A naive view, to be sure, but when I bothered to think of it at all, that's what I figured. My family had just... not been involved.

But then I was confronted with this. Mr. Whipple, the man I had found such a connection with was the worst kind of master-- he captained a slave ship. He and his crew kidnapped people, abducted them from their homes, and forced them on a journey that was no less than torturous. How many people had my great grandfather killed? How many souls did he throw overboard? Most of what happened on those journeys across the sea is almost unspeakable. The complete degradation of another human soul as conducted by a man who later went on to sign a document espousing the grand ideas of Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness-- the irony is almost too much to bear.

But wait, it gets better.

I was in New Hampshire volunteering for the campaign of a son of an African immigrant. My candidate is black, and although he does not come from a direct ancestry of slavery, I'm fairly sure that if we went far enough back-- say, back to the 1730s-- somebody in his family tree was affected by slavery. Nobody without extensive genealogy records would know for certain, but still. I'm not only fulfilling Grandpa William's legacy by working in national politics in New Hampshire. I'm proving something else entirely by working to elect a black man.

That's when the race got a little more personal for me. I was not only working to elect a man I thought would make the best president, I was working to prove that I am better than Mr. Whipple. Maybe if I could help elect this man, my family's debt to society would somehow be closer to being paid. Maybe.

Super delegates? Do they have super powers?

Riding high from a week of victories, Obama is leading in number of states, number of votes, and, most importantly, number of delegates. Now, the delegate system is complicated to begin with (think the electoral college, only with more delegates and caucuses), but the addition of super delegates confuses matters further. I am a polysci nerd who follows the news with an unhealthy glee, and even I had no idea what the super delegates were all about.

What are super delegates (or superdelegates)? They're party officials, either Democrats who hold elected office or high-ranking members of the DNC. There are 796 of them in all, and they are free to vote for whomever they choose at the convention in Denver. Each of them counts as one delegate-- in other words, each super delegate is worth 1/3 of the Virgin Islands' delegation or 1/370 of California's delegation. Several of them have already endorsed one candidate or another (for example, Bill Clinton is a super delegate), but they are always able to change their minds right up to the convention.

Super delegates were instituted after the 1980 election. The Democrats decided to get out of the smoke-filled room and give the voting public more say in the primary process back in 1968 with the McGovern-Fraser commission. The problem with this, of course, is that some powerful people were nostalgic for those smokey rooms, and wanted more say in their party's primary. Thus, super delegates were created.

Normally, super delegates vote along with whatever the prevailing winds are from the primary process. It was obvious that John Kerry would get the nomination long before the 2004 DNC Convention. But this election is so close, their 796 votes might actually matter.

The Obama campaign is encouraging super delegates to vote with the will of the people. In other words, if Obama has won the most delegates, but still does not have enough for nomination, super delegates should vote Obama. Clinton is countering, saying that the super delegate system was set up so that party insiders could have a say and decide who the best candidate would be for the party. Clinton has a valid point, but this primary election is incredibly unique.

Normally, interest in the primary selection process is limited to party insiders and liberal activists. Candidates who appeal to the far left have historically done better in the primaries, and the super delegates were a way to assure a moderating presence. This election, however, has seen record turnout in every part of the country. What we are seeing is true democracy-- more people are caring, more people are voting, and more people are having their voices heard than ever before.

And many of those voices are declaring support for Obama.

The Democratic party has long held true to the ideals of true democracy. No matter what the public ends up declaring, the super delegates should respect it and not seek to overturn the popular vote. To do otherwise would be nothing short of disenfranchisement.

notes on an Obama convention

One of the last people to speak when the volunteers were going around the room and saying why we were supporting Obama was a man in fatigues who had come in late. He took the mic and grinned a little, saying, "Well, in this uniform I've got to be careful what I say, I guess."

The whole room got on our feet to applaud him. I have never seen anybody look so embarrassed. His wife next to him was beaming. As people sat back down he cleared his throat and said "Well, that--right there--that shows anybody how patriotic all these people are." He went on to say, quite briefly, that he was a voter for more than military reasons, that his interests were more than Army, but that, and this was important, he thought Obama alone wasn't interested in being commander-in-chief for personal reasons. He said that his fellow men and women in arms deserved better than being used as weapons for someone's political agenda. I think the poor guy would have died of embarrassment if he'd gotten another standing ovation, but he was eloquent and thoughtful and defied convention and stereotype in the name of common sense, and he deserved one.

A little while later I was chatting with a different group and a bald, bikerish looking man with strong arms and a black t-shirt said he was a civics teacher from a different precinct. He worked with high school kids in a rural part of the state. He'd been an Obama supporter since the 2004 Convention (one of the Top 10 Reasons, along with He Reminds Me Of Kennedy, He's Got Integrity, and His Wife Rocks), but he said he'd really realized the power of Obama's message when one of his students had come to him after having read Dreams From My Father. "This really helped me make up my mind," the kid had said. The teacher's eyes filled with tears, surprising because he looked completely hard-boiled, and he continued, with his voice breaking, "He said, 'I want to be like him.'"

We're within reach of a president who could be a real role model, a commander with a conscience, a leader who inspires our own visions and a head of state who lights up what is best in his people.

I'll caucus for that.

Yes. We. Can.

Edwards

I know I'm getting a day behind on my soundbite analysis, but I wanted to give a nod to John Edwards, who left the race yesterday with a very graceful sendoff. I'm a little surprised he didn't stay in it until Feb. 5, but I guess at a certain point it stops being worth spending that much money to make the convention interesting.

Obviously, I'd have liked him to endorse Obama, but I thought it was classy of him let his supporters decide for themselves and to challenge both of the remaining candidates to deliver on the issue that kept him going this far. Poverty, at the end of the day, is the underlying injustice that neither grand words nor a great resume can remedy, and a challenge that the Democratic Party will have to rally around to make good on any presidential promises. I like Edwards. He's smart, he's got good ideas, and I wish he could have been president four years ago. And I think it's a bit too bad, and not a little ironic, that someone who would have made a good president had the bad luck to come up against, as he said it himself, the course of history.

Apparently in politics it never rains but it pours. And I'd rather have too many good choices than too many lousy ones, because in the long run, if we remember the ideals we all really share and the common problems we have to solve, many voices make us strong.

"Let us strive on to finish the work we are in,

to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations."
--Abraham Lincoln, Second Inaugural Adress, May 4, 1865

"It serves us then to reflect on whether that element of Lincoln's character, and the American character - that aspect which makes tough choices, and speaks the truth when least convenient, and acts while still admitting doubt - remains with us today."
--Barack Obama, Remarks at the Opening of the Lincoln Presidential Museum and Library April 20, 2005


The similarities between Barack Obama and Lincoln have been examined in depth by a variety of different media outlets. Whether theirs is a comparison of political convenience or a real and uncanny set of circumstances and beliefs, it has certainly become an issue. But some thins are just plain fact: both come from relatively economically disadvantaged backgrounds: a log cabin for Lincoln, a small apartment raised by a single mother for Obama. Both took advantage of the educational opportunities afforded them. For Lincoln this meant a lifetime of voracious reading. For Obama, it meant finally understanding the importance of education as a young man and a decision to embrace his studies. Both came from the western-most reaches of the US at the time: Kentucky for Lincoln, Hawaii for Obama. Both ended up in Springfield, Illinois. They even announced their intentions to run for president within yards of each other, separated only by a few yards and a century and a half.

Both began the run for president as relative unknowns, inexperienced statesmen ready for the challenges of the presidency. Each has several years in the Illinois state legislature together, and each has a handful of years in national politics.

Both have critics that say they were or are not ready to lead the nation, but in both cases, America understood the times required exceptional leadership.

Here is a passage from a The Daily Gazette for the City of Davenport on November 13, 1860:
"[The Republican Party] was defeated but not disheartened. The necessity for the existence of such a party became more apparnt as the administration of Buchanan progressed, and its repeated infamies shocked the sensibilities of an intelligent and patriotic people... It presented the name of Abraham Lincoln for the presidency-- a conservative man, an honest man, a man fully qualified for any position in the republic, and most peculiarly adapted to take the reins of government at this time of great agitation and peril."

Replace "Republican" with "Democrat" and "Buchanan" with "Bush," and you get a fairly accurate representation of current governmental trends.

Recently, Katie Couric asked the presidential candidates what books they would bring with them to the White House. Each had a good answer. Senator Clinton said she would bring a copy of the Federalist Papers, as well as a copy of the Constitution. Senator McCain chose Smith's The Wealth of Nations. But one answer stood out. I quote it here:

Sen. Barack Obama: "Doris Kearns Goodwin's book Team of Rivals. It was a biography of Lincoln. And she talks about Lincoln's capacity to bring opponents of his and people who have run against him in his cabinet. And he was confident enough to be willing to have these dissenting voices and confident enough to listen to the American people and push them outside of their comfort zone. And I think that part of what I want to do as president is push Americans a little bit outside of their comfort zone. It's a remarkable study in leadership."

There it is. Both Obama and Lincoln are the kinds of politicians that come along once every century: confident enough to listen to dissenting views, but unafraid to make the decisions necessary.

Back in 2005, Barack Obama wrote an interesting piece in Time Magazine about Lincoln (What I See in Lincoln's Eyes). More specifically, Obama writes about the final portrait of Lincoln, taken just a week before his death. In it, Obama reflects on Lincoln's life and its impact on his own leadership. "In Lincoln's rise from poverty," Obama writes, "his ultimate mastery of language and law, his capacity to overcome personal loss and remain determined in the face of repeated defeat--in all this, he reminded me not just of my own struggles. He also reminded me of a larger, fundamental element of American life--the enduring belief that we can constantly remake ourselves to fit our larger dreams."


This is the photo of which Obama is writing, the photo that, in his words, "alters tragedy into grace." Through it all, Lincoln smiles.

How To Preach To The Choir

My boss gave me a book today. The title could be roughly paraphrased as "101 Reasons You Already Know For Thinking What You Already Think." It was, in other words, a sermon to the choir. It is also the kind of book I probably wouldn't read even if I was getting paid for it (which I suppose I am) because I find it a waste of time to page through a document that exists for like-minded people to pat each other on the back about having the Right Beliefs. Don't bother talking if you're only going to tell me something I want to hear. The irony of preaching to the choir is one of the most annoying pitfalls of public discourse, conjuring up to me images of a marionette parson spouting canned platitudes while a crowd of the already-converted stands behind him, hymnals at the ready, nodding self-satisfied assent in bobble-headed unison.

There is no challenge in this kind of discourse. There is no realism, no honor, no passion, and no progress. We see far too much of it, from the ivory tower to the mass media; people huddled together with like-minded people, whose rhetoric spirals around the need to prove to themselves that they are justified in channeling their outrage into a like-minded comfort zone.

It might sound hypocritical, after that, to say that I was a convert to the Obama mission the first time I heard him speak. I was watching the 2004 Democratic National Convention Keynote with my mouth hanging open, wondering who was this guy who seemed to have taken my own ideals of national identity and written them in vibrant letters on his banner of hope. I've been in the choir ever since, and I'm not sure I'll ever get tired of listening to Obama preach.

Unlike most of the self-appointed prophets and pundits who hold court in the blogs, in the press, and on the campaign trail, Obama grasps the difference between a choir and a chorus line. The disappointment I feel in reading my boss's self-affirming books comes from the knowledge that their circulation is limited to people who think exactly the same way I do, who thought that way before they read the book, and who will continue to think and act in the same bubble once they've put it down. This kind of closed loop has no momentum, and we're past the point where we can afford to watch politicians bow, pander, and chase their tails. Obama's supporters are not yes-men. His message does not rely on everyone getting together in the green room to learn a pre-choreographed routine. Most of the men and women who are flocking to his standard are people who until now were convinced the choir was not for them. Our advantage is in our dissimilarity, in the tide of cacaphony that makes our harmony rich, and in our common realization that something remarkable is bringing us together.

Good preaching is a hard skill to come by. It takes great eloquence to convince the cynics that your cause is worth believing in; it takes great leadership to show the disillusioned that their actions matter; and it takes great heart to tell people what they may not want to hear and still promise that we have reasons to hope. Obama can preach without self-righteousness and unite us through our challenges, not our blind assent. He understands the two key obligations of the pulpit: you must tell people what they need to do, not just what they want to hear; and even when a mighty choir has got your back, you must give them their chance to sing.