April 20, 2016
Dealing with my own mortality
OR
Coming to the realization that democracy might not exist in America
WHICH IS MORE DIFFICULT TO COME TO TERMS WITH?
On April 11, 2016 I was diagnosed with non-Hodgkins lymphoma. I had very few symptoms and had mentioned the swollen lymph node to my doctor just 2 weeks prior. I hadn't had much time to prepare myself. As of today I haven't even met with the oncologist. The tests needed to help the doctors “stage” the disease in order to develop a plan of treatment, have not even been scheduled.
Yet after yesterday's NY primary, I'm struck by the fact I am bothered less by the illness than our damaged democratic system.
I am 58 and people who know me best would say I am an over the top idealist. I'm often naive in my dreams of a better world. I've yet to become cynical regardless of personal, professional and national disappointments I have witnessed.
I grew up believing that my vote, your vote, our vote DOES count, that together, by making informed choices in that voting booth, WE could help determine the course our cities, states and country take(s).
I was taught there are politicians who care for their constituents and want to do the right thing, to do what is best for everyone and for our nation as a whole. I was in kindergarten when JFK was assassinated and remember my grandparents talking so highly of FDR. I also learned that politicians are humans and sometimes place their own self interests first. I lived through the Reagan-Bush-Bush years.
In my life I don't recall a politician with the high ideals Bernie Sanders has. Certainly not one that has served as long as he has, without becoming disgusted and cynical. I don't remember anyone so convinced that he, together with citizens he serves, can really truly change things for the better. In all the years I've been voting, there has never been a presidential candidate so willing to call it like it is, one so completely non-establishment.
My heartbreak was not brought on by his loss last night.
It stems from the crushing realization that the naysayers might be correct.
When they say it doesn't matter. That my vote doesn't matter. That voting at all doesn't matter.
If someone had told me 40 years ago that we would create or institute:
A primary system with super delegates specifically made to prevent a grassroots candidate from winning.
Laws that makes it more difficult, not easier to vote.
Systematic purging of voter rolls created in a dog whistle attempt to prevent voter fraud with the real purpose being to suppress minority and fringe voters from counting.
Laws that imprison citizens over minor drug offenses which ultimately disenfranchised an entire segment of our population.
Laws that have allowed big money in politics whereby the candidate with the highest bidder is elected and serves the buyer, not the citizens.
And lastly but sickeningly perhaps most significant:
A political party system so corrupt they look the other way when voter suppression has become so commonplace that voters too are becoming just as complacent.
So…
Back to my health.
When I suspected the worst after the first biopsy, I told my husband I didn't want to go through any of those treatments that involve getting sicker in order to get better. I have a long history of serious health problems and it didn't seem fair. Plus I'm kind of an alternative treatment kind of gal. I thought going out quietly might make sense.
Now I have a choice to make.
Go quietly and/or become complacent.
Or fight with everything I have.
I choose to fight. There's a lot at stake. Like seeing my grandchildren graduate from high school and college and getting married…
AND leaving them a democratic country.
Who's with me? In the taking back democracy part?
The other fight, the one for my health, I've totally got!
ruthjohnston1957@gmail.com
@aworldofgoods
