Earlier this month I got an email from one of the various progressive websites that I subscribe to, asking me to pledge to attend at least one Town Hall discussion with a representative during August before they all go back to Washington. In spite of the fact that all conflict makes my heart rate jump and often leads to hyperventilation - even when I'm not directly involved in it - I made this pledge. I feel like I don't have full right to be as vocally supportive of Health Care Reform if I'm not really walking the walk. However, I then found that nearly all of the meetings with my rep were either during a week day when I couldn't attend because I had to work or in towns outside Seattle that weren't particularly easy to get to. I've always been incredibly honest (some might say to a fault at times) and it was worrying me that I may have made a promise via the interwebs that I was not going to be able to fulfill. Then, with just a week to go in the month, I learned of a Town Hall that was happening on a Sunday and in a town just outside of Seattle. Totally do-able. So I sucked up my hesitation, packed a paper bag to breathe into and headed out.
While my revolutionary husband would've liked to attend with me, he had to work. So I was joined with 2 of our best friends. I was grateful to have them with me. So we get in line about 2 hours before it's set to start. We then learn that the residents of this representative's congressional district were to be allowed in first and anyone else would be allowed in later. We figured, even though they are technically not in his congressional district, my friends live less than a mile away from us so we would just break the "rules" and they'd go in with me anyway. But at the front there appeared to be a sort of sign-in sheet. They figured they'd be found out, so I went in with the aim of saving seats and they waited outside. Turns out all the check-in folks asked was my zip code, which is the same as theirs, so they totally could've come in with me (this was one of those times when that honesty can be a detriment). But by the time we figured this all out, it was too late, they'd already been branded as "outsiders" and I ventured in on my own for over an hour of solo people watching. They finally got in right before it started, though only one of them could fit in the crowded bleacher space I'd been saving (I suck at saving seats apparently) so we were separated. But at least we all got in.
About 15 minutes before the meeting starts, people start marching around the gym with their signs, eliciting cheers and/or boos from others in the place who agreed or disagreed with what they said. My adrenaline shoots up but I do some deep breathing and try to stay calm. Even when the guy with the "I like my health care - buy your own" (seriously) sign walks by. Breathe, Devin.
People continue to pour in and by the time it starts our view is nearly completely blocked by people who had no seats to sit in. Here's a crappy iPhone shot of my view before it was totally blocked:
Representative Jay Inslee, who I already really like, enters and commences to give me even more reasons to like him. He introduces us to a local 4th grader who leads us all in the Pledge of Allegiance. He then asks us all to turn to our left and shake our neighbor's hand and asks that if our neighbor says something later that we disagree with, that we remember that handshake. He then starts with a brief powerpoint presentation highlighting the FACTS of our current health care system, where it is heading, and how reform would/should change it. There are a few outbursts by people who are obviously against the reform, but each time it happens he reminds us all that the sooner he can be allowed to get through it the sooner he can get to our questions. He also later thanks the 99% of us who are being respectful and allowing our neighbors to speak. Nice touch.
The questions begin. Before it started, anyone who wanted to ask a question could put their name and their city on a card and place it in one of 3 boxes - FOR Health care Reform, AGAINST Health care Reform or UNDECIDED/regarding another issue. Cards were then drawn out of the boxes and those people got to ask their questions or make their comments, so all "sides" were given an opportunity to speak. For the most part, people would let others speak and Jay was given a chance to respond. People would applaud and cheer when they agreed with what was said. But every so often someone would say something that would spark loud LOUD boos and heckles. I'd be willing to bet that if a poll was taken on every single person in that room, there were more of us in support of the bill. But those who are against it are loud. I don't know how that always seems to be true, but it does. While it wasn't to the point that I've seen it at other Town Halls (on the news), it was still a bit overwhelming at times. And each time it happened I just took a breath, took comfort in the fact that I was at least sitting with people who feel similarly to me and remembered that I am not alone. We stayed for the hour and a half that it was scheduled for and then needed to leave as one of my friends had a class he needed to get to. I was fine cutting out when we did, particularly so I could get back to a stabilized pulse rate. I'd been there, clapped and cheered my support and fulfilled my promise.
I should note right now that I realize this post is probably reading rather incoherently. I'm still processing it all. I'm trying to figure out if anything was really accomplished by it all. I hope so. I'm glad I was there to at least act as a head in the crowd who was cheering on my representative's support of the bill. I'm happy I got to hear my Rep speak and see him diffuse a frequently tense situation with honesty (if he didn't know the answer to something he made sure his staff had that person's contact information and he would look into that specific issue and keep in touch with that person) and at times, humor. There were some good points made - many by Inslee and also by a few people asking questions. But mainly, it was a bunch of people who had already made up their minds and didn't really want to work with the other "side." ("Side" Note: I keep putting "side" in quotes because I hate that things have become so contentious between people in this country that we are no longer constituents but are really now relegated to "sides." Us against them.) It makes me sad. But I can't say I'm any different. I don't want to negotiate. I want Health Care Reform now. I want a Public Option. I want Socialism, dammit! So I'm no different than anyone else on the other "side" who won't hear the other "side's" thoughts, am I?
It's pretty great that we live in a country where we really do get the chance to voice our opinions on issues. And regardless of how much I disagree with many people in attendance today (particularly those who showed up there - as they do anywhere there's a political discussion - with giant, grossly inappropriate posters of graphic, awful pictures of aborted fetuses and make everything an issue about abortion) I do appreciate that people are taking an active interest in the workings of their country. Apathy really is the biggest enemy in a democracy, right? I say this every election day that rolls around and I get so frustrated with those who are given the voice to vote and don't use it.
But honestly, with some issues, I just wish the other "side" would stop caring.
Literally, as I was typing the above, Moby jumped up on the table and started sniffing a flower we have in a vase. Here is a picture of said flower, courtesy of my handy dandy iPhone that conveniently sits beside me: 
Notice the...what are they called? My middle school science knowledge is failing me...stamen? The little antennae things that are covered in a sort of orange powder in the middle of the flower. Notice those. Moby sniffed them. He now looks like this:
No, he doesn't naturally have orange powdery splotches on his face. Although I guess you could say it was nature that gave him those splotches just now. He now looks like he got into a bag of Cheetos.