Why I didn't go

This morning I woke up at 6 am thinking about going to Lansing to join a protest. Just a few days ago when we were watching the amazing showdown in Wisconsin I told my sweetie that if somebody organized a demonstration like that nearby, I’d go. And now they have, though Lansing isn’t exactly close. It’s 166 miles away. I checked on Mapquest when I was thinking about rousing Vic, feeding us blueberry pancakes, and setting off.

When I made that declaration a few days ago I was feeling the burn. I’m not comfortable with anger. In the love-fear-anger dance I tend to vacillate between love and fear and usually shove my anger into annoyance or depression. Vic will affirm that I hate to listen to progressive talk-show ranters nearly as much as I hate to listen to the right wingers. I turn away from meanness in all forms. But when meanness hits the statehouses and Congress and starts getting turned into law, I get really mad. It’s the power-plus-meanness combination that makes me want to throw things.

I thought a few days ago, and still do, that the Wisconsin phenomenon was about more than the attack on unions. I think Wisconsin has provided a focal point for people like me, who are sick and tired of the meanness. We have voted against it and tried to ignore it and not get sucked into it, but we are really alarmed at how quickly it has snuck back into power, and worse this time. This is how countries go Nazi. Not to equate anybody with anything but still. Wisconsin is about just saying no to demagoguery.

So why am I not on my way to Lansing with my husband, who has just come down for coffee and doesn’t know how close I came to dragging him out of bed, filling the little car’s tank with $3.50 gas, and heading to our state capitol?

Well, that $3.50 gas is one reason. As the Middle East explodes with pent-up anger against real demagoguery, the last thing we Americans should be whining about is the price of gas, but we know very well that the price hikes are not based on sudden shortages. Rather, oil companies and speculators see the chaos as a chance to line their pockets. I want no part of that. Or rather, I want as little part in that as possible. And as little part as possible in putting unnecessary carbon into the atomosphere with an unnecessary trip. We must choose our trips carefully.

And I want to choose my battles carefully. As you see, I have to add nuances. I have trouble making categorical statements. Protests and demonstrations require categorical statements. This one has been billed as solidarity with the Wisconsin unions. And yes I support them but I think there is more going on here and I’d like a way to say that. I don’t think I can do it by adding my body to the masses that (I do hope) are gathering in state capitols around the country. The problem is not just union-breaking. In Illinois it is quite different. I’m not sure what it is in my own state. Driving 166 miles on Mideast gasoline to make a categorical statement about Wisconsin unions is not yet where it’s at for me.

Well. Time to make those blueberry pancakes, topped with maple syrup from my family woods. Is this a cop-out or what?