LUCY PICK BOOKS

Scratching your head over what to buy all the people on your list this year? Want something not too expensive, but personal and meaningful at the same time? Save an industry; buy a book. The fabulous Moonrat explains why in her post on the travails of the publishing industry.

Hat-tip: Julianne Douglas

Last Sunday I had a chance to hear Hillary Clinton speak at a small fundraiser for Obama on what was her sixty-first birthday. I was madly curious to go and hear what she had to say.
The crowd seemed like a mix of long-devoted Hillary supporters and true-blue Obama backers, but everyone was enthusiastic and excited to be there. Her speech was good, heavy on the practical logistics of the final week of campaigning and what we all needed to do, and light on soaring rhetoric but it fit the audience. The most interesting part was her answer to two questions asked by members of the audience. The first asked her what role she’d like to play in an Obama government. She strongly ruled out interest in a Supreme Court position and, maybe more surprisingly, not only insisted she would prefer to stay in the Senate to taking a cabinet post but also warned forcefully against Obama stripping the Senate to build his cabinet. That made sense to me.
She was also asked to compare the ’92 and ’08 campaigns. She made some predictable comments about the effects technological changes — the internet and cell phones — and then spoke quite movingly of how much she thought Bill and Barack had in common in their background and their values, from their shared fatherlessness, their age, their message of change, to the fact they both have daughters. “And I think they both married intelligent professional women,” she said, getting a big cheer.
I do have to add one comment about her looks. I hate to do this because it should not be relevant at all. But appearance is hugely important for women candidates and one of the things I admired about her campaign was the way she set a standard for the way women politicians could both look womanly and professional at the same time. Anyway: I have to say that at this event, up close, she looked absolutely fabulous. Stunning. She is a tiny person, and shame on those who have mentioned her hips — so untrue. And those rumours about Botox? Completely false. She was a couple of feet from me with a huge smile on her face and I’ll eat my hat if she isn’t as nature made her.

You know how every time you read about something you know about in the newspaper, they get it all wrong? It makes you so mad — and it makes you wonder how accurate they are about all the things you read about that you *don’t* know anything about.

Well, here’s an exception that proves that rule (proves = “tests,” not “shows it to be true”). Peter Slevin wrote a wonderful article about Hyde Park that not only contains no factual errors so far as I could find, it also truly captures the flavour of the neighbourhood I call home.

“Hyde Park should be held up as an example of what an integrated community could be,” says University of Chicago law professor M. Todd Henderson, who grew up in a white Pittsburgh suburb. “It wasn’t some sort of social experiment.”

Henderson says his adopted community is a place where ideas matter more than pedigree and one cannot infer social status by skin color. He says the visible hardships in nearby neighborhoods and the persistent threat of crime undermine any notion that Hyde Park is, in his words, “a fantasy land.”

“To criticize Hyde Park as being aloof, out of touch and elitist is just poppycock,” he says. “I’m a dyed-in-the-wool Republican, and there is nothing America should be ashamed about Hyde Park. On the contrary, America should be proud of Hyde Park.”

Here’s the rest at the link:

Uncommon Ground

These are almost two weeks old now, but at last I am taking some time to post them. The hard-working and well-connected Laura Hussein got us into another wonderful small event where we were able to listen to and meet my biggest heroine in these days, Michelle Obama. She was all that.

What do I like about her? I think I identify with her both as my neighbour, and as a woman of my generation who has faced, and continues to face the same kind of balancing act of children, partner, career and family that I and all my friends struggle with. She is so natural. I’m sure there is a private side to her that we don’t see, but she came in front of, her Chicago peeps, with no makeup on but a little lipstick and her hair knotted up in a ponytail. I love that. I’m sure time spent *not* primping is more time spent with her girls. And of course she was stunning anyway.

The speech she gave was the one you’ve all heard, about her background and Barack’s, and how they “get it,” but there was a new note of graciousness and generosity added in, a tone that said “first lady.” Barack’s opponents were never mentioned by name, and only alluded to in the vaguest way. There was also lots of talk about how this is not about Barack, about how this is a whole movement of people who are longing for change in so many different areas.

When she was done, she came along the rope line and spoke to every single person who wanted a word with her, including us. “We’re Lab School mothers,” my friends said, and her face lit up.

I worry about her. The sacrifice she and her daughters are making is incredible, and she is making it willingly, but I worry that she will become (or continue to be) a target, the same way that Hillary was by people who prefer to distort a caricature than to get to know the real woman. I hope she knows that the women in Hyde Park know the real Michelle, the one who is always the gym display at her kids’ school and the ballet recital, and that we’ll always have her back.

Not much point going door to door in my neighbourhood, so on the 6th I drove up to Kalamazoo with a few friends to see if they could put us to use. Our first stop was campaign headquarters, where we found a huge crowd of volunteers from Illinois being put into service by the efficient Kalamazoo staff. They gave us a choice. We could canvas in a well-to-do suburb, or we could do voter registration on the north side of town, a poorer predominantly African American neighbourhood. We chose the latter, figuring we would at least get a good welcome in an area that was bound to be pro Obama, and we were right. Everywhere we went we were greeted with friendly smiles and little children followed us saying “Obama? Obama?” Almost everyone was already registered and excited to vote, and many had stickers or signs and were doing volunteer work themselves. The majority of new people we registered were ex-offenders who were stunned when we told them they were legally entitled to vote in Michigan. One man sticks out in my memory. No doubt poorly educated — he let his girlfriend fill out the form for him — he was very bright. “We need change,” he said, “Things can’t keep going the way they have been.”

We were able to return again to Kalamazoo this past Saturday, and this time we went straight to a house in a pretty tree-lined suburb, welcomed by a woman juggling us and her daughter’s soccer game. She told us her husband was in the electrical union but had been laid off, and was delighted to get a position on the Obama campaign. When I donate money, I always think of it going to ads and fliers. It was nice to think that some of it going to people too. Before we left to canvas, we were taught a new way to approach potential supporters. We were not to deluge them with policy positions or debate the issues, but find out what their biggest concerns are and then create an emotional bond of empathy between us before trying to connect them to something in Obama’s life or positions that would address their concerns. Basically, we were going out telling people, “I am like you and Barack is like me.” They had a lovely glossy brochure printed up, heavy on the biography and family photos, designed to show that Obama gets where they come from, that his story is their story. It came in handy with our most memorable visit that day. This was to an elderly woman in a nursing home. We had no idea what to expect, because just before we spoke to her we spoke to the only PUMA I have ever met. “Have you thought about voting for Obama?” we asked. “Is he the…the Black?” she responded. Our hearts sank. We started to talk about his mother and his grandparents in Hawaii, but she paid no attention. “Because I don’t care about any of that,” she said, meaning his race, “We need a change. I think I am going to vote for the Democrat this time.” She told us about growing up in Bridgeport and being a poll worker for the first Mayor Daley, of seeing racism first hand in her neighbourhood and hating it. We opened the brochure and showed her the Christmas card photo of the Obamas. “What a lovely family he has,” she said.

Coolest. Lipsync. Ever.