together harmoniously enough, and I wonder why we, as residents of the nation these banners represent, seem to have difficulty following suit.
Some people with whom I’ve discussed this issue say the media hype over red and blue states, as a carry-over from the last presidential election, has no effect on their lives or politics. While I appreciate this “let’s just ignore it and hope it will go away” stance, I
can’t completely agree with it. I suspect that the image of a red and blue US map, reminiscent of textbook graphics showing the division between states during the time of the Civil War, has seeped into our national consciousness in much the same way that an
advertising jingle might lodge itself in an individual’s mind.
For the purpose of writing this article (this autoethnography, or an attempt to examine self and culture), I examined my own perspective, and how it has been colored by the larger, polarized picture. I realized I’ve been guilty of sticking to my own kind (who would mostly fall under the “blue” category) at least since November 2004. I’ve convinced myself that I’m just being polite by not discussing the important issues with people of a more “red” point of view (such as many of my family members). When in reality, I’ve been hiding out in a metaphorical trench of my own digging. People often talk about how we live in “a climate of fear.” If this is so, I believe it’s created by both sides of the red and blue dichotomy.
As one who contributes to the political majority of a blue state, I’ve been discouraged by the amount of anti-liberal propaganda promulgated by the extreme right, especially on the many hate-radio shows I’ve flipped through on my AM dial. On the flip side, I
realize many members of the far Right feel just as persecuted. They say a “liberal media” has vilified their causes. So, if we (red and
blue) are both reeling from perceived injustices, it seems we do have something in common after all. We both know how to feel oppression and use it to gain “victim” status.
We may also have another mutual concern. Most people I’ve talked to don’t like the red and blue paradigm any more than they understand or appreciate the color-code warning system developed by our nation’s department of Homeland Security. While
many of us on the non-Republican side of the bi-chrome scheme may indeed have felt extremely blue after November 2004, we still find the political category distasteful. Most blues I know are the kind of people who would rather be thought of in shades of gray. However, there are also those who say they would rather be thought of as “purple” in their vision. In the spirit of civil discourse, they propose entertaining both “red” and “blue” ideas, mixing the hues together, and maybe even coloring outside the lines.
Using the color “red” as a Republican signifier has baffled me ever since I began noticing a couple of years ago how often Bush and
company wore red ties when making public appearances. Red may be “a power color” when dressing for success, but it’s also
the color of blood, an association neoconservatives might want to avoid--especially since they’ve voiced much dissatisfaction with media reports on body counts or war-time casualties. Additionally, in light of recent history, it seems odd that the creators of the
Patriot Act might think of themselves as “reds.”
(What would McCarthy think?)
After meditating on the strange attachments to red and blue, and acknowledging that segregation themes based on color have done little for our national morale in the past, I’ve been making my own personal attempt to venture into more open territory. Since my
trench had gotten pretty deep, it wasn’t easy to climb out initially. But once I saw the light at play, creating a grander (and yes, more
colorful) display, I happily vowed to become more involved in the world outside my living room.
Communications with “red” friends and family helped me let go of some defenses--especially when I discovered that many of us
have similar concerns about important issues. Blues don’t have a monopoly on worrying about the environment, just as reds haven’t cornered the market on patriotism. It seems we mostly support our troops, even those of us (red and blue) who aren’t certain if we agree with our government’s reasons for prolonged occupation in Iraq. Everyone I’ve talked to also wants to see the world become a better place for future generations. Indeed, it seems most people share a common vision of peace and prosperity as a foundation for building that future. Specifically, such things as affordable healthcare, support for education, and a sound economy seemed high on most people’s lists.
As conversations have continued, many of my friends and family were relieved to learn that I, as a liberal (they seem to have difficulty with the term ‘progressive’), do not favor a Bolshevik-style revolution, do not want to spend American tax dollars on hiring a therapist for Osama bin Laden, and will not vote to expel their children for praying in school. In turn, I was intrigued by how many of my Christian
relatives did not feel threatened by the teaching of the theory of evolution in our public schools, question our current strategy in the Iraq
war, and want more checks on corporate abuses (such as those exhibited in the Enron scandal).
This doesn’t mean I’ve completely recovered from my blue period and adopted a rosier picture of the national scene. However, I feel
I am finally consciously making an attempt to face a personal problem, reflected by a larger societal issue: to get past the narrow view that comes with labeling (the absurdity of which was captured so beautifully in Dr. Seuss’s tale of star-bellied and plain-bellied sneetches) and into a more inclusive mindset. It is because I cannot deny the influence of partisan politics, trickling--as it does--from the abstract world of government into personal lives, that I realize that many of us would benefit from a new, more gracious [purple?] vision. We might learn a great deal more about solving problems (that affect all of us despite our “color codes”) by finding points of agreement, rather than building defensive barriers with rumors and misconceptions.
With the hope that it might help me free myself further from my egocentric refuge, I also tried getting more directly involved in politics.
Owning up to my party of choice found me volunteering at the Democrat’s voter registration booth at Eureka’s Independence Day Fair. After listening to one person tell me my party needed to have the guts to take a more leftist stand, and another person complain about the election of Howard Dean as party chair because he’s “too far left,” I jokingly told my partner that the right and the left do have something in common--they both hate the Democrats. Yet, I also thoroughly enjoyed experiencing the true essence of the democratic experience--that is, to paraphrase Walt Whitman, listening to all sides and filtering them for myself.
In my current efforts I feel like Shakespeare’s Miranda beholding “a brave new world,” as I take steps to come out of my sheltered,
one-sided thinking and into the diverse “real” landscape that exists outside of the authority of “media” interpretations. In order to fully appreciate the variety of hues, shapes and perspectives involved in the real stuff of life, I found it necessary to work my way out
of a sort of warped, paint-by-numbers impression. Examining “color” politics helped me understand how absurd narrow categories can be, especially when applied to creative human nature. Who would be ridiculous enough to suggest that an artist like Van Gogh paint with just a few colors in a prescribed style--what an aesthetic disaster! By the same token, I think of how destructive it would be to keep living according to a divisive strategy: what a loss of democratic opportunity for all of us reds, blues, purples and oranges who still feel the pulse of the American promise of “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.”
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