It's been so long since I've blogged that I think I've forgotten how. I keep meaning to say something, to start shouting into the void again, and every time I pick up the virtual pen, I blank out. The words stick to the roof of my mouth and I don't seem to be able to get past it. I'm doing the very thing I despise in others: I'm letting the perfect get in the way of good enough. I guess I'd better shut up and start writing.
I got stalled in November 2008 when I lost my job the day before Obama got elected. I haven't written a diary on DailyKos since. I picked up a job as political director for a local campaign, which was in keeping with my "keep it local" mantra. I was part of the winning team, which was awesome. I worked myself out of a job, which was less awesome. By August of 2009, I was starting to get desperate for work, and began to look outside my beloved hometown of Austin. I picked up one of the hardest jobs I've ever had: Executive Director of the League of Women Voters of Texas. It's a fantastic organization, one I will be a member of for the rest of my days. But to do it, I had to be non-partisan. During the 82nd Legislative Session, when the sonogram bill went through, when the Republicans got a super-majority in the TX House, when lots of really great Democrats went home in defeat.
I had to resign as precinct chair, and from the SDEC. I felt awful. I managed to mentor a long-distance friend as he got involved with races in Boston, MA. I envied his pretty blue state as I steered him to his local state representatives, and I was really proud to watch him dig into a congressional race. I was heartened to see how he accepted a primary defeat with grace, and I felt as though I was still participating in a way, even though I was muzzled at home.
I did the best I could, for as long as I could manage, before sprinting for the door in February of 2011. With a new job that allowed me to be partisan again, I came back to the fold, but I was quieter, less energetic, and more than a little dejected that I'd have to regain some valuable territory. The political world had moved on without me, I thought. Then I remembered, I'm in Texas. As Democrats in a red state, we're not going anywhere fast.
I'll continue prattling after the jump...
I worked my way back into the SDEC. After redistricting, the senate district looked pretty different, but I've been doing my best to learn the new boundaries. I expect them to change before the next census, but maybe I'm foolishly deceiving myself that it's obvious that the lines are illegal, and surely everybody knows they can't stand legal muster, right? The Voting Rights Act will save us, right?
And now I watch as Battleground Texas comes to town.
It's hard not to be deeply suspicious. We've been the ATM for the US for so long now. We're so used to having our volunteers poached for duties other than Texas (yes, I know they go of their own free will, but damn, it hurts to see them go, and it's easier to blame the people who took them than to hold it against Texans for abandoning the state). Now you guys come sauntering in and expect open arms?
Except, they don't. They know they have to earn our trust. They know this is a long-haul fight, and they know that Texas is huge and diverse, and ready to go. They tell us that they had such amazing volunteers from Texas who kept asking when they could do this kind of work back home. They say that everybody who has ever heard a comment about how powerful it could be to turn Texas blue, immediately locks on and says they want to be a part of it. They tell us that the tide will turn, and it's up to US to make it happen.
And I feel unbidden shame that we've tried so hard for so long, and haven't been able to do this for ourselves. We've begged for resources, and have been told no. We've tried to get candidates, and no one stepped up. It burns me that it takes this national rescue party to get some folks excited about this. An outside group is the only one who can convince the locals that we're not a lost cause, that there really is hope.
I saw people tonight at the Battleground Texas meeting with Jeremy Bird who I have never seen before. I hope I see them again, and often. I hope I can learn to let go of the resentment I feel. The "where were you when we needed you at home?" accusation feels as though it's blazing from my face. If you see it, I apologize. I am working through it.
I have to be grateful for the help now. I have to be mindful. I have to embrace that I will see a blue Texas, but only with this kind of help. This is not an airlift, this is not an occupation. This is reinforcement.
I have moved from deep skepticism to cautious optimism. I'm excited to see what this may bring, and I'm ready to get back into the game. Hell, I'm even accidentally mentoring a new precinct chair. Every day, a little more progress.
It's good to be back. Let's do this.