Open Letter to the DNC, Debbie & Hillary

Hi DNC. Hey Hillary how’s it going?

I’m technically a member of your party at the moment–though my eagerness to remain is waning fast. I’m one of those kids who registered to vote the day I turned 18. I’ve voted in every election except Bush v. Gore. Sorry. I was out of the country, nowhere near the consulate and I figured my country would ‘do the right thing.’ So mea culpa. Sorry for that one.  But this stuff with Clinton and Trump? That’s your fault.

And not that this part matters, but I think I should tell you my demographic information. I’m 47. Mother of two. Married to a man. Master’s degree. Former adjunct professor, scraping by. No real debt except the giant student loan I’ll never be able to repay because the interest and the owner of the loan keep changing. They call up and ask sometimes what my plan is? Death. Death is now my plan. I’m not a bank that’s too big to fail; I’m a person whose too small to give a shit about. Except for the fact that presently? There’s a whole lotta persons too small to give a shit about but collectively we are all pretty pissed and that anger means your bullshit elections are not making us rally. We rent a house in a tiny town in the forest; it goes without saying we were priced out of our coastal homeland. California. I love you.

It’s not just that you did nothing to help student loan crisis. I was in college during Gingrich Contract on America. But you were there too. And you could of done something. But you didn’t.

It not that you didn’t know that pesticides were bad for the food supply, it’s that you knew and then appointed shitheads from Monsanto to head the FDA anyhow.

It’s not that you didn’t know that fracking was a horrible horrible invention. I remember reading about it in the 80s. We KNEW THEN. But again? You? Party o’ the people? You didn’t do shit about it.

Like you knew about immigration. Like you knew about decades of hawk-style overseas policies.

You know these things and we know you know. You are the party that isn’t stupid. That’s supposed to be you.

And I think that’s what the Democratic party symbolizes to many of us. The party that could have done something but didn’t.

Somehow every election instead of just being okay with being progressive, or correct, or you know–the party with factual information based on logic, science and reasoning–you decide at some point that getting elected means more than having a soul. And maybe that plays okay to baby boomers, I don’t know. I can’t really answer to that. What I do know that anyone under 50 is just not going to buy it.

We were the kids you raised. We know what broken promises sound like even before they are broken. And our kids? They have even less patience for you. So you could make up things like Berniebros and other patronizing categorizations. You can make shit up about us not being educated enough to know that you are truly looking out for our interests. But all that  just makes us want to shake you and say wake the fuck up. Most of us aren’t rule followers or game players. We don’t watch your TV news. And we certainly don’t need you patting our heads.

And finally. Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m a bisexual Xicana. Lesbian mothers. I have a Spanish surname; I don’t speak Spanish and I’m not obligated to teach you jack about my culture. I’m an atheist with a strong religious background.  So that’s the demographic part of me.

DNC , Debbie, Hillary, henchmen one and all, I just want you to know that we don’t buy your arguments. We can’t afford them.

Yes. I agree. Hitler is at our gates. Yes. I agree. The likelihood of my brown family suffering under Trump is probably more immediate. You offer me a slow death of cancer and he offers a gun shot to the head. You do realize that this election should have been about climate change because you know, SCIENCE. FACTS. IMPENDING real non reverseable doom. But nah.

I think maybe that’s the main problem with the Democratic party.  You react to the bad boy Republicans as if one can fight evil rationally. They have people who run for office who hear voices in their heads that they think are god telling them to run for office. They believe the only great America was the one in which all white men were in charge of everything and no women or POCs could own land, vote, etc. That’s the greatness they speak of. We get that they are evil. WE GET IT.

But we wish you weren’t standing in the opposite corner yelling at us to chose you because you aren’t as bad.

How about instead of not being as bad, you worked on being honest? On being useful? On being something people could take pride in when they voted. Because right now you know how your message comes across? It comes across like this:

Vote for Hillary or else you will live under an oppressive Republican regime that will try to kill you and your family. That’s it, right? Vote for Hilary–or else.

Essentially you are threatening us. You threaten that if Hilary doesn’t win it will be our own faults when we face the firing Trump squads because we didn’t elect her. So she doesn’t have to be likable. She doesn’t have to be honest. She doesn’t have to chose  a progressive as a running mate. She doesn’t have to do anything for us except not be Hitler.

Because she totally isn’t Hitler.

Do you get why we are less than enthusiastic? Do you?

The irony here is that if you hadn’t worked so hard to defeat Bernie Sanders you wouldn’t be in this nervous position of having this Trump rise to power. In every poll Sanders beats Trump. But instead of realizing you had a clear winner you decided that Clinton had a destiny to fulfill.

And now you have an angry electorate. Some of us won’t vote at all. Some will vote for Stein or Johnson. Some of us will hold our nose and vote for the woman who has no problems having herself photographed with Kissinger the murderer. Someone who can’t respond immediately that fracking is detrimental to the planet. Someone who was happy to sit on the Wal-mart board of directors–the most vile retailer ever to do business in our country.There’s an amorality here. I’m glad she thinks she’s on the side of women and minorities. Yay. Good for her. But the idea that we are single issue voters—that somehow beliefs in sexual equality overrides the jeopardy of the planet? I can’t abide. I don’t think anyone under 50 can.

It didn’t have to be this nerve wracking and close. Debbie, I used to like you. You didn’t have to cheat. And the wikileaks isn’t that revealing. It just confirms what all of us suspected. Couldn’t even find a Clinton supporter where I live and yet she won. How is that possible?

The thing with Sanders? We were excited to vote. And look at that. Me a feminist voting for an old white man and happy to do it. I wasn’t the only one. DNC, instead of handing out positions of power and election support behind whomever is your favorite party hack–why not throw it back to the people? Why not let us decide?

At this point? I’m not sure who to vote for. Because it’s emotional and it feels like this. Do I vote for the planet and fail? Do I vote for the slow growing cancer that will never change as long as I keep supporting on the lesser of two evils ? Or do I stay home and wait for the gun shot to the head?

 

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About margaretelysiagarcia

Margaret Elysia Garcia primarily writes fiction, essays and poetry from a remote corner of the Sierra Nevada. She's currently working on a non-fiction book about plus-sized modeling. She's also searching for a publisher for her new collection of stories? Mary of the Chance Encounters. Her short story collection Sad Girls & Other Stories out now on Solstice Literary Press. She blogs here and at Throwing Chanclas and Girl Body Pride. Is a contributor to Hip Mama Magazine. She writes the zine The Adventures of Sad Girl with her daughter, Paloma. She’s a three-time director of the national Listen to Your Mother Show in Plumas County (www.listentoyourmothershow.com). She has an alternative women’s music show Milkshake & Honey on Plumas Community Radio (www.kqny919.org).
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3 Responses to Open Letter to the DNC, Debbie & Hillary

  1. Well, I for one certainly don’t want the gunshot to the head. Perhaps there will be a cure for cancer someday. I say go for the cancer and keep your fingers crossed because the gunshots fatal immediately.

  2. Damn Girl! Speak it! Hit the (sorry trite) nail on the head…

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