Small Patch of Common Ground

As a woman, white and lesbian, I have never found a candidate, be it for president, senator, governor, or mayor, with whom I agree fully. Instead I have voted and I imagine will continue to vote for the candidate with whom I disagree the least. This is perhaps why I found Senator Obama's recent speech on race not only thought-provoking, but inspiring.

Senator Obama eloquently articulated many of the racial conundrum's we've stuffed away in our closets for hundreds of years, but he also addressed one of the key ideals of what I believe to be a true democracy -- the ability to disagree and still share common ground.

When Obama compared his love of his grandmother and his affection for Reverend Wright despite his disagreement with them, he made me think of how many of us live with such contradictions. For me, this contradiction centers around my sexual orientation as well as being a woman in the dominant culture of men. I have worked with people and continue to work with people who neither support my sexual orientation nor who wholly understand what life is like as a woman in a male world. Some of these people are not my friends. They are and will remain to be simply my co-workers with whom I will have a respectful albeit distanced relationship.

Others I call friends and in doing so must see beyond their political belief system and look more deeply into their humanity. This is not always easy to do, not just for me, but for them as well. Still, when we can set aside the political bickering, when we can sit across from each other and share what we believe without fear of judgment or worse, then who we support as a candidate matters less and less.

For instance, when my partner and I chose to marry during the time Portland, Oregon offered such a window of opportunity, a co-worker/friend wrote us the most heart-felt congratulations card we ever received. "While I am still struggling with my religious beliefs over the issue of marriage," she wrote, "I cannot think of two people more perfect for each other than the two of you." Religious and conservative, this co-worker/friend opened her arms in congratulations because she knew us and accepted us as best she could. By acknowledging the chasm of our differences she took responsibility for her different position while not letting those differences divide us.

Years ago I had a heated yet respectful conversation with one of my co-workers who felt that homosexuality was an abomination. At the end of our discussion, which many other co-workers witnessed, another co-worker came up to me and said, "How can you talk with such civility to a bigot who wants to see you dead?"

"Whether I acknowledge her or ignore her," I responded, "Her position remains the same. But if I listen to her, if I show her respect as an individual and a human being, I'm hoping that when the religious fanatics come to take me away, she'll see my face and remember that I am as much a human being as she is."

I applaud Senator Obama's speech not only because he offered an articulate and astute analysis of race in this country, but he offered something essentially human -- a space in which we can disagree and still move forward. He asked us to see him as a human being with flaws and struggles. He asked us to look into our own selves and find the similar person inside of us. We are all flawed and struggling. We are all opinionated and judgmental. But we are also human and at the core of our humanity is the ability to recognize our daily contradictions, acknowledge the contradictions of others, and still see the good in each other.

While I may disagree on some of the Senator's ideas or politics, that he is able to acknowledge this fact of life -- that we love and are loved by people with whom we do not always agree -- gives me faith that as a president he will help us move forward and not grind to a halt in the political quagmire of us versus them or red states versus blue. For too long now, we've lived in such a state of fear and disdain. It's refreshing to find a candidate who is willing to step outside that construct and inspire us to talk with each other not from a place of disagreement, but from that sometimes small patch of common ground on which we find ourselves standing.