MeanRachel.com

Can Romney Bring Sexy Back?

2012-07-09T19:01:00.000-05:00

On Friday, I was on KVUE news along with James Henson and Matt Mackowiak talking about Mitt Romney's impending vice presidential pick.

...Are you still awake?

Is there anyone more milquetoast than Mitt Romney? When the reporter asked if I'd be interested in giving my opinion on Romney potentially picking a woman for his veep, I honestly almost said no. I consider Romney a huge, wealthy, well-Botoxed non-issue. Let's face it: he's not as politically threatening to Obama as Obama is to himself. If you're considering Romney, then you were never and would never consider voting for Obama. The question is: can the GOP get enough people who happen to be Christian conservatives to go out and vote for the old Mormon guy? The Republican Party would have been better off just nominating a person whose last name is Reagan to the top of their ticket.

Nevertheless, we're humans and therefore we find ourselves once again in a frenzy over this Presidential election. You can expect the frenzy to uptick slightly if a woman gets picked as Romney's veep, just like they did when John McCain brought sexy back.

You can also expect that whichever woman is chosen will only slightly increase the numbers in which conservatives will drag themselves begrudgingly -- but with the power of the Lord's spirit! -- to the polls in November. When voting for the lesser of two supposed evils, people generally don't spend too much time deliberating over gender.

From the clip: "Mitt Romney choosing a vice presidential candidate that's a female is kind of like sending 'I'm sorry' flowers to women of America, and I think they're going to see right through it," said Democratic activist and blogger Rachel Farris.

GOTV

2012-05-29T08:57:00.003-05:00

Less than 2% of Texans have cast their ballots so far. The people who make laws are being selected by a very small few. Please get out and vote today. You can find your voting location here. And if you're voting in Travis County, please vote for Charlie Baird for District Attorney.

The Baby

2012-05-13T14:16:00.000-05:00

My mom, with a new baby.

Editor's Note: I originally wrote this as a spoken word piece for Austin's Listen to Your Mother, an event which invites local writers to talk about what they've learned from their mothers. While I didn't make it through the second round of auditions, I decided my mom might still enjoy reading it. Happy Mother's Day, mama. I didn't buy you any more things...or tofu. I love you.

“She’s my baby.”

That’s what my mom would say from the time I was a toddler, sucking my left thumb into the shape of a pancake, to when I was thirteen and wearing hot pink blush left over from a Bobbi Brown makeover -- a splurge my mother surprised me with for my fourteenth birthday. To this day, I can be walking into my mother’s office, wearing my best work blazer and J. Crew ballet flats, gazing down her office hallways with twenty eight years of hard-earned wisdom, and my mom will grab me by the elbow, drag me down the hall and say to her coworker, “You remember Rachel - she’s my baby.”

It’s not easy being the baby. My older sister was never qualified that way. But why would she? Everything about my sister evokes her status as the first child. She got the best names - Grace Elizabeth. They are special names, names whose roots run deep into both sides of our family, as if my mother - also named Elizabeth - thought there would never be another daughter to come along so she used them all up at once, like wishes from a genie bottle.

My sister’s life has always been a gentle breeze of prosperity and advancement. She shared a passion for painting with my mom, something I found to be tedious and difficult to do well, particularly when in the same room as the two of them. They were readers; I was a writer. They loved the bright lights and culture of the city; I loved the quiet calm of the country. My sister was agreeable and, I’m told, I wasn't.

But it could never be said that my mom played favorites. While she resists the classification, she was not exactly the type to dote over her children. My sister and I found her greatest failing as a mother was to not have commissioned enough professional photographs of our family. Our cousins would regularly send photos of their family members stacked like measuring cups on craggy coastal hillsides. We were lucky to send out a Christmas card every other year. But despite her lack of family spirit, my mom was the sort of person you would want to have at your side in times of crisis, like at a hospital or in a natural disaster. She asks questions that other people don’t think to ask or wouldn’t want to. She makes things happen. She imposes order.

I used to wonder if the two extra years my sister had early on with my mom were what made her so much better than me. I’d imagine the two of them lounging around, my mom peering down the bridge of her over-sized, eighties eyeglasses at my sister, reading her stories from The New Yorker and dressing her in sparkling new cotton dresses. My dad would come home from work and they would all eat spaghetti. There was no one to dispute or disturb the three them. There was simply them and my sister absorbed every minute of it all.

Until I came along, screaming and bald until two years old! They gave me an unconventional name that seemed to be an afterthought - Rachel Truair. My mother, who said I looked like Frank Sinatra, still tells the story of how humid it was the April I -- her baby -- was born. “There were fleas popping all over you when I brought you home from the hospital!” My mom still proclaims.

The role of the baby, I decided early on, was the role of the outsider. I’ve been the observer, the watcher of family relations. Mostly I focused on my sister and my mother’s relationship, which seemed to be less turbulent than the one I had always had with my mom. I felt at times I was the anthropologist, logging dates and times in my vast array of journals filled with slights and insults, victories and defeats:

August 3, 1992 – Grace got headshots for aspiring acting career but still no pony has appeared in the backyard for me.
February 10, 1995 – Got pancakes and extra cuddles on a Saturday morning while Grace was at a UIL competition.
November 3, 1998 – Mom’s spare ticket to Tosca was given to Grace. Grace got to wear mom’s pearls. Oh well, I hate the opera anyway. Dad made my favorite for dinner: fettuccine Alfredo.

Age didn’t really change the dynamic. When my sister graduated high school, she moved to Rhode Island for college. My mom would sit in my sister’s room every night watching her small, fourteen inch TV, previously reserved for my sister's obsession with episodes of Felicity and Dawson’s Creek. I didn’t understand why my mom would sit in Grace’s room instead of the living room, where there was a bigger television and more comfortable seating. It didn’t occur to me that perhaps my parents' thirty-four year marriage was falling apart, a disintegrating nest as their fledgling children pushed off on their own. I concluded the only explanation was that my mom missed her daughter, the first one, the best one. We fought a lot during those days.

My sister’s departure changed everything. When Grace came home, a celebrity was coming to visit. Our family trips to her college town were rife with disagreements and emotions, pulled by the odd dynamic of suddenly being visitors in my sister’s new life. And in the four years following my sister’s departure, as my parents separated, and subsequently divorced, I found myself uncomfortable with the realization that I was now the only daughter left. I was the only daughter there to help my mom decorate her new garage apartment, and comment on how lovely her toile bedding looked, and remark that yes, the kitchen was quite spacious for such a small living area, and sit on our old chairs in a new living room, and not ask why my dad was not there, and pretend to not notice that she didn’t seem sad at all. I wanted my old life back, the one where my sister played referee between me and my mom and my dad was the one who bought ice cream and declared "You're all beautiful!" when emotions ran high. That day still hasn’t come. In a way, I became my mom’s go-to daughter, the one whose boyfriends helped move heavy furniture for her and who could pick up her newspapers when she was out of town.

In January, my sister had her first child. I awoke to a text message photo of a round-faced, pink-lipped baby boy, squished between my sister and her husband, who had met in Rhode Island but since moved to Boston. My mom called me moments later. “Isn’t he cute?” I asked, as my mom announced she was getting on a plane and that she hoped the baby wouldn’t be born before she got there. I realized my mom had no idea he was already born. My sister had told me first.

If I still had my journals, I would have written that down.

I flew up to Boston later that day. On the plane, I wondered how my sister felt, having our mother so far away as she went into labor. I thought of the mornings we would beg my mom to cuddle with us in our beds, jumping on top of her as she would exclaim “Piles and piles of girly flesh!” We were so young but I don’t think I’d feel anything else if I were laying on a hospital bed today: the wanting, the warmth, the comfort of never having enough and having everything we needed all at once. “Just one more minute!” we’d cry as my mom would try to stand up and go back to reading the paper.

When I arrived at the hospital that evening, my mom was already there, ordering my sister’s husband around and picking up the hospital room. “My baby,” my mom exclaimed as I walked through the door. Grace smiled at me, holding her own baby, and sighed “Isn’t he the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?”

 I walked over to my sister’s bed and peered over her shoulder, staring down at the little lump of flesh she held cradled in her arms. I thought of everything he had yet to experience or know: his favorite color, where he’d go to college, which hand would he write with, whether he would have a Boston accent, or wish he was born in Texas, or have a sibling as stubborn as I was.

And then I thought of my sister, of the successes and achievements of her life, the failures and disappointments she would eventually face, the swaths of joy and happiness he would bring her, and the moments of confusion and sadness they might also share. Her journey into motherhood seemed like so much to take in, so much to embark upon without knowing the direction. Her bravery seemed worthy of all the firsts she had been awarded in life and it occurred to me that perhaps that was what being the first child was all about – building the confidence to always be the first.

Standing there next to the new mother and child, I felt no envy or wistfulness. And while I was not the youngest in the room that day, I was never more content to be the baby.

An Endorsement: On Problem Solving and Criminal Justice

2012-05-09T23:27:00.000-05:00

Where I live, you see a lot of problems. The grip of poverty and poor decision-making permeates nearly everyone who lives across from me in the Santa Rita Courts. These problems are not what most struggle with. These are ugly problems. These are illegal problems. These are evil problems. There's a mother crying on your porch, cracked out on something at 2 AM, screaming at you that she hates her six year-old son whose cut on his lip suddenly seems like it's not from a broken glass after all. There's a man knocking on your door to ask for money, or a ride to the hospital. There's a dog catcher picking up a stray dog. There's an immigrant pushing a cart full of popsicles, trailed by a little boy who keeps yelling "Ice cream!" but the raspa man just keeps pushing because he knows the little boy has no money and it's hot and there are other houses to see. There's a clean-cut thirteen year-old saving up for a pair of Nikes who somehow manages to steal things, small things, from you, thinking you won't notice. There's a family whose lives have been disrupted due to drugs and abuse and who move further and further away from you, and whose children memorize your phone numbers because the numbers--or you--are the only things they have in their life that stay the same.

These are ugly problems to wake up to.

It's easy to think that they are not your own problems. Oh, that is the easiest of them all, as if these problems are some external force, some blustery wind that swept up the other people like trash blowing down the street. You watch them blow away and you thank any God you believe in that they are not your problems, and you sweep off your curb and go inside.

That is the easiest way. But it is not the right way.

You cry with the mother and you tell her to love. You hand a dollar and give a ride and expect nothing but a fleeting moment of gratitude. You waive down the raspa man and buy the little boy a popsicle. You find a way to forgive those who truly trespass against you and you encourage another way. You go, as far as you have to, to be a constant in an otherwise shattered life. Whenever you can, you answer the phone.

You can either be a part of the solution or you can watch the suffering. You can fortress yourself with the safety of judgement, and wipe your conscience clean of any reason to get involved, or you can open your door when someone is knocking. You become vulnerable, and you will be questioned for this. But you do what you can to solve the problems and you remember, at all times, that they are your own.

This is why I am supporting Charlie Baird for the Travis County District Attorney's race. Our criminal justice system has problems. Worse yet, our criminal justice system causes problems. We do not need someone simply to manage them; we need someone who wants to have a part in solving them. Charlie Baird will work to solve the problems that lead to so much destruction within our community.

We are all blowing away. In our struggle, we catch on others, and, if we are to be good and if we are to hold on, we try to help those who we may never want to know.

What do Democrats and hot chicks have in common?

2012-04-17T18:31:00.004-05:00

They're both tired of getting hit on by old men.

At least, that's what we can infer from Democrat Paul Sadler's paltry showing in his US Senate race, according to an interview with the Texas Tribune:

"I don’t think we’ve seen a primary where there was basically no money given. And that’s basically where we are...There’s a lot of donor fatigue,” Sadler aid [sic]. "I think they’re just tired of getting hit on.”

I can't say I'm shocked, but I appreciate Sadler's attempt at feigning surprise.

Now, there's nothing wrong with old politicians who run for office.

But here in Texas, they just don't run very well. And no one, especially not hot chicks, wants to vote for them.

Unfortunately, though, lately they seem to be the only guys at the bar.

The Texas Shame Act

2012-03-15T06:00:00.000-05:00

The Texas sonogram law is having its fifteen minutes of fame in Doonesbury comic strips this week. Of course, this is causing proponents of the law a bit of anxiety as they never expected anyone but liberal, hairy-legged peace pipe players and baby killers to pay attention to the law or even hear about it.
I was asked to comment on the issue by KVUE's Mark Wiggins. It is ironic that newspapers are moving the strip to the opinion pages or offering a different series while women in Texas seeking an abortion have no alternative to undergoing this procedure.

Of course, there's always another view, as KVUE reports:

"I'm very sad that a Texas law is being made fun of in this manner, when all this is about is protecting the health of women," said Carol Everett, CEO of anti-abortion non-profit the Heidi Group. "...[W]e do not need to be putting it in the comic section, first of all, where families and children may see it, or even the editorial page. We need to give that woman the privacy that she deserves when she makes that decision, yet a fully-informed consent."

There's some flawed logic here. If all this law is about is simply "protecting the health of women," then what's the harm of it being brought up in the comic section where "families and children may see it"? If that's all this law is about, truly a plight to keep women safe, then why can't I read about it while I gulp down OJ and Cheerios? Comic strips like Zits prod at women's health and no one seems to get up in arms about that.

The difference is that the law is not about protecting women's health. It's not about giving a woman "the privacy that she deserves," as if the very basic right to privacy is something women still have to be deserving of, like a day at the spa or a pay raise. But this law isn't even about that. It's invasive, state-mandated shaming. So call it what it is: the Texas Shame Act.

Texas vs. Virginia: A Tale of Two Sonograms

2012-02-23T23:27:00.000-06:00

There's only so much crowing a Texan can take before wondering why everyone was up in arms over Virginia debating a law that Texas had already set into place. And I wasn't alone. Former Texas Observer journalist Abbey Rapoport asked this morning over at The Prospect "Where Was the Outrage Over Texas's Sonogram Law." The Texas Tribune's Emily Ramshaw also remarked at the different reactions to the law, bolstered by a Saturday Night Live skit and Virginia's battleground status.
It got me wondering if everyone just slept through the last session, so I turned to the internet in an effort to rationalize some of this with data. Below is a chart showing Google search insight over the last year. You can see that the red line, searches for "Texas sonogram," peaks somewhat during the legislative session and again when the bill was being debated in court. But the search trends and interest in the Texas Transvaginal Corridor were nowhere near as drastic as they are for Virginia's.

I decided to narrow down my focus to Texas to see what our best and brightest were really interested in during the last few months. So I threw in some other search terms that I thought might be more reflective of the general interests of everyday Texans.
Well, that was a bad idea.

If this is starting to depress you, take heart: only one in three Texans have access to and use the internet, according to a 2010 Census report. But actually, that's not very comforting either because it very well may be one of the reasons there was a considerable lack of hoo-rah surrounding the Texas Republican majority poking around in women's hoo-hahs.

We're the third lowest state in the nation in the number of individuals using the internet, beating out only Mississippi and West Virginia. Whereas nearly seventy five percent of Virginians have access to and use the internet, which is right around the national average, we're about ten points behind. There's a definite virality behind our political process these days and if more than half of all concerned citizens are not able to be a part of the process, then it's no wonder word isn't making it outside of the violet echochamber of Austin.

A few words regarding the Obama contraception compromise

2012-02-11T10:28:00.001-06:00

Obama offered a compromise yesterday that allows women who work for religious organizations to continue to receive access to contraception by requiring their health insurance providers to offer it for free. Of course that caused people to cry "Cop out!" and "Obama caved again!" all over the internet. I got a phone call from KVUE reporter Mark Wiggins asking if I'd go on camera to talk about the issue. The clip, and my thoughts on the matter, are below (transcript and video also here).

I'm not sure when "compromise" became a bad word in politics but we need to stop making it into one if we want to have any progress in our political system. If you value women's health and religious freedom, this is a win-win.

Pinterest for Politics 101

2012-02-08T21:00:00.000-06:00

Raise your hand if you've heard of Pinterest.

Chances are, if you're a woman, your hand is up right now.

Chances are, if you're a man, you are either rolling your eyes because you've heard of it and are sick of hearing about it or you are a little confused.

Pinterest has exploded onto the scene as the new up-and-comer, particularly after it was announced that Pinterest is driving more traffic to websites than Google Plus, You Tube and LinkedIn combined. I've been watching the Pinterest frenzy with some interest, as it's one of the first self-expression networks that women dominated before men even knew what was happening.

Naturally, that has caused some (male) pundits to discount Pinterest's staying power.

Regardless of where you stand on whether or not Pinterest is the Next Big Thing, there's no doubt that it's A Big Thing Right Now which means it's time for all you politicians to climb on the bandwagon, rosin up your social skills and start putting it to use. Here are a few tips to get you started.

Use Pinterest to Inspire

It's an aspirational platform. People are pinning items that they may never buy like dream homes and dream vacations because people aspire to certain things. A popular type of pin lately has been inspirational quotes and affirmations to help motivate the pinner. Nothing goes better with politics than some inspiring rhetoric, so start creating graphics with quotes from your most recent speech or press release and pin them. Compelling words and phrases grow legs when they are surrounded by beautiful imagery.

Use Pinterest to Show
One reason politicians have had so much success with Twitter is because they can give insight to their constituency as to who they really are. Love him or hate him (okay, strongly dislike him), Rick Perry has carved out a comfortable space for himself on Twitter simply by tweeting photos of his dopey Labrador named Rory and Lucy, a Dachshund - two characters I thought were his kids until I saw this picture.
There are a lot of different ways photos on Pinterest can help politicians show what they are working on or interested in. One prominent Texas State Senator, Judith Zaffirini, posts Facebook status requests for new books to read. The Senator could create a Books board and start pinning covers and titles of books she's reading or has read. Not only does this help categorize her reads, but it could add another dimension to her already popular reading list while repins from others would propel her reach.

Use Pinterest to Create

The Pinterest community loves how to's. This is an interesting movement from within a self-expression network because most networks do not compel individuals to act. Facebook event RSVPs are notoriously way higher than actual turnout. That's definitely not the case with Pinterest. People are holding "pinning parties" where they get together and make something they saw on Pinterest. A community of people wanting to get their hands dirty and do something can be an ideal demographic for campaigns and political movements -- regardless if they're all women who also like dreaming about Louboutins and J. Crew. They're just as interested in worldly matters, just maybe not in the same way as previous generations. Think DIY yard signs, how to register to vote infographics and "I voted" buttons out of recycled materials. That's change, people.

Does this mean campaigns are going to have to get a little crafty? Yes, probably so. But that's what the world today is about: innovation at the speed of technology. To anyone bemoaning the good ol' days of robocalls and push cards: keep up.

2011: A Love Story

2011-12-29T20:05:00.000-06:00

It's the time of year when I look back and reflect on this blog and the life that leads it. It was a slow year for the old weblog -- if you're still reading, you deserve an award or at least a nice paperweight as I only wrote 37 posts for the entire year. Throughout my life, my most prolific times of writing have been during times of angst and unhappiness -- my last year of high school, my first year of working full-time, the year I waited for a person in Iraq. It makes me think that the more full my life is, and the more happy I feel, the less I have to write. Maybe that means I'm saying everything that needs to be said and doing what needs to be done. Or maybe I was just plain busy. Maybe a little of both.

Regardless, 2011 had a clear theme from the start. I went to visit my sister in Boston for New Year's Eve. I arrived just days after a huge blizzard snowed-in airports and cities across New England. Had I arrived a few days earlier, the story might have been very different. But as it happened, I arrived fresh-faced and delay-free in Boston to a winter wonderland after having watched Love Story for the first time on Netflix just a week before. Our first stop after leaving the airport was a snow-covered park with only a rust-red Vizsla bounding through it.

"This looks just like Love Story!" I exclaimed and we quickly made our way to the only attraction of the park: a swingset set against red brick buildings framing a glimpse of "the Prude," as my sister called it. We appealed to the Vizsla's owner to take a photo of us on the swings and the product was immediately posted to Facebook with the caption "Love means never having to say you're sorry."

The new year opened up new possibility and new experiences, the first of which being a major decision to go to college. No matter how many times I've written "go to college," I always have to stop myself from writing "go back to college." It's weird to tell people you never went, let alone got started. College has been an experience, a discovery in which I have realized two things: 1) They were right, college is not like high school. The professors are different, the students are different and the cost of tuition and books makes me wonder how we ever expect anyone to get a college degree. 2) They were wrong, college is like high school. The bureaucracy is the same, the same incredible number of hoops through which a student must jump are the same and the process, to me, feels very much the same.

The one thing I have learned from college as a whole is a better understanding of myself and others. It falls under the category of "emotional intelligence," something that has been my blind spot for years. I didn't expect to learn how to be more understanding or more honest with myself and others. I didn't think that you could teach someone how to be more forgiving, or to consider all perspectives, or to be more patient. But you can. I feel happier, stronger and altogether more content with my increased emotional IQ and I work every day to improve it.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention at this point that college also led me to another love story. That one is about meeting a guy who doesn't like the Internet but loves helping people when they need it the most and how that led to helping a long list of people, including making five little kids' Christmas a lot brighter. I think we'll find a lot more people to help at some point or another.

Then there were the speaking engagements. I spoke to Evan Smith's LBJ school class about being a citizen in a journalist's world. I moderated an interview with Senator Kirk Watson. I delivered speeches and trainings about Democratic politics to groups across the state: McAllen, Austin (x3), San Marcos and Dallas. I delivered a presentation on the effects of social media on the pet industry in Atlanta and gave a pretty awesome email marketing presentation at Innotech eMarketing Summit. And you know what? I loved every second of it all.

The final major love story of my life this year came in the form of a building. Specifically, a building at the corner of 7th Street and Brazos in downtown Austin. After nearly 6 years of driving over 60 miles a day to and from work, and nearly 10 years if you count the 4 years I worked at the stables off of Hamilton Pool Road, I now have a short, chauffeured 1.8 mile drive to and from work every day. I'm a big believer in real estate as a window to one's soul and I have to say that my office location finally represents how I feel about my career: taking risks, making sound decisions, forging ahead when there is uncertainty and knowing that the investment is always worth it.

I have no complaints about 2011. I feel sated.

Aaron Pena's Hobby Lobby

2011-12-16T07:00:00.000-06:00

Rick Perry's newest Presidential ad -- sans Carhartt -- shows our Governor gleefully discussing one of his favorite topics. No, not mandated transvaginal sonograms. The other one, y'all.

That's right: corrupt politicians. More specifically, legislators who turn into lobbyists. Po-tay-to, po-tah-toe. Frankly, I'm surprised Perry hasn't brought this up before. There are so many of them in the Texas Capitol that they should rename the Cloakroom the Revolving Door.

But I'm truly grateful that Perry did take time out of his busy downhill campaign to talk about this because I have grown increasingly concerned about one former Democrat-turned-Republican-turned-Coward, Aaron Pena, who has been saying to practically everyone but Santa Claus how poor his time in office has made him, as if we owe him something. So I guess Pena got into politics for all the right reasons. Fame and fortune and whatnot.

Now, in light of Perry's latest ad, it seems to me that Pena's in a little bit of a bind. The Messiah of Texas Republican Politics has stuffed his own mandate up the hoo-hahs of retiring Texas legislators like Pena who might be looking to add "lobbyist" to their LinkedIn profiles.

Speaking for the professional left (read: those who, unlike Aaron Pena, have not been paid $7200 a year by the state of Texas to be a Democrat), I'd like to issue my former blog buddy a challenge:

I want Aaron Pena to vow to not enter the revolving door of lobbying now that he is no longer running for office.

It shouldn't be that hard, after all. I'm sure Pena has lots of friends down there in Edinburg who would love to hire a disloyal, weak and easily swayed former Legislator.

Go get 'em, tiger.

Devotional

2011-12-02T08:23:00.001-06:00

As a member of the Central Presbyterian Church in downtown Austin, a few weeks ago I was asked if I would be interested in writing a devotional as part of their 2011 Advent Devotional. This was a new exercise for me, but writing for an audience has always been something I enjoy doing, so I forged ahead. My assigned advent date was today, December 2nd, so I thought I would share it on my blog as well. Whether you are a religious person or not, I hope you can find something meaningful in the words. For Democrats wondering why their many prayers of forward progress often go unanswered in this state, perhaps it will help to remember that the important part is we seek progress.

Texts for Friday December 2
Morning: Ps. 102, 148
Evening: Ps. 130, 16
Amos 5:1–17
Jude 1–16
Matt. 22:1–14

Reflection:
Amos 5:1–17

“Seek Me and live”

What does it mean “to seek?” We’re all seeking something: a job, a partner, happiness. But it’s a funny little word, “seek.” Visually and audibly, it likens itself to a cousin of “see,” as if the “k” on the end simply obscures what you’re looking for. And it’s true that at first glance, “to seek” might imply that one is looking for something with the intention of finding it. But “to seek,” as defined by the Merriam-Webster dictionary, has much more subtle definitions: to resort to, to try to, to ask for, to make an attempt.

How often do we seek something and become discouraged with the lack of progress or frustrated with the answer we find? How often do we bemoan that we sought a goal or a conclusion only to find that it escaped us? How many millions wonder why, no matter how much we seek God, He doesn’t appear?

To seek God, we must seek the whole of what it is that God stands for: justice, peace, love, forgiveness, understanding. But why, with all of this seeking going on, are we still unable to achieve harmony between nations? Why do we still struggle to grant forgiveness to society's worst offenders? Why do we still persecute or banish those who we don't understand?

After all, we are seeking something, which is so very close to seeing something -- so why haven’t we seen it yet?

Therein lies the struggle with that unassuming little verb “to seek.” For we are made no promises by God that in order to live we must see anything. We are are pardoned of finding, or knowing, or achieving or owning. To live we must first make an attempt. We must resort. We must try. We must ask. In order to live, we simply must seek.

Seek good and not evil,
That you may live.

What Texas Democrats Can Learn from Aaron Pena

2011-11-25T13:10:00.001-06:00

When Aaron Pena switched to the Republican party last November, just weeks after being elected as a Democrat, the insult was palpable. Democrats in Texas had just suffered major losses across the state and the salt in the wound was a turncoat from the Valley who was more interested in saving himself than the people who elected him. There wasn't much good to come out of Aaron Pena's party switch.

But today, as word of Aaron Pena's announcement that he will not seek re-election spreads, I'd like to focus on the lessons that Texas Democrats can -- actually, make that have to -- learn from his betrayal in order to move forward:

1. If you smell a rat, there probably is one.
Aaron Pena was a half-assed Democrat but he was our half-assed Democrat. The truth is that Democrats should have removed Aaron Pena from office with a better candidate long before he had the option to switch parties or perch atop his pension. Instead, Pena was left to grow rotten, and by the time the smell got unbearable, it was too late to do anything about it.

2. One bad Democrat negates all of the good ones.
Pena's party switch helped give the Republican Party the supermajority in the house, all but insuring that only those policies authorized by God whispering in Rick Perry's ear would get passed during the last session. The argument for supporting bad Democrats is that an East Texas Democrat can't be like a West Texas Democrat, who is a little like a Travis County Democrat but he wears boots. If Democrats cannot begin to see the problem with having 254-flavors of what it means to be a Democrat, then we are no longer a Party -- we're an all-you-can-eat buffet, like the Golden Corral of political concessions. And who likes to eat at the Golden Corral?

3. It's time to lose the phrase "moderate Democrat."
Calling someone a moderate Democrat instantly defines all other Democrats as a bunch of hairy-armpit liberals who want to tax the sale of mood crystals to earn additional state revenues. A moderate Democrat is a hiding place for weakness, fear and cowardliness. Moderate Democrats switch parties, lose elections, alienate base voters and make the rest of the Democrats on the ballot look "radical" when they should look like good Democrats. From now on, we are either Democrats or Bad Democrats. We need to vote for the good ones and boot the bad ones out of office.

4. We need more fighters.
Time and time again, when the going got tough, Aaron Pena gave up. But it's not just Aaron Pena. We see examples of people unwilling to fight for things that Democrats should be fighting for all too often and make no real effort to replace them with people who are willing to fight. We saw an instance of it just last week in the SDEC's prioritization of protecting Democratic incumbents over civil rights; a decision so short-sighted that it makes one wonder what value there is in a committee that is more concerned about the state of the Democratic Party today than the state of Texas for future generations.

So, it's up to us, Texas Democrats. We can vote for good Democrats who fight or suffer bad Democrats who run. We can demand more or we can accept less. We can learn from Aaron Pena or we can keep electing people just like him.

Rick Perry Channels His Inner Miss Teen South Carolina

2011-11-10T07:30:00.000-06:00

Rick Perry went on the Today Show this morning to mop up the "Oops" he left on the national stage last night. While watching this morning's Perry permasmile, the coddling and "Let's give him another shot!" attitude of Anne Curry, I was remind how Curry handled another verbally-challenged show pony from a few years back: Miss Teen South Carolina. Maybe if the whole president thing doesn't work out, Rick Perry can start his own reality show called "Are You Smarter Than a Texas Governor." Watch, compare and share below.

Unless, of course, you forget to. Oops.

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

What a Rick Perry Presidency Would Look Like for Women

2011-08-17T18:00:00.015-05:00

Rick Perry has been Governor of Texas since before I was old enough to vote. As a native Texan born in the millennial age, I put Rick Perry in the same category as a cassette player or an AOL subscription -- something that has seemingly always been around, but has long since lost its purpose. Coming of age as a woman in Rick Perry's Texas is sort of like living in the wild, wild west, like an Annie Ovary of women's health, dodging old men wielding vaginal probes and vaccine mandates. With a governor who has a women's health record that's a bumpy country mile long possibly becoming our next President, what would it mean for women across America? Allow me.

First order of business in the Perry presidency would be the creation of the Department of Interior Contraception, or DIC. DIC would oversee approved contraceptive devices under Perry's watchful eye, the top item on the list being the most widely accepted, reliable option available to God-fearing Americans these days: abstinence. Now, while it's true Texas has the 3rd highest teen birth rate in the country and also true that a 2005 study found teens in Texas were actually having more sex after undergoing an abstinence-only program, Rick Perry still stands by the practice. Why? Not because there are actually any studies backing him up but "from my own personal life," Perry told the Texas Tribune's Evan Smith in an interview earlier this year. Comforting, isn't it? Rather than President Perry making decisions based on studies and figures, the free world will instead hinge on the regularity of his wife's cycles.

But don't take Rick Perry's word for it. Starting in 2012, women (and their partners -- suddenly that cowboy vote doesn't sound so good, does it gentlemen?) will get their very own chance to practice an abstinence-only approach when the recent law that requires health insurance companies to cover birth control will no doubt be rolled back by President Perry.

That brings us to the question of how Perry plans to punish women who don't fall into line with his tried and true abstinence methods. After all, without threat of punishment, I think it's safe to say Perry will probably be the only person in America abstaining from sex. For the sinners, Perry has already started a little pilot program right here in Texas. The state now requires mandatory transvaginal sonograms for women who are 8 to 10 weeks pregnant and seeking abortions. The bill, which Perry declared a piece of "emergency legislation" during the last legislative session, requires the doctor to describe the fetus and play audio of the heartbeat prior to the abortion procedure. President Perry's version of this bill will include an amendment to play Lee Greenwood's "God Bless the U.S.A." during the procedure.

Alas, if all of this has you feeling down, ladies, don't fret. Think of all those cute babies we'll get to have. But in Rick Perry's America, you may want to home school. Texas ranks first in the nation in adults without high school diplomas. The future also doesn't look so bright for all those precious little ones when it comes to health insurance and potential jobs: Texas boasts another first in the nation in the percentage of children without health insurance and, in 2010, Texas tied with Mississippi for the highest percentage of workers employed in minimum-wage jobs. No wonder Governor Perry wants Texas to secede. It'd sure make us look less stupid.

At a speech given to the United for Life group in June, Perry bragged about Texas's recently-passed sonogram law and told attendees, "In Texas we have pursued policies to protect unborn children whenever possible." And you can bet your left Fallopian tube that, if elected, he'll continue to do the same for the unborn children of America. I just hope there's a Plan B pill for what happens when all these children grow up -- because President Perry, just like Governor Perry, certainly doesn't plan to care for them.

After all, where Rick Perry comes from, that's women's work.

The Definition of Insanity

2011-07-29T06:55:00.005-05:00

Texas political consultant Jason Stanford carries the distinct record of having worked for not only Chris Bell but also Farouk Shami and Kinky Friedman, which is the political consultant equivalent of going nil in a game of spades. My natural inclination to doubt the opinion of anyone whose work is sold to the highest bidder has led me to disagree with Stanford before. But I'm particularly insulted by Stanford's most recent manifesto pontificating on his newest theory: Texas Democrats are way more conservative outside of Austin and that's why they're not voting for the loser candidates he's heralded in the past.

Well, hot dog! I thought it was because one of those candidates was a Houston pencil-chewer who was so boring that by the time Bill White came along, thirty people clapping for him made White look like the Obama of the south. Or because one thought "a day without Mexicans would be like a day without sunshine." Or because one could never decide whether he was a Democrat or not.

But Stanford wants us to forget all of those potential reasons for a lackluster turnout and instead focus on trying something new: "Team Blue" should be more like Republicans. Citing nameless polls and out-of-context numbers, Stanford makes an argument that the Democratic Party isn't accepting enough of "ideological diversity." Evidently Democrats in Texas are too focused on radical ideology like upholding a woman's constitutional right to choose, two individuals' right to marry and not believing in things like anchor babies. Because we heard so much of those issues during the last election -- I'm sure that's why we lost.

Stanford's latest delusions leaves me with just one question for him and, by extension, his fellow puppeteers in this state (please excuse the caps):

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

Being more like the Republican Party will not convince anyone -- Democrat or Republican -- to vote for Democrats. No doubt about it, Texas is a big state, with big beliefs and big differences. It's time for us to talk about them, not hide behind them. If you can't differentiate yourself, then what exactly are you planning on bringing to the table? "Vote for me -- I'm like the other guy!" is not a legitimate campaign message. While I may be a myopic Austinite, I know there are a lot of people out there in Texas unaccounted for when it comes to their impetus for voting (or not). The Democratic party in Texas needs to refocus and redefine what it is that makes us different from Republicans instead of constantly trying to pretend like we are the same.

We've tried that. It doesn't work. There's just more of the same down that losing road and I'm certainly not going to stand around while we back off on all of the issues that could stand to strengthen us. Accepting conservative ideology isn't the diversification of a party. It's the desertion of one.

Why I'm Not Picking Sides in Doggett Versus Castro

2011-07-16T12:44:00.000-05:00

Look, I like a good primary fight as much as the next gal. Stirring up some trouble among local establishment players is always a fun way to kill a few hours over in the comments section on Burnt Orange Report and sometimes even the best Democrat is made better by a tough primary race.

But when it comes to the impending bloodbath between the Lloyd Doggett and Joaquin Castro camps for the newly redistricted CD-35, I've decided I'm not going to have a dog in that fight. Here's why:

If Democrats spend the next six months ripping apart Doggett and Castro over stupid things like who's more progressive, the Republicans will win.

I don't mean "win" as it is used when referring to "winning a seat" or "winning an election." I mean that the Republicans will get their way. Of course the Republicans want to get rid of Doggett. Of course it would make more sense for Castro to step aside and let Doggett run unopposed. Of course Democrats will be more intrigued in eating their own than pointing their wrath and infighting toward the real issues at hand. See how that works? Bump, set, spike. Point: Republicans.

We have a lot of issues that Democrats need to flesh out for voters between now and March and, more importantly, now and November 2012. Whether or not Congressional seniority is more important than potential promise simply isn't one of them.

Democrats need to unite and rise above this primary battle. Either candidate would be a helluva lot better of a choice than if we were stuck with some Bermanesque rightwing lunatic representing the district. Let's focus on what's really important: defeating Republicans in 2012. Reelecting a President who is going to need all the help he can get. Recruiting more female candidates (Draft Dolly!) to run for office. Getting out the vote.

The Republicans are good enough at explaining why someone shouldn't vote for a Democrat. Let's not use the March primary to give them a head start.

Kingdom of Ends

2011-06-26T23:14:00.000-05:00

There's a pecan tree in my backyard that, it is estimated, is over one hundred years old. Its canopy is narrow, but its reach is tall; its branches stretch a hundred feet into the the atmosphere. When I bought my house, it was the only tree planted on my postage-stamp lot.

Someone, at some point, took the time to construct a wooden pergola under the pecan, four simple posts in the ground supporting an open latticed roof. A banana-yellow porch swing was hung from the cross beams, shaded by the branches of the pecan. Before I moved into the vacant house, I would stop by and sit on the swing, staring up toward the heavens, wondering who had nurtured this magnificent tree that, as Robert Frost once wrote "the scythe had spared."

For the last three months -- a season -- a homeless woman has lived with me. She bears the first name of my mother and her middle name is that of my sister.

When I picked her up at the Salvation Army, a World War II veteran was there with his wife, stooped over the hatchback of a station wagon, unloading box after box of food. He pushed a flier about God into my hand and told me the words had sustained him throughout his battles. I looked at the people milling around the alley and, momentarily, saw the war he had chosen to now fight. I took the one I could carry from the battlefield, but I'm now afraid the effort was in vain. I wish I'd kept that flier.

She's from Midland. That makes really very little difference in this story except to say that she had, at one point, what I think was a chance. Now, at fifty six years old, she will return to homelessness in time to celebrate her fifty seventh birthday in two weeks. Job interviews, job fairs, jobs programs and, it seems, praying have all left these questions unanswered:

Who gets spared by the scythe? Why do some leap toward the sky in the full glory of life while others find themselves continuously cut down?

Nelson Henderson said "The true meaning of life is to plant trees under whose shade you do not expect to sit." It sounds nice but in practice is difficult to do. It requires patience and -- this is more difficult -- faith. I'm not talking about the kind of closed-eyes faith in God in which you stare at your eyelids trying to see something there. I mean faith in believing that what you do see will someday be better. Faith in knowing that we must do things -- plant trees, help others, give ourselves -- without any expectation of enjoying the end result.

What trees are we planting in Texas? I fear none at all. We have selfish leaders making selfish legislation based on selfish desires. We shroud all of this with rhetoric like "government spending" and demand the lesser few be "cut off," while expecting the system to continue to service our own selfish needs. If Rick Perry wants a Response to his doubts of the future of our nation, here's one for him: You reap what you sow.

For my part, I've planted a ten foot elm in the back that is dwarfed by the great pecan. A hundred years from now, when I am dust or a breeze or a ray of sunlight catching, I hope the person who sits under the elm has faith and finds themselves living in a state that invests in its people instead of cutting them down.

For there is hope of a tree, If it be cut down, that it will sprout again, And that the tender branch thereof will not cease.
Job 14:7

The Blind Response

2011-06-07T23:26:00.001-05:00

I didn't buy it when Rick Perry pretended to shoot a coyote during the last gubernatorial campaign and I'm having a hard time believing that Rick Perry pretending to care about the nation's problems by hosting a national day of prayer is actually going to convince any of the 4.3 million Texans who live in poverty that he does. As for fasting, Rick Perry starving himself for a day isn't going to trick those in this state who go hungry for weeks on end into thinking they are full.

Wrapping up both of these ideas into a fancy website littered with platitudes isn't going to fool God, either.

We're all friends here so I'm going to let you in on a little secret: Praying is easy. A person can feign concern, close their eyes and raise their hands upward toward the heavens all without having to fix their hair.

In other words, praying is perfect for Perry.

What's not easy, and what requires a little more hair gel than quoting passages from Joel, is actual work.

Work is being homeless.

Work is walking to a bus stop every day in the 100-degree heat.

Work is teaching yourself what public schools failed to teach you.

Work is losing a job.

Work is looking for a job.

Work is waiting for food stamps.

Work is having pain but not having the resources to make it go away.

Rick Perry's right on one thing: Texas can do better. But to be better, we're going to have to work at it. Work is not closing your eyes and praying for those you don't want to see.

It is opening your eyes and helping those you can.

Two Things That Are Completely Not Related

2011-05-31T18:23:00.004-05:00

Just like Sarah Palin mentioning Rick Perry's Presidential run is a coincidence, right? Right?

March 25, 2011
WINK.

May 31, 2011
WINK.

Update: This quote, via the Statesman, is worth a look:

Steve Bercu, owner of BookPeople in Austin, said it appears Perry has "chosen to favor an out-of-state retailer over the thousands of us here who employ millions of Texans. If that's his idea of being business-friendly, it doesn't strike me as being especially friendly to Texas businesses."

H/T Mack Simpson.

Size Matters?

2011-05-19T17:45:00.002-05:00

Noodling. I’ve lived in Texas all my life and can say with certainty, and a small sense of pride, that before today I was unfamiliar with the act. Luckily Texas has an amazing education system called the Texas Legislature, which offers ample opportunity to broach important subjects such as transvaginal sonograms, helicopter hog hunting and, today, noodling, as the Texas Senate debated and passed a bill carried by Republican Bob Deuell to make noodling a legal activity in the state of Texas.

Noodling, according to Wikipedia, is “fishing for catfish using only bare hands.” Other words for noodling from the Redneck Thesaurus of Bad Ideas include “stumping,” “grabbling,” “tickling” and the equal-opportunity “catfisting.” Wikipedia, in all its simplistic glory, notes “noodling can be dangerous, particularly if something other than a catfish is in the hole.” Intrepid noodlers have been known to lose fingers to snapping turtles and other creatures that lurk inside these glory holes, just waiting for some of Texas’s God-fearing, red-blooded finest – otherwise known as Republican primary voters – to poke their chubby paws in them. This brings me to the one question no one in the Texas Senate dared to ask: given the potential danger to an individual’s health, why not require sonograms for these holes?

Meanwhile, as budget negotiations fall apart and a hundred thousand teachers face layoffs across the state, a bill sponsored by another Republican, Senator Glenn Hegar, awaits being signed into law by Future President Rick Perry that would make lying about the size of a fish illegal in Texas. Objectors no doubt were concerned that this bill might encroach on their First Amendment right to lie about the size of other things.

With just a few weeks until the end of the 82nd Session, the Republican supermajority in Texas, with its run of the granite playground since January, has got to be feeling pretty proud of themselves. It’s now legal to noodle without protection but it’s illegal to lie about the size of it. If voters were expecting a new legislative body concerned with jobs, education and economic security when they voted in their Republican officeholders six months ago, they’re about to find out just how flaccid this supermajority’s policymaking has really been.

Perhaps, for voters, this will be a lesson learned. From fishing to the Texas legislature, it’s not the size of your noodle but how you use it.

And, yes, that’s what she said.

Somewhere Very Near: Thoughts on "Ann: An Affectionate Portrait of Ann Richards"

2011-05-07T01:46:00.000-05:00

Texans -- specifically, female Texans -- have a whole lot of work to do.

That was all I could think tonight as I watched Holland Taylor portray Ann Richards in her production of "Ann: An Affectionate Portrait of Ann Richards."

It'd be a hell of a lot easier to go on without her if she hadn't been so damn unique. In the nearly three hour, one-woman play, Taylor weaves a lifetime of Ann Richards into a hilarious, introspective history of a woman who was "strong as mustard gas." The opening scene envisions Richards giving a modern-day commencement address at a fictional college, speaking of her early years. Taylor sets Richards's tone using long, drawn out syllables, and portrays Richards as a woman trying to equally please her doting father, who never failed to tell her she was smart, and a hardened mother who "viewed her with a narrow eye." While it becomes clear that Richards's good ol' boy comfort was developed through early acceptance and empowerment by her father, Richards's mother seems to have played an equally important -- albeit less-sunny -- role in building a woman with a backbone who, when necessary, could wring a chicken's (or staffer's) neck.

Taylor introduces us to a moment that shaped Richards's life when her father was called into the Navy and her mother packed the family up to move to California. It was the first time Richards, at age eleven, attended a school that was desegregated and this became her first awareness of inequities. While unafraid to "hit the gas" and steer headlong toward any sort of challenge, near the end of the play Richards takes one moment to glance behind her as she ponders her core motivation for having run for Governor: "Life is not fair. I learned that when I was eleven years old. Life is not fair. But government should be."

The play spends a good portion of time sorting through two of Ann's greatest struggles: overcoming alcoholism ("I was the poster child for functioning alcoholics -- I was functioning everywhere!") and the end of her marriage to her husband, civil rights attorney Dave Richards. But where it really hits its stride is in her lead-up to her long-shot race for Governor. Likening politics to a racetrack, Richards muses, "I never did see myself as the horse. And no one else was throwing a saddle on me, either."

Yet, someone did. "A woman? A divorced woman? A ten-year sober alcoholic woman? In macho-conservative Texas?" Richards asks almost incredulously of herself. And, based on the string of horses Texas Democrats have bet on since, it is incredulous that anyone ever did throw a saddle on her, let alone put her in the starting gate.

Much like real life, the years Ann was in the Governor's office pass by beautifully and almost too quickly. This is really when Taylor is in her element portraying Ann, taking off her heels and dragging a phone around the office. Richards is signing off on paperwork hurriedly, all while taking calls from Bill Clinton, planning a family fishing trip, getting ready for a campaign stop in El Paso and trying to decide whether to grant a stay of execution. She gives an off-the-cuff quote to a pro-choice documentarian ("Tsk, tsk, tsk, we're going to make you have more children you can't afford.") and, in one particularly touching moment, asks her assistant to track down the name of a woman she met in Brownsville whose son is growing up in a home without electricity or water. "This one's gonna make it," Richards says, while scheduling the little boy to come to children's day at the Governor's mansion with all of the other "fat Capitol brats." "We're gonna put an arm around his shoulders."

In the final moments, Richards speaks a few lines from the famous poem "Death is Nothing at All" by Henry Scott Holland. She had asked her press secretary to hang onto it in case she ever needed it for a speech at a funeral someday -- "I never figured it would be my own."

Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same that it ever was. There is absolute unbroken continuity. Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you. For an interval. Somewhere. Very near.

Richards says at one point in the production, "Work is the best antidote for fear." Women in Texas have plenty to fear, which means we have twice as much work left to do. It can be too easy to get dragged down in mourning the loss of one of the greatest women our state has ever known. But there is something comforting about the notion that we have not lost anything. "It is the same that it ever was." In Ann's absence, we still have reason to continue to push forward, to "hit the gas" in our "absolute unbroken continuity" of what she fought her whole life to achieve: equality, fairness and putting our arms around the shoulders of those who need it the most.

So I'll continue to work, and I'll do so taking comfort that she is somewhere very near.

Head Shot

2011-05-02T18:34:00.000-05:00

Osama bin Laden

March 10, 1957 – May 2, 2011

Odd, isn't it, to celebrate a game in which the score is kept by bodies.

Forgive us, for we know not of what it means to kill or be killed.

Or to be crushed by a building, or the weight of the memory of a bullet through skin.

Or how an ocean can infinitely hide something we for so long sought to find.

Or why justice sometimes finds itself swept up against the tide.

Forgive us, for we are really celebrating nothing at all; we are burying a painful memory in a vast, open sea.

Would Aaron Pena Pass TAKS?

2011-04-29T22:02:00.000-05:00

Aaron Pena likes to talk a lot about the "professional left" (definition: people like me who don't get paid to work in politics, not people like him who do get paid) and our "intellectual slumber." I gotta say, I have a hard time taking advice on intellect from someone who, between tweeting about testicles and switching parties, seems to not know the difference between "it's/its" and "your/you're." So I got to wondering: Would Aaron Pena pass the standardized TAKS test?

I've collected just a few of his Twitter gems below. You be the judge and let me know either on Twitter or in the comments section below.

Would Aaron Pena Pass TAKS? Rachel Farris Apr 30, 2011 at 2:48 AM With this kind of grammar, I'm thinking no.
Powered by Keepstream

	AaronPena Aaron Peña We are moving on to the third reading of #HB150, the Solomon's map on #redistricting the #Texas House of Representatives. #txlege
	Rachel Farris Interesting use of an apostrophe in the middle of someone's name.
	Apr 28, 2011 at 7:53 PM

	AaronPena Aaron Peña Rio Grande Guardian recent personal attacks call into question it's journalistic standards and ethics. #rgv
	Rachel Farris Hm, journalistic standards are apparently tricky for Pena as well.
	Apr 27, 2011 at 9:51 PM

	AaronPena Aaron Peña @WalkerATX @MeanRachel Just trying to engage the left out of it's intellectual slumber. To the contrary I very much like the Meanie.
	Rachel Farris Perhaps you shouldn't comment on "intellectual slumber" when you seem to be intellectually sleepwalking.
	Apr 22, 2011 at 1:34 AM

	AaronPena Aaron Peña The Texas House of Representatives wraps up it's work for the day. We start tomorrow at 10 a.m. Onward to committee. #txlege
	Rachel Farris Yeah, it's/its is clearly an issue for you.
	Apr 19, 2011 at 10:44 PM

	AaronPena Aaron Peña Attempts to compel MALDEF to change it's opinion that Rep. Solomon's map did not violate the Voting Rights Act in Hidalgo County failed #rgv
	Rachel Farris Oh look, more.
	Apr 18, 2011 at 1:38 AM

	AaronPena Aaron Peña Friday is the bill filing deadline, if your not from the dist. pass us by if you want us to file your late bills.http://tinyurl.com/4ayoltj
	A CAPITOL BLOG: If You're Not From The District ... Friday is the bill filing deadline, if you're not from the district, pass us by if you want us to file your late bills.
	Rachel Farris If "your" from the district and would fail TAKS, raise your hand.
	Mar 9, 2011 at 8:00 PM

Report on Hidalgo County

2011-04-19T00:12:00.002-05:00

Hidalgo County Democratic Party

Update: Does this make you angry?

Dear Aaron Pena from anthony gutierrez on Vimeo.

"Angry people vote."

Those are Paul Burka's words, writing at TexasMonthly.com this week about the potential Democratic candidate for Senate, General Ricardo Sanchez, and how the Latino population would -- or would not -- react to his candidacy.

It was timely that whispers of Sanchez, a Rio Grande City native, began floating around in the days before I made my way to Hidalgo County, where I was invited by the Hidalgo County Democratic Party Chair Dolly Elizondo-Garcia to speak at their County Executive Committee meeting. This trip down to the Valley was to be my first time in the area, outside of the occasional trip to Laredo.

As I drove through Edinburg, I couldn't get past the burn of what that city had become to me: the home of State Representative Aaron Pena, who saw many of the same problems I see in my state party and yet rather than stay and fight to improve our cause, chose to abandon it. Dusty, yellowed and barren, Edinburg looked like what the rest of the Rio Grande Valley looked like to me during my short time there: poor.

My presentation took place at the International Trade and Technology building at UTPA. Dolly had a large spread of breakfast tacos and coffee ready for guests, and a sign-in table was being worked by Hidalgo County Young Democrats wearing matching HCDP t-shirts. For 10 AM on a Saturday morning, the event was surprisingly well-organized and I realized that Dolly -- or perhaps all of Hidalgo County -- has grown used to the rest of the state underestimating them.

In the meantime, they've continued organizing. Unthreatened and open to new ideas, Dolly has catapulted several strong talents in her area into leadership positions. Eli Olivarez, an immaculate, quick-witted man who founded a chapter of the Stonewall Democrats in Hidalgo County, was encouraged by Dolly to run for the SDEC position in District 20.

Eli credits Dolly for the unity that the Hidalgo County Democrats now reflect. A symbol of this unity can be seen on their "passport" page, a landing page showing four online portals to the many faces of Hidalgo County Democrats. The passport page, which features updates from the local Stonewall Democrats, the Young Democrats, the Democratic Women and the county party itself, implies that everyone isn't the same in Hidalgo County but they all believe in a common vision.

During most of the meeting, an image of Aaron Pena laughing with his Republican cronies was displayed on the big screen at the front of the room, captioned with the words "There's nothing funny about these cuts." At one point in the program, Hidalgo County Commissioner Joel Quintanilla addressed the crowd and, pointing at Aaron Pena's image, said, "Look at this photo and tell me what you see." Spanish curse words were thrown out and someone from the audience said "Judas."

There's a perfect storm brewing in Hidalgo County and it's one that the Republicans have every reason to be afraid of. There's a large population with an intimate knowledge of just how bad the Republican Party can treat its poor, its elderly and its children. There's leadership unlike any I've seen in the Democratic Party since I've been active within it, and I'm confident saying that in Dolly Elizondo-Garcia, I've found my heroine.

But perhaps the final missing piece that could springboard action from Hidalgo County to the rest of the state is anger. The feeling in that room when the subject of Aaron Pena came up wasn't the feeling of a meeting but a revolution.

In questioning whether Latinos in Texas will ever turn out to vote like those in California and Arizona, Paul Burka goes on to write, "Hispanics in Texas are not alienated." Well, thanks to Aaron Pena, they're alienated now and they're angry. The future of the Democratic Party lies in Hidalgo County. They know it, they're uniquely poised to take over and, given the people I met down there this weekend, I don't see how they couldn't.