Preaching to the Choir

Rural Democrats doing the hard things...

I spoke to about 40 rural Democrats in Cherokee County, Kansas last week. I speak across the country, sometimes to small groups, sometimes to large. Sometimes to quiet and reserved groups, sometimes to groups with a lot of fire. This Kansas group was definitely in the latter group.

They spoke of John Brown and Kansas abolitionists at the beginning of the meeting and reminded themselves of just who they are and what they’ve always fought for. They were a little rowdy and a lot of fun.

After the event, a lady told me that she followed me online and that she admired my bravery. Friends, I’m not brave…I’m scared so often, but I do the scary things anyway. I know so many of you do too, and I want to tell you that I see y’all. I see you doing the scary things too.

I travel a lot to speak around the country. I usually drive, but several times a year, I fly. Here’s something that I kept quiet about for a long time; I have an absolute crippling fear of flying. Every time I book a flight, dread overcomes me. Every time I board a flight, I know I am going to spend hours fighting my nervous system that is sending signals to my brain saying I am in imminent danger.

Yes, I know about the Jell-O analogy. I also know turbulence won’t make us crash. I know these things, but my body doesn’t.

I’ve tried everything from a strong drink to Xanax, but both of these things lead to me being foggy when I land. I have read books on flying and watched pilots talk about the mechanics and physics of flying — I can say this at least lets me know what the flaps and landing gear coming down sounds like, but it doesn’t make the panic go away.

I listen to music, I watch movies, I keep my feet off the floor to lessen the feeling of chaos. I alternate between looking out the window to looking at the flight attendants who are always so calm. These days, I just white-knuckle it knowing that my body will not cooperate while being hurled hundreds of miles an hour through the air in a metal tube. I have resigned myself to being uncomfortable for a few hours.

This is my mentality for politics too. White-knuckling it through the scary parts and knowing I will be okay afterwards…in fact, I’ll be better. I’ll have learned a few things.

Like my grandma often said when I put off things I didn’t want to do, “Quit your bellyaching and do it.”

I see others doing the difficult things too. When I decided to run, I knew I would have to leave my teaching career. Talk about hard…I had spent 6 years in college to get two degrees so that I could teach. I had spent 16 years in the classroom and was finally teaching the exact subject I had always wanted to teach. In Missouri, I couldn’t do both politics and teaching, so I resigned to do something that may impact even more people.

I love good politics and policies. I loathe getting through the mess of GOP-dominated BS to get to the result most of us are hoping for, but we have to do the hard part first. We have to be willing to show up and work and fight (and panic a little) to make change. I see so many of y’all doing that.

Whether I’m in Kansas or Iowa or Idaho or DC or Missouri, I talk to folks who are ready for change and who finally realize that the person they have been waiting for is staring back at them in the mirror every day.

The best thing about the rural meeting of Kansas Democrats? Before I stood to speak, a local Democratic County leader spoke, and I was blown away. He looked at the crowd and pointed and called out folks by name who should be running. He talked to the crowd about their attributes and why they should be running for commissioner or school board or State Legislature or State Senate. This is what we need — we need to see the value of our neighbors and tell them they could do even more to help their communities and state.

I’m not the best in the west at speaking or writing, but I’m relatable. I’m like you. And we need you.

I’ve realized that I’m speaking to a willing audience in many spaces. I’m talking to rural folks who know what we need to do, it’s just getting back that muscle memory and doing it. I’m generally speaking to the choir, but I know rural Democrats don’t need another preacher — they need a cheerleader.

If you’ve made it this far, I want to ask you to stand up and speak out. I want you to say “enough.” I want you to link arms with those in your community and do the work you are already doing…just do it in public.

We can’t win back good governance if we don’t compete.

To those of you in GOP-dominated states and to my fellow rural Democrats: I see you and you can do this. You’ve got it.

~Jess