A Confession of Optimism

I am very thankful to my parents for the way that they raised my sister and me. There has always been a strong sense of neutrality. Not in the sense of never backing any side of an argument, but in the sense of being impartial and evaluating the situation before forming an opinion about something. It has led to complicated, if interesting, scenarios when friends and I have fought—I do my best to avoid taking a stance against the person mad at me. This just seems to frustrate the other party and makes me sound smarmy as I describe it now, but I believe it is the right thing to do if you can appropriately distance your emotions in order to make a rational decision.

Because of this, there is a sort of centrist streak running through my family. Religiously speaking, I was taught to revere the Dalai Lama as much as the Pope and to shun fundamentalism. Politics were also subject to this; my parents never shared with us who they voted for. They will discuss who they plan on voting for now that both my sister and I are of age, but they showed no desire to imprint their political beliefs on us the way so many people seem to do. (We were indoctrinated, but with views that are more flexible, in my opinion.) Whenever I can glean something about their beliefs, it reinforces the idea of choosing sides based on their merits instead of voting straight ticket; my father is a registered Democrat, but Reagan was his favorite president.

But there is more to this post than bragging about Mom and Dad. The centrism is alive and well whenever we talk about the upcoming election. My whole family, it seems, has adopted the strategy of voting for neither Obama nor Romney, citing problems with both. As with the previous election, I agree with them that there are problems with both (though I think neither would run the country into the ground, Bush-style). But every time my sister extols the merits of the Green Party, there is a part of me that shrinks as I remember my true feelings.

I like Obama.

There. I wrote it.

I have yet to admit this to my family, for fear of deviating from the consensus they have come to. Even with an intentionally-open belief system, there is a set of norms to which one must adhere.

I certainly have my issues with the President. The bill he signed “with reservations” bugs me, for example. But when I learned a friend was involved with the Obama campaign, I actually had a slight desire to do something myself.

I missed my chance during the “hopey changey” era. I lost my absentee ballot, so I did not vote. But even then, despite professing that both Obama and McCain were worthy contenders, I clandestinely harbored Obama sympathies.

I know that supporting a candidate in an election is not something to be ashamed of, but still I worry. I have found myself increasingly to be a liberal democrat over the years, and I just do not want to be one of those people that are part of the partisan train wreck that is most of our politics. And yet I drift to the left (or maybe I have always been there—I am a bit of a Socialist at heart).

I know who I am voting for this November. I just hope it is for the right reasons.

If he's good enough for her, he's good enough for me.