Party politicsUS elections 2008: The Democratic nomination contest has turned innocent social conversation into a political minefield
Lucy Carrigan
April 17, 2008 8:00 PM | Printable version
I'm in a bit of a pickle.
I am sitting in a chair in front of a mirror at a swanky hairdresser's salon in New York City having a (heated) discussion with my hairdresser while he is cutting my hair. And no, it is not over whether or not Britney Spears should keep her children or how much impact Angelina Jolie really has in the developing world.
We are not arguing about the frivolous at all. We're arguing about the Democratic nomination for president. He supports Hillary Clinton. I support Barack Obama. He is upset. I am blushing. He says the media has been inexcusably biased against Hillary Clinton. I say she asked for it. He says that he doesn't understand how Barack Obama could have stuck with his pastor for 20 years. I say that all we are seeing is one loop of video, 30 years of a man's life condensed into seconds. I suggest that he check out Barack Obama's speech on race. He says that's just damage control.
And the damage is done. I think myself and my hairdresser have come to a parting of the ways that has nothing to do with how he parts my hair.
For as long as I can remember, I've always been warned not to talk politics in polite conversation. But, in this prolonged primary season, adhering to that rule is difficult indeed. And, because the Democratic primary has become personal to so many voters (a recent Gallup poll found that 28% of Hillary supporters would vote for John McCain if Barack Obama is the nominee), conversations often reflect the heated nature of the campaigns themselves. Perhaps because of this, I've noticed of late, a certain chicken-like quality to the way discussions about the Democratic primary unfold. Conversations become a dance of innuendo and ambiguity, neither side wanting to show their cards before the other has laid his or her cards clearly on the table.
For example: at an art opening in New York City. A friend greets me, delighted to see me ("It's been so long,") and we talk about this and that, ("How's the freelance life treating you?"), but, as is typical these days, we end up talking about the Democratic nomination.
"Did you hear that Nancy Pelosi said that Hillary should drop out of the race?" she asks.
I answer her carefully - I can't quite tell if she thinks Pelosi would be the anti-Christ for such a suggestion.
"No," I say, "I haven't heard that."
"A friend of mine told me she had," she says, "but I haven't been able to verify it."
"No," I say, "I haven't heard anything about that."
"It's just been so stressful," she continues.
This woman is like a blank canvas. There is absolutely no way I can tell, neither from the tone of her voice nor her facial expression, whether she supports Barack or Hillary. I feel a certain panic rise inside, the panic of one who doesn't want to get into a disagreement with a person she doesn't know particularly well, but likes all the same. I don't know that I even want to know who she supports. I am grimacing inside. This could all go horribly wrong.
I try to change the subject.
She asks me what I'm doing this weekend.
I think, "Oh crumbs, she had to ask that question..." and I blurt it out: "I'm heading to Pennsylvania, actually, to volunteer for Barack Obama."
I wait, gripping my wine glass, peanuts sweating in my hand.
"Are you?" she asks, giving absolutely nothing away.
I hold my breath, baited, I don't want an argument. Her friend interjects. "That's great," he says, "thanks so much for doing that." ......(more)
The complete piece is at:
http://commentisfree.guardian.co.uk/lucy_carrigan/2008/04/party_politics.html