A Letter to Obama

President Barack H. Obama:

A few years ago, I watched you speak after the Iowa Caucus, and said that night that you'd be our next president. A few weeks later, I snuck into an overflow room at American University, amongst a bunch of your disciples, and watched you awe the crowd after Ted Kennedy endorsed you.

My roommate, a press secretary for a Republican Senator at the time, was reading a book called Words That Work: It's Not What You Say, It's What People Hear by Frank Luntz. Have you seen it? Have you read it? Whether or not you have, I have to admit you are brilliant in giving the book's thesis legs. At least you were during the campaign. I respect and admire the way you used words during your campaign, the way you sold your vision, the same way I respect and admire Mark Zuckerberg's creation of Facebook. There is something alluring about people who master a craft. Whether you like it or not, I feel the same way about Karl Rove's ability to organize and strategize to win elections. I also see a similar brilliance in Sarah Palin. Rather than building executive experience, she is doing, in a sense, what you did: building her name, giving charismatic speeches, in pursuit of becoming the next U.S. president. Maybe she'll never be president, but she is on to something about what it takes to develop the popularity to become president. That said, there's also something really troubling about your brilliance with words, Zuckerberg's success with Facebook, Rove's success in winning elections, and Sarah Palin's iconic approach to becoming the next president. As in, while all fours' methods demonstrate a nuanced understanding of human behavior, I sense manipulation. But I'll get to that.

But first, I am a political independent. I was raised in small-town, Indiana by Christian and (mostly) Republican parents. Admittedly, my mother often had Rush Limbaugh playing in the house, which I found to be mostly entertaining and sometimes thought-provoking. (Like you, he is flawed but not stupid.) My own commitments to the Republican party died during college, when I began intellectually dissecting some of the inconsistencies of the modern GOP, particularly with some of is "pro-life views" (I'm bothered by its complicity with and embracing of capital punishment and war) and also the the stark difference between their--like the Democrats'--rhetoric about fiscal responsibility and small government contrasted with the pork that continues to be pushed through Congress, as the bureaucracy expands exponentially with every administration. I cannot help but connect our government's no longer taking seriously the idea of spending less or equal to the amount it has with our citizens' and families' racking up credit card bills to pile up more toys. Neither strikes me as healthy.

I'm equally troubled with the Democrats, who seem to think it is noble to spend other people's money and who demonize people who call that into question. Not to mention a party that criticizes wars when they're out of power, and then increase the wars while they're in power (I'm not only referring to Iraq and Afghanistan; look back at Vietnam). A party that's afraid to criticize the horrors of abortion, and who pretend that sticking scissors through a fetus's skull (or pick your other method of choice) equals or is necessary for the empowerment for women.

Truthfully, I did not vote for you, Mr. Obama, the first time. Nor did I vote for Senator John McCain, or even for Ron Paul, to whom I was most drawn, despite the media's refusal to give him credence as a candidate. (Some of my educated friends told me I did not appreciate and respect our civic responsibilities, but it was actually a mix-up in registration--rather than my intention--that caused me not to vote.)

All that said, I found myself, like the many others who elected you, somewhat drawn to your rhetoric, though also quite a bit skeptical of it. I heard you say things about cutting poverty in half. About transcending partisan politics. About withdrawing from Iraq on a six-month time-table. About exchanges of college loans for a time period of public service. Those were attractive and lofty intentions. (But how many of those have been realized two years into your presidency? Was it realistic to suggest that they could have been? Perhaps what I would prefer from a presidential candidate is a lecture about the limitations of his office and our political system before he or she starts telling me what he or she will do upon election.) But mostly, I heard you speak a lot about hope and change, the catchy slogans--if not exactly historically original--that won you leadership in the most prestigious and weighty office in the United States.

This is where Luntz's work comes in. Not what you say, but what people hear. I was working as a teacher in the inner city--for the Teach For America you shouted out--during your campaign and your first year-and-a half in office. I was surrounded by African American people, loving and brilliant people in many cases, but some of which were tragically poor, uneducated, and dependent upon government entitlements. I heard them say things about you that troubled me. One lady said when you were president, she was "going to be rich!" One student said when you were president, there would be no FCAT. These are just a few examples. I wondered: with all the promises given during your campaign, coupled with the attention given to you being the first black American president, what would my fellow teachers, parents, and students think of you after your term(s) as president? What would happen to all the "hope" they put into you? More disappointment? Feelings of betrayal? More hatred and scapegoating toward the Republicans? Would it all just disappear with history? Or would any of the hope be realized? Could it be; was the degree to which they hoped in and for you even possible? And most troubling, do you even care about the affects of your words?

I'd like to think you do, but when I saw your reaction to the vulnerability of an African American woman who told you she was "exhausted" of defending you, and wanted to know if "this was our new reality?" I couldn't tell if you took her seriously, or if you just didn't know what to say, or if you couldn't believe a black woman would really begin to question you as president. (Sometimes you act like you're shocked at the people aren't still bowing before you and granting you every wish). That day, you laughed at her, and then answered the question cheaply, no teleprompter to help on that one. Could it be that you viewed her the same way as you viewed the poor, uneducated Pennsylvania people who needed to hang on to religion just to make it through in life? Is there an elitism from your Ivy League days that's more alive than even you thought?

My dad thinks you are a Muslim, which I think is crazy, and I've told him so. It was quite strategic of you to hang with the Jim Wallis crowd in order to garner enough of the left-leaning Evangelic crowd, and I thought your speech about race in the aftermath of the Reverend Wright debacle was brilliant and seemingly sincere. My concern about your religion, though, is not about your degree of devotion (that's none of my business and nor does it really affect your ability to lead us) or the extremity of your pastor (we've probably all hung with questionable influences at various points in our lives), but your understanding of human nature. You claim to be Christian, and a central understanding of Christian theology is that men (and women) are victim to a fallen nature, one that bends toward evil and selfishness, and that cannot be redeemed but through submission to the God who created us. Perhaps your religion is only a political facade, but you strike me as too comfortable talking about it for that to be the case. But do you believe that humanity is fallen? If so, that certainly wouldn't mean no good can be done, but does it really make sense that we could cut poverty in half during an eight-year time span after more than two hundred years of working our way into that poverty? That we could transcend the type of partisanship that nearly ended the intimate friendship of two of our best patriots, Thomas Jefferson and John Adams?

So I guess where I am is in a stage of wondering whether you intentionally deceived the American people to get elected--certainly not without precedent in our history--or whether your worldview is simply less Christian, i.e. believing humans are good, than you think it is. I am not suggesting that you are stupid or naive. Your pedigree is impressive and you have lived much longer in this world than I have. That is why this is so confusing to me.

A couple years in, your hope and change has become, is becoming, and at times has been rejected from becoming policy. It turns out that while you succeeded in getting your healthcare bill through, it is not all that popular, no matter how much you spit your humanitarian spin. I don't really blame you for this, but apparently abandoning Afghanistan and Iraq was more difficult than you thought it would be once the intelligence was sliding across your desk and the briefings with generals started taking place. Apparently people, rich or not, do not exactly want their taxes cut, even if you tell them what a good cause all the money is going to. Partisanship is still very alive, though you did finally work with Republicans on a piece of legislation, which was respectable.

I guess I'm still asking, who is this man? I don't think your as bad as the right portrays you (pretty sure you're not "an anti-christ") or as good as the left wants you to be. I love that you can hoop with the ESPN guys, but I really don't care for your policies. When I disagree with you, it's not because I'm stupid or because I hate you or because I'm a racist bigot, but because I really don't think we should spend what we don't have and because I think real solutions are usually local ones, not centralized ones (there are plenty of good thinkers who have thought that historically--Jefferson being one of the best examples). I don't think you'll save this country, nor do I think you have ruined it. I think you're as divisive as the second Bush was, but it takes a rare president (Has there really been one since George Washington? Approval ratings are fickle, but how much did the south like Abraham Lincoln? How popular was Ronald Reagon with liberal Democrats? Even Bill Clinton had his haters.) to supersede the divisiveness of this country. Also like Bush, I think you'll be deeply relieved the day your presidency officially ends. And when you leave, Americans will be as broken and desperate as they were when you took office, even those who think we are better or worse off. It's not an indictment on you; it's an indication of the human condition. Put simply, you are a participant in history, which is so much bigger and flowing than even the best individuals.

You have a lot of work to do to get my vote in 2012. But if you want a place to start, work with Congress to balance the budget without usurping more money away from citizens.

Sincerely,
Chris Schumerth

The Difference Between Thriving and Surviving

We often use the word and metaphor "season" not just in regards to weather, but also to our lives. The reason we use it is to hint at the changes in our lives. For me, I often look back and categorize according to the place in which I lived during various "seasons." Culver, Anderson, D.C, Jacksonville. And now, Anderson again. A year ago, if you would have told me that I'd be living in Anderson again after TFA, I would have thought you were crazy. And yet, some combination of circumstance and choice, chance and decision, has brought me back.

The commitments I'm currently living into are a more intentional relationship with the Mercy House, which is my church, spending time with a sister who's finishing up her undergraduate studies, a men's discipleship group led by my mentor, a job coaching basketball at Guerin Catholic, an internship-type job in city planning for Madison County, and graduate school applications. This season--before full-time employment--started slowly, and allowed for some much-need rest after TFA. But for financial, interest, and relational interest, things quickly picked up to a pretty frantic pace, a pace that will continue until every last application has been sent off, probably some time at the end of January.

Though the seasons of our lives are not easily categorized, I sometimes think about them in terms of thriving verses surviving. Beneath surviving, perhaps, is also despair. Hopefully, I mostly avoid despair, but I think I live much of my life--too much--in the survival range. Doing too much, not resting enough (working through Sabbaths), scrapping to pay bills, traveling to escape. For me, surviving is also identifiable by my rare shaving, driving too much, scavenger eating, throwing things away that should be recycled or composted. Buying things for convenience's sake. Feeling physically sick.

I think I have only glimpsed what it is like to thrive in this world. To thrive does not (or should not) mean to avoid tension, tragedy, or pain; those are all inevitable. But when we thrive, we enjoy our work and find it meaningful, we rest in order to sustain ourselves, we are emotionally connected. We walk to destinations. We both give and take relationally. We take care of our bodies, our minds, and our souls. We have time for our hobbies. Life is less frantic.

In this crazy culture of ours, I still have not given up on the possibility of thriving for a lifetime. It is possible but difficult.

Politicized Economic Speak and the Implications of Better Alternatives

This week's legislative compromise--temporary extension of Bush tax cuts for temporary extension of unemployment benefits--signified something the media seems to have missed. I'm not sure how to categorize it exactly, but it is something like the culmination of entitlement. What do I mean?

As is often the case during any political compromise, some of the base on the left is decrying President Obama's signature on the bill as betrayal, while some on the right are furious that the right would work with the left and allow the extension of benefits. I do not wish to jump on either of those bandwagons.

What I am concerned with is the something that did not make it into the compromise. In fact, you won't really find it on the agenda, anywhere, though some talk about it out loud because it makes them feel better.

The tax decrease doesn't bother me. In layman's terms, a tax decrease is simply allowing the common people, rich or not, to keep the money they earned (hopefully) at work, rather than giving it over to a government that may or may not care about their interests.

Let me also say this: I know the government needs to have a budget. They need to collect revenue somehow. I accept that the government--at least city or state--probably needs to be involved in the making and maintaining of roads and other transportation systems. I realize a few select legislaters deserve a salary. Perhaps the government should even have discretionary funds in order to make the Louisiana Purchases of history. Perhaps they even need to be involved in a school system (though that is more debatable).

But this is where my concern comes in. If you've heard the critics from the left lately, you've almost certainly heard huge numbers--in the millions or billions--spouted off as the "cost" of extending the tax cuts. A disgusted colleague at work even referred to them as "spending" such and such amount. If you think about it, there is a problem with this language. How can something "cost" you when you didn't have it in the first place? How can someone "spend" something that is someone else's? That's where entitlement comes into play. The reason our government views a tax cut as a cost (or even spending) is because it has continued to increase throughout our history--especially since the New Deal--in bureaucracy, budget, and its sheer amount of programs.

The government has three options, really. Our government can continue to increase its spending as it increases its tax revenues. That may or may not lead to a balanced budget. This approach is clearly preferred by the contemporary Democratic Party. We can continue to increase our spending as we decrease taxes. That method is preferred by most modern Republicans, and most certainly will not lead to a balanced budget.

But there is a third option, which apparently neither political party takes seriously (even though it is, ironically, the best option). The government could, of course, cut both spending and taxes. Why won't it happen? Because it would require short-term sacrifice. Jobs would be lost, programs ended. In today's political environment, one can hardly mention this without being called a racist, a bigot, or a hater of the poor, though advocacy in this area means none of the three. I sat in a Jacksonville budget meeting last year that was opened to the public, and almost all the community members present just kept talking about how "the children" were going to suffer if certain cuts were made.

Where money does not exist, jobs and money should be cut. I can already hear the hysterics: "But what about the safety nets? What am I going to do without a job? Without healthcare?" And on and on. Those responsibilities should be taken away from a centralized government in Washington and returned to their rightful owner, local communities and families. Some of us will probably suffer. (We are human; it is part of the experience). Some of us might have to live, room, or bunk more intimately with family or friends that may or may not like. We have to sell our collection of 400 DVDs.

The children are already suffering. They have been suffering (not to mention learning all the wrong lessons) from our refusal--as a nation, as states, as school districts, as families--our absolute refusal to live within our means. Our absolute refusal to look out for the common good of our neighbor. When did it become so noble for a person or organization to spend money he or she does not have? I see college kids who cannot pay their rent taking on the sponsoring of children in foreign countries. Unquestionably well-intentioned, but just as misguided. Why not put yourself in a better financial position, then sponsor the child! Making such decisions involves accepting the limits of being human made by God.

It is no wonder so few people lack any sort of semblance of contentment in their lives. How many families have you seen who live steeped in debt but surrounded by entertaining technological luxuries (that, by definition, they do not need)? I am certainly among the guilty at times. How many families are paying two (or three) car loans when they could be paying one and working intentionally with each other to make sure they got where they needed to? (This lifestyle, of course, would require sacrifice--something we are not very fond of.) Or individuals trying to pay off a Mustang when a $10,000 car would have gotten them from point A to point B? How many of us fall for the tricks of cell phone companies, annually giving up $500 for the latest model on the market? How many families have taken on morgages they couldn't really afford, and then tragically lost them to foreclosure during the last ten years of tough economic times? I do not wish for my own vitality to be linked with either the "economy" or the government trying to manipulate it.

The answer is neither more consumerist capitalism nor socialist government. There are several alternatives out there, though engaging with them will require more intentionality and probably some sacrifice. Check out the Christian Healthcare Ministries, a pool of money into which I pay so that the medical bills of others are paid, and so that if one day I need my own paid, they, too, will be taken care of. Learn about the Simple Way in Philadelphia. Attend my church, The Mercy House, at which a free after school program is run in West Anderson by volunteers . Those are just a few of so many creative alternatives. Next month, I may move in at a nearby Community Supported Agriculture farm, which exchanges housing for those who are willing to put ten hours of work on the farm. My sister enjoyed a similar agreement last year at a place called Good Works. The point isn't that she or I or anyone has it all figured out or is perfect; the point is there are better alternatives than the American entitlist government or consumerist economy.

So by all means, cut taxes, Washington. While you're at it, start slashing spending, too. Set the example for citizens who need to balance their own budgets and say no more often. And quit pretending a combination of the two isn't an option or that to say no means all the citizens will now die without the government providing every need for them.

The GRE: A Critique

I think I have mentioned before on this blog that I took the Graduate Record Examination before. As a first semester senior student and intern spending a semester in D.C, I had recently completed a perfunctory, failed TFA application, so I arrogantly and ignorantly approached the GRE the same way. Predictably, I bombed, scoring considerably less than 500 on both math and verbal. Pretty sure the International Relations M.A. admissions committees at American University and George Washington (never mind my foreign language failures in French during high school and college) laughed at my application. I don't even want to think about what I wrote in my essays.

So when I decided to apply to graduate school again this time around, I signed up for a Kaplan course to help me prepare. I do not do well with online courses, and I did not trust my own diligence in studying shit I mostly do not care about. It was expensive, but there was only five students in the class, so I received plenty of personal attention, and felt much more confident when I went in yesterday to take the test for the second time. Indeed, I scored about 100 total points better than last time. I did not perform as well as I hoped, but I am confident my scores will seal the deal for a few of the schools on my list.

I cannot complete this experience without offering a few thoughts. The assumption between the need for the GRE is that it adds to a university's ability to assess one's intellectual capability and readiness for graduate school. Mostly, I think it fails in its attempt. My criticisms probably apply to most standardized testing, so here they are. (I pray that every standardized test I take will be my last, but they seem to keep on coming...)

As I studied and answered the questions on yesterday's test, two sections struck me as relevant to what I will be studying in graduate school (English). The reading comprehension questions in the verbal section obviously assesses my ability to understand difficult texts, an ability I will need. The writing section assesses my ability to argue and express ideas for or against a given stance, and also asked me to evaluate and criticize a supposed letter to the editor. These tasks entail high order thinking and effective communication skills, which I will surely need in grad school. But that's where the alignment ends.

I'm pretty sure I will not be doing analogies or antonyms as an M.A. English student. Sure, it assesses my vocabulary and intelligence to some degree, but, as Rafe Esquith points out in his books about teaching, we should practice the way we are going to play. If what we are going to do in graduate school is read, discuss, and write about books, why make decisions about who's qualified based on who does the best at identifying correct antonyms?

Do not even get me started on the math. Math is a critical subject, and unfortunately one that is undervalued in this country. We need engineers, computer programmers, accountants, and the like. However, my passion and vocation will not ever include choosing which of two equations with multiple variables has a higher value. In reading classic English literature, I will not have to know that one of the side combinations for a right triangle is 5:12:13 (not to mention the radicals!).

But those are the things I spent the last month studying. I played the game; now I'll probably gain entrance into grad school. I found the verbal and math sections to be quite rushed; I can imagine that one who does not write as much as I do would encounter the same challenge on the writing section. Because timing is one of the tougher challenges on the test, our class spent considerable time discussing and practicing many strategies for identifying answers without doing the actual work: knowing which answer choices to eliminate, knowing tendencies of the test, knowing which answer choices to try first when "picking a number."

While last time I applied to graduate school, I was undoubtedly a little naive of life beyond undergraduate studies. But I was not less intellectually capable; I did not contain any less of a work ethic than I know have. The only difference was, this time I played the game, which is mostly what the GRE assesses.

Unfortunately, I do not think the GRE executives or the deans of major universities will be consulting me for my opinions any time soon, which means Kaplan and their competitors will likely stay in business. And all you high schoolers out there should probably learn your algebra and geometry, if for no other reason than succeeding on the GRE some day.