Looks like Kentucky joins West Virginia in the classification of racist states… but let’s not ignore the elephant in the room.
9 out of 10 people who said they were voting based on race were white Clinton supporters. 65 percent are conservatives, many of whom have no intention of voting for a Democrat in the General Election. That ought to tell you something.
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The timeline of the following story, while generally linear, tends to overlap at times for the sake of continuity and readability. All of it, however, is accurate to the best of my recollection. It’s long and probably self-effacing. The majority of it was written between 10pm last night and 3am this morning while watching the results of the Oregon primaries, and is probably poorly written as a result. Don’t say you weren’t warned.
——–
A few weeks ago I revealed to a new group that I had voted for Bush in 2000 and was once a staunch Conservative Christian Republican with nothing but contempt for “the liberals” and “the liberal media.” On a political quiz in one of my college courses, I ranked just to the right of Rush Limbaugh.
Instead of ridicule, I was simply asked why. I explained that I had attended a Christian high school when I first discovered politics and my main influences were fundamentalist and conservative. They asked,”What was the mindset were you in though? What info which was later dispelled? You have a special insight here and it’s a good opportunity to understand what goes on over there. Furthermore, how exactly did you turn, and with what info?”
My response: “I don’t even know where to begin.” Really, it’s not an easy answer.
The Early Years.
My mother is a devout Christian and has always tried to lead by that example. During my youth, we attended church infrequently, mainly on holidays or other special events. Then we came upon a small church that was meeting in the Notre Dame high school’s auditorium once a week. They called themselves Northwoods.
Looking back on it, I can see where the appeal came from. The group was comprised of a few hundred people of many demographics. Every Sunday there were sweets and baked goods in the lobby, contributed by members of the church (and naturally, as a pre-pubescent boy, my favorite part of the gathering). It was a place you could go without being judged, one which offered a different approach to faith.
On stage, there was a live band–something I would have never imagined after attending the long, dreary sermons of other area churches where counting sheep meant surveying the number of poofy white hairdos atop grumpy faces. Unlike these sleep factories, this church didn’t spend the first thirty minutes of the service singing obscure, ancient hymns. Instead, they sang a few contemporary songs and had a drama presentation. After that, the sermon was energetically delivered by a young and charismatic pastor. The body of followers was enthusiastic and on the grow, signaling a fundamental change in marketing–thus evangelizing–that was proving to be more than merely effective; it was revolutionary.
After the church had grown some and I became active in group activities and volunteering in both youth productions and Sunday services as part of the stage crew, I eventually joined the ranks of the “born again” after attending a Christian concert (then, not quite grasping the concept of Christian salvation, once again at another concert). I was excited about it, giddy almost. It was new and inviting even as I was finding my niche.
A few years went by and I ended up at a local Christian high school after petitioning to gain acceptance. More bonus. By this time I wasn’t exactly excited in my faith anymore, but I wasn’t adverse to it. I felt as if I had grown more mature, that arbitrary rebellion was childish and had developed a bit of a disdain for those who weren’t at my level (parental rebellion, naturally, was still fair game). Looking back on it now, obviously, I remember being as confused as anyone that age.
It was during this time that I began to develop an idea of what I wanted to do with my life. I was adept at music, being able to passably play any instrument I tried after a short period of time. I was also technologically proficient, having surpassed the majority of my peers with my knowledge and abilities in using and maintaining a PC. However, I also had an insatiable thirst for intellectual endeavors in the areas of history and psychology.
Then, something strange happened. In the wake of the uniquely teenage style of depression following my first major romantic rejection (a complete comedy of errors on my part, by the way), I found something to cling to. After being introduced and becoming involved in the straightedge and local hardcore music scenes, animal rights and social awareness, my world history teacher assigned me to write a report on a book by none other than Rush Limbaugh.
I was already familiar with his conservative rants and remarks from being in class with the dittohead teacher. After immediately discovering how unpopular it was to be a Democrat in a Christian school (and after being called a “Demoncrat” by one of my friends) I became completely apolitical. After all, I had only identified with the Democrats because my family was largely comprised of centrist Democrats. What did it matter to me?
It never occurred to me that I ought to challenge my history teacher on anything he had to say. For starters, challenging the teachers on any matter was strongly discouraged, and even punishable by disciplinary action (as apparently free thinking is un-Christian and equates to disrespect in the eyes of the administrators). More significant was the fact that I didn’t even know there was another side. The only information we were given was slanted to the right. The only thing we had to know about liberals and liberalism is that they were bad and immoral. End of discussion.
Who could blame me for blindly agreeing with everything I read in Limbaugh’s book, even the parts slamming the environmentalists and animal rights activists? What source was I to draw on to balance my understanding of the topics that were being presented? Certainly not the school library, filled as it was with Christian-themed books, the most arguably liberal tomes in the collection being classic poetry (which I still happened to read frequently).
I scored an A on the report after sacrificing the night to breeze through the second half of the book and come up with a coherent presentation. The teacher was giddily asking me to share my thoughts on certain parts of the book, then barely able to conceal his laughter as I worked through one point after another, as told by El Rushbo himself.
Before the next student even started his presentation, by the time I had settled in my seat, one deafening thought drowned out all others: I was pretty damn good at this.
Warrior for God
After learning to talk the talk, I was getting better at walking the walk. I still had a love affair with secular music that my peers said I needed to “turn over to God,” but other than that I was a stalwart Christmeister. My involvement at Northwoods was growing along with the number of followers and moreover, the offerings.
By now we had long moved beyond the high school auditorium and into a truck stop that had been remodeled for our holy purposes as the church elders began making promises to break ground on a brand new construction project: we were building a permanent location.
The church now had a complete mission statement and a thriving word of mouth marketing campaign working in their favor. The message was simple: “We provide a safe place to investigate the claims of Christ.” The senior pastor had ever emphasized the need to compartmentalize our community. “As we grow larger,” he would say,”we need to become smaller.” Specifically, he was referring to the smaller groups targeted at different demographics. The elderly groups. The youth groups. The singles group. Church activities groups, etc.
Meanwhile some other changes were happening. In growing larger, we had indeed become smaller but not in the way they had intended. As is natural for teenagers, the youth groups had splintered into our own cliques. However, at group activities, we were all able to get along and have fun together, regardless of social barriers. The chord that seemed out of key in our Godly little chorus was the way our adolescent compartmentalization spread beyond our age group–the adults were forming cliques as well.
Being one of the more frequent volunteers, I was privy to overhearing conversations that weren’t intended for my consumption. Two people talking about another member. That member telling his or her friends about what the other person did, and so on. Not only that, but I noticed an air of self-importance surrounding some of the staff. Naturally, after a sermon it seemed that everybody wanted a piece of the speaking pastor’s time. As membership grew, time became more scarce for these well-wishers and adoring fans.
But something else was at play here too. While there was business to attend to in anticipation of the coming groundbreaking ceremony at the new location, things sort of became, well, businesslike. Not only was there jockeying for favor and other positioning amongst staff members–in retrospect, this something which seems rather apparent now that I’m working in an actual corporate environment and observe this sort of thing pretty regularly–but even the small groups and program teams had seemed to be more about productivity than community. If you were important enough, you got the time of day. If not, well, thanks for helping out, be here early tomorrow morning.
It took awhile for the alienation to really set in, since I was mingling with other area youth groups and attending their gatherings to supplement my own church’s events. It was at these events that I became more deeply entrenched in the fundamentalist, conservative Christian lifestyle. Some of these were innocent bonfire gatherings and weenie roasts, occasionally with a band present. Others were more “rooted,” where you got funny stares if you didn’t have your eyes closed and your arms slowly waving in the air during worship sessions. Others detailed the devilry of the world and the fire and brimstone which awaits those who stray from the One True Path™ of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ™.
I’ve seen it all: exorcisms, healings, stories of salvation, revivals. At one event near Chicago, I heard a young woman detailing the story of her birth, and how her delivery had been performed in a Satanic ritual.
“Must’ve been liberals.”
This assumption always seemed to follow a negative perception. You see, in the world of Christian Republicans, the problem with all social ills and perceived immorality is due to the radical mindset of god-hating, anti-family liberals in the Democratic party.
My peers always seemed to agree with my assessment–no further thought was necessary. Further discussion, however, was inevitable. Bill Clinton had been painted as the oppressor of all freedoms and the antithesis to the Constitution which we all held so dear (the irony!). What would begin as a single comment about how the liberal media was attempting to derail justice and was involved in a cover-up to protect the White House (odd since they devoted so much time to the Lewinsky thing) would unfailingly lead to a never-varying discussion on abortion, the environment, atheists, affirmative action, feminism, smaller government, states rights, the military, taxes, prayer in schools, evolution and the breakdown of the American family.
The discussion of each topic never strayed far from a central viewpoint we all shared: the conservative one. One of us would start to “make our point,” which would always be a monologue, and another would pick up right where they left off. Any one of us could have had the entire discussion, verbatim, with ourselves, because each of us knew it so well.
Looking back on it now, I can see the appeal. Making a statement and having everybody in the group around agree with you 100% leaves one with a good feeling. These people respected your ideas. They were interested in what you had to say. Who could resist encouragement like that?
I was discovering another thing as well: politics not only got you recognition, but it was easy. As long as you know your lines, you’re in.
Or so I thought.
Carrying the Torch.
By the beginning of my Junior year in high school, I was already sick of the condescending attitudes of my classmates and tired of the constant show people put on to out-Jesus each other in public, but act like utter hypocrites in private. I spent the rest of my high school career in a public school. I had also mostly stopped going to church, but still kept in touch with a number of old friends. I became more of a casual Christian in practice, but never abandoned the rhetoric, even though I had already lost my virginity, smoked and drank on occasion, smoked weed a few times and cursed with a mastery that rivaled that of my uninitiated peers. At the same time, I was becoming my own person, not giving a flying fuck what anybody thought of me as long as they gave me my space.
My clothing style was, ah, interesting during this time as well. Some days I’d show up in full regalia, complete with baggy pants and a t-shirt featuring an obscure hardcore band. Other times, I’d be dressed in a suit and tie, looking like I was getting ready to meet with a major client behind closed doors and win their business with charm and a brilliant sales pitch.
By the time I was entering college, however, I was a finished product. Business casual dress wherever I went (to this day you’ll rarely find me in anything but a button-down shirt), sometimes more, depending on the event and how pretentious I was feeling that day. My academic career, however, was an utter failure.
I’ve justified it in the past as overambitiousness. Now I see it for how it was: my main problem was that I entered college with something to prove. Coupled with an energetic but horribly undisciplined study method and work ethic, I was doomed from the start.
My academic choice, naturally, was political science with a minor in philosophy. I did well in the classes initially and as the semester went on I got braver and started challenging my instructors. What was bad wasn’t that I was challenging them (something I strongly encourage), but why I was challenging them.
I was enlightened, you see. I listened to right-wing radio on a regular basis. I read the political websites and newspapers. I watched Fox News–the alternative to the bias of the liberal media. Unlike my college peers, I was aware of the intellectual establishment’s contempt for American freedoms. I had come prepared, dear reader, armed with the knowledge that colleges were bastions of liberal indoctrination!
To pad the resume that would eventually carry my ambitions, I joined every student organization I was eligible for, openly identifying myself as a conservative. My first semester of college I became an elected senator of the student government–quite a feat considering some had been running for several semesters and still got no further than “appointed” status. I became the secretary of both the environmental organization and the student philosophy association. Then, of course, there were the Christian groups.
My reasoning was that they’d give me greater credibility and experience. After all this time, here I had become the one jockeying for position, something I had rejected at Northwoods. So it comes full circle.
My “enlightened” status eventually led to my academic demise for a number of semesters after going through several majors, determined to “get it right this time.” It wasn’t until I gave up on politics and switched to computer science that I actually started earning decent grades and not dropping out of classes halfway through the semester.
The bias through which I drew my inspiration and counted as my greatest strength ended up being my undoing. It wasn’t the work or the complexity of the subjects I was studying–it’s that I was resistant to new ideas, convinced that I had it right the first time. I made the mistake of entering a place of learning with a closed mind and suffered the consequences.
I went further than that, too. I was finding it increasingly difficult to defend my views. Before, when I was surrounded with other conservatives and Christians, I never had to worry about backing up my claims with facts or even reasoning (something which I was still pretty adept at for having little or no factual ground or sound logic to back it up with). When I was asked to scratch beneath the surface to defend my arguments, I came up empty-handed… or resisted, or resorted to ad hominem, or changed the subject. I eventually got pissed at the ones who were questioning me instead of listening to their arguments. I, on the other hand, was guilty of saying the same thing over and over, in as many ways as I could think of, as if putting it in a thousand different contexts somehow solidified it.
I would think of this period as the start of my conversion, but it really marked the beginning of a long period of disenchantment. Disillusionment would come later.
Espresso and Discourse.
Sometime in the later phase of my academic crash and burn, I came upon a group of people by complete accident. A friend of mine had invited me to a show for some local bands at a coffee shop in a nearby town. The only other thing I had going at the time was writing a paper on how big government was evil and business and free market were the source of all that is good and right with the world… for the millionth time.
That more or less opened the floodgates to what I would eventually become. I hit it off with the regulars as well as the family that owned the place. It became my second home–during the summer I would spend entire days there, and eventually landed a job. I made a number of persisting friendships with people I previously never would have given the time of day.
They were liberals. My first real, live liberal friends.
Where I would have done well previously in my studies is in listening to what people had to say without carrying my own judgments in the matter. I still have to catch myself at times so as not to slip into old patterns. Unfortunately for me, it took the complete breaking of my spirit to get to the point where I’d actually listen to what others had to say and where I’d challenge myself on matters instead of assuming anyone who disagreed with me was wrong.
In part, I think that merely being around these new people was enough for me to see the error of my ways. As it turned out, these weren’t the hateful radicals I had heard about. They weren’t the moral deviants I was warned would set me on the path to hell, nor were their thoughts and ideas so outlandish that they bordered on satire. Among them were people of multiple religions–or none at all. Each one of them had varying opinions that sometimes overlapped and were agreed upon, but still different enough to be distinguishable from the others. Where they disagreed, they didn’t accuse the other of being a Nazi or a Commie, or any of the labels my conservative ilk and I had applied to people like them.
“My God!” I realized,”they’re actually people!”
That was the defining moment for me: opening my mind. I was hearing the other side of the story for the first time. Here were the missing pieces of the puzzle. Here’s why my arguments failed. Right here in front of me were all the things I had never considered, laid bare and without malice… but it wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine.
To this day, I can’t quite come up with a suitable comparison to having your beliefs shattered in wave after wave of disillusionment and realization. I can’t honestly blame them for what happened nor what followed. The catalyst for this transformation wasn’t in what they said, but that it had caused me to think.
I can see why the extreme right wants to stoke our fears and keep us apart.
What followed can only be described as hitting bottom. In thinking of my views on the economy, I found flaws in capitalism and the dangers and corruption inherent in free markets. By reexamining my views on affirmative action, it dawned on me that while the policy may have become mostly obsolete, out of desperation it may have been necessary when it was introduced. When exploring what I previously held to be Truth in my faith, I paid attention to the contradictions, the inconsistencies, the history and the science; but more so, it gave me a chance to objectively evaluate the negative social impact of the religious right and how well their politics matched their values. I looked at the science behind evolution. I looked at the debunkery of creationism. I weighed the costs and benefits of smaller government versus the ever-increasing powers of the corporate elite and their endless army of lobbyists.
After 9/11 occurred my sense of belligerent nationalism was inflamed along with everyone else’s.. only, it didn’t last. At least, not like it would have a year earlier. In the midst of my disillusionment, I became apathetic. Sure, I wanted there to be payback for the attacks. I wanted there to be WMD’s in Iraq. But I didn’t care if there weren’t. Even if there were, so what? I had been lied to for years and fell for it. I was a complete sucker and I knew it.
Depression set in for a considerable amount of time. I had quit school and was working in the downtown bar scene for about two years. I began to drink and lose ambition. It’s not like it wasn’t readily available. On most nights after work, we’d stay up and drink from 4:30 am until almost noon. I’m not saying that being a conservative will turn you into an alcoholic, my indulgence was more a result of apathy, convenience and acceptability. However, my conservative background left me with a cynicism towards minorities, so I didn’t have much of a problem enforcing a blatantly racist dress code in the bars I worked at (something which increasingly led to my radicalization against racism in any form). It wasn’t overt, I just didn’t give a shit.
It wasn’t until after an attempted suicide at the depth of my depression that I finally came around and started getting my shit together. There wasn’t a magical transformation nor a melodramatic conversion. I was too old for this shit. Sure, I hadn’t lost anyone especially close to me, but I had lost my ambition. Politics and my faith were everything to me and now they seemed so… meaningless. The friends who had opened my eyes to the world had moved across the country and took my non-downtown social life with them, I was jobless and penniless and was basically living off of my girlfriend for an unreasonable amount of time. My old Christian friends were busy with their own lives and spread across the country, but at that point I didn’t really want to talk to them, either.
Back to the Future.
I had taken a couple of night classes during my time at the bar and earned a PC repair certification. I decided to enterprise a bit and get back into the swing of things, bringing myself up to date on web design standards, teaching myself a bit of networking, programming and graphical design, once again drawing on my old strengths that I’d mostly forgotten about. I landed a few IT jobs and started making a livable wage.
Although, sometime in late 2004 I started gaining interest in these old subjects once again. I began reading again and paying attention to the news. I explored a number of political topics and boned up on what was going on in the world. I cracked open some old philosophy books and regained a sense of my old ambitions.
While I still had no desire to become involved it again, I never gave myself an excuse to stop learning about it. It would be a hobby, I thought. Like gardening. My intentions were to get a degree in computer science or perhaps a Cisco certification and make my living that way.
In the meantime, as my knowledge expanded, so did my political views advance. If I found out I was wrong about something, I’d find out why I was wrong and adjust my thoughts accordingly. Once again, I became a lover of knowledge, but this time without the preconceptions and biases that had previously held me back. If someone had done something commendable, I’d recognize it whether I agreed with their policies or not. If someone did something shady, I’d write them off as a scumbag–but never without the chance to redeem themselves. People change. I did.
The past few years have been somewhat of a blur, having come out of a failing relationship of nearly two years to becoming a husband and a father in a relatively short amount of time. I also landed a professional position as an IT analyst at a local company. Things were going great for awhile until… I got political again.
I can’t say that I wasn’t already political before the shit hit the fan, but I had no intention of changing course until I realized something: I have positively no interest in an IT career. Part of it had to do with general corporate behavior (a moot point for my job–the company I work for is quite clean and respectable in that regard) and office politics, which harken back to my days on the inside of Northwoods Community Church. More than anything, I was less than impressed with the the proverbial pissing contest between the technically inclined. I lived among fundamentalists and the wingnut fringe, guys, I recognize shallow self-importance when I see it.
I had intended to go back to school for the spring semester of 2008, but ended up moving to a new house with my family to be able to afford the cost of childcare, and paying for two rents until the lease at our old apartment expired didn’t give us an inch of wiggle room for budgeting this kind of thing. That, and FAFSA is slower than hell.
However, I am now currently enrolled full time for the fall semester. Fortunately, due to the lapse between the last time I was attended college and the present, I’m also eligible to get the shitty grades erased by retaking the classes and passing a few others. Overall I’m pretty confident that things will be different this time. First off, my work ethic is far better than it was when I was 18, and now much more is at stake: 1) getting out of an industry I have no desire to stay in; 2) realizing that ambitious potential that has kept me awake at night; and most importantly 3) providing a higher quality of life for myself and my family.
And, now that I think about it, 4) opening a few minds in the process. It’s not for everybody, but looking back on it now, I wouldn’t change a thing… except, maybe, choosing to enroll in a Christian school and being suckered into a narrow ideology that has wasted years of my life. I still have no desire whatsoever to serve in any kind of government position.
The Circus is Still in Town.
So what is it like over there?
Well, I imagine that most of them have a very limited social circle where they’ve managed to, either by accident or intent, filter the *types* of people they interact with. If you look at the paragraph that begins with “My peers always seemed to agree with my assessment,” you can see how such a scenario might play out. Even when exposed to differing viewpoints, there’s still a social safety net to catch you and reconfirm your views. A stroke of the ego is the cure for any kind of self-doubt. Of course, by the time I had begun to mingle with the coffee shop crowd, I no longer had the safety net to conveniently catch me.
Since switching sides, one thing I’ve found in common among most self-styled conservatives is the condescending attitudes they display towards those they’re “debating” with. That’s another thing. They love to use the word “debate” to describe a one-way lecture.
For instance, in the “I was enlightened” paragraph, you can see where some of the attitude may come from. At the time I had considered myself extremely well-informed. The hosts and reporters and authors of my sources of information talked about how we were getting the real story, unbiased and spin-free. We were told we’re among the informed insiders.
Who doesn’t want to believe that? Looking back on it, it really is an ingenious marketing strategy. Appeal to people’s narcissism by telling them they’re the ones with knowledge or that they’re the ones who aren’t being duped. Tell them they’re the true patriots. Kiss their asses until their underwear chafes. When marketing to the petty side of human nature, a flattering lie will take you a lot farther than an ugly truth.
Another common reaction to opposing viewpoints that I both participated and regularly witnessed occurs the way I described in “The bias through which” paragraph and the following one. There was a clear resistance to anything that differed to what we thought or thought we knew. For instance, the initial reaction among many conservatives during the Elian Gonzales fiasco was to deport the kid back to the commies. Considering the blatant anti-immigrant policies and attitudes common among conservatives and the “open arms” policy we felt the left had displayed, it was a surprise to some of us when the Janet Reno Justice Department agreed. Then the punditry came in and took the other side leaving many of us confused. But like good soldiers we followed suit. Janet Reno was part of the Clinton administration, and the Clinton administration was the enemy of truth and freedom. As a group, we weren’t exactly hard to manipulate.
I still see the fickle phenomena of the conservative right when Limbaugh listeners try making the claim that their intentions with “Operation Chaos” were indeed to prolong the Democratic nomination process, not to get Clinton nominated since they felt she’d be a figure to rally against in the general election and, subsequently, easier to defeat. While it took me awhile to become “liberal,” it didn’t take long at all to recognize the flock mentality of the Limbaugh crowd and to distance myself from it to appear as though I had reached my conclusions independently. Even today there’s no shortage of Limbaugh clones blatantly plagiarizing the man but saying things like “I don’t agree with him all the time,” or “I don’t listen to him.”
Facts are another thing many conservatives still seem to have problems with. As long as a politician ran on a conservative ticket, we never bothered with him again unless a scandal broke–which we responded to by changing the subject and using gotcha phrases to silence the opposition. As conservatives, we never ever argued based on merits. Instead we started with a set of assumed absolutes, then built our arguments from there. It never seemed to occur to us that there may have been problems in what we assumed was settled. Anyone who reads my blog and is familiar with the person known as “Vonster” ought to be familiar with these methods.
When I call out the wingnut fringe on their trademark bullshit, it’s not because I want to silence the opposition or am being closed-minded to their perceptions. The fact of the matter is, I’ve been on the other side. I know all their tricks, all their lines and all their games. I’ve seen the flock mentality and the blubbering fervor that stokes their fires. I understand that they don’t see ignorance as a weakness. I’ve experienced first-hand the process by which this group comes to its conclusions and how they become confident in them. I was on the inside.
I do my best to hear someone out even after they carry on with these intellectually bankrupt tactics, but only up to a point. When I’m dismissive of an argument, it’s not that I’m filtering the person out. Chances are high that I’ve heard it before or said it before when I was on their side of the line years ago. Unfortunately for the person in question and their children for generations to come, they think that because nobody is interested in hearing their thoughtless bullshit, it means they won the “debate.” There’s that word again. Maybe they think it makes them sound smarter, I don’t know.
Conclusion.
What information caused me to turn? Everything and nothing. There simply was no one revelation that set me down the path. The pivotal moment was when I decided to listen. That’s really all it took. I’m not embellishing or romanticizing it at all; it was difficult, but I was weary. What followed was even more difficult, made me forget who I was and left me wondering whether there was anything I was ever supposed to do.
What happened led to my ability to empathize and recognize a bit more clearly the struggle and complexity that is the human condition. Did I become a “better person” as a result of everything? Maybe. Who can say? But it did give me a desire to do good by my fellow man and try to make the world a better place. That should count for something, right?
I’m not even sure why I bothered to spend all this time writing about it. I doubt my “unique insight” will help at all. After all the people I’ve dealt with on the right, I find it hard not to believe there’s truth in the idea that it might actually take an odyssey like mine to achieve the same realizations. That’s a nice way of saying “you can’t reason with these people.” What they call “news” involves two people yelling at each other, where the one yelling the loudest is usually the host of the show and thereby the winner. Maybe I lack the vision necessary to see how this will help influence people, but good luck to those who try.
