Describe any leadership, internship or work experience; personal and/or political beliefs; and/or campaign or political experience that demonstrates your commitment to progressive values.
Throughout college I had always leaned to the left. I thought poverty and war were bad. I had been an Eagle Scout and loved my time outdoors, so I was in favor of environmental protections. I graduated and got a job as a computer programmer. By 2005 though, I was pretty bored with programming, and was looking to earn more money, so I was looking at law school. But then two things happened.
The first was JustFaith. JustFaith “aspires to enable people of faith to develop a passion for justice, to express this passion in concrete acts of social ministry, and to expand the work of social ministry in their faith communities.” Over the course of nine months I had my eyes opened to what the Gospels I had professed to love all my life really meant.
The second thing that happened was the death of my youngest brother at age 20. Seeing how his death affected my family demonstrated to me how much suffering goes on in this world day after day, hour after hour. And seeing how our family and friends rallied around us demonstrated to me how powerful and necessary community is for any of us to get through this messy life.
These two events opened my eyes which had been blinded by a life of first world privilege and instilled in me the belief, as Anne Lamott puts it, that we have a moral obligation to save the world.
I no longer was going to law school because I was bored and wanted more money, but to learn skills vital to making a positive, lasting impact on my community. Law school saw me honing my legal skills at the public defender’s office. It saw me take my first steps in the world of lobbying and campaigning in favor of gay equality, and I got my toes wet as a community organizer working on issues of racial justice and reducing youth crime. Since graduating, I was able to spend time last fall working for the Obama campaign in my home state of Wisconsin, and have been working this spring to bring marriage equality back to California. In short, I want to spend my life seeking out and righting injustices so that everyone has a chance to live a life that allows them to flourish.
Tell us about an experience where you have seen racism, sexism or cultural/class frictions get in the way of an organizations work, and your thoughts on how that situation could have been improved or avoided.
Last summer I had just moved to Los Angeles and started volunteering at my local “No on 8” office to work to keep same-sex marriage legal. From the start though, I could see that something was wrong. The organizers all assumed that everyone who showed up to volunteer was super liberal and was there to “redefine” marriage, when many people there weren’t necessarily liberal, they just had a gay person in their life whom they love.
This pattern was repeated throughout the campaign. The No on 8 folks couldn’t seem to understand why their volunteers showed up, so they always seemed desperate for help. They couldn’t seem to understand what motivated undecided voters, so their ads didn’t connect. And instead of a landmark victory, the No on 8 folks went to a close, but crushing defeat.
Their problem wasn’t lack of passion, or money, or skills. It was a lack of empathy. On a campaign you have to understand why your friends are friendly, why your opposition opposes you, and what undecided voters are thinking. Empathy enables you to do all three. It cuts across race, gender, sexual orientation, and class to let you stand in another’s shoes. And once you understand someone, you can connect with them.
There’s something about wide open desolate places. They tug at something primal in me. The expansiveness of their skies, the distance to the horizon, their vast emptiness all emphasize your smallness, thereby pushing you back into yourself, forcing you to be deeply present in the moment. This deep, easy presence brings me a deep sense of peace and makes me feel closer to my Creator.
I took the train to work the other day. More precisely I took three trains. I was delighted to find that this trip was even possible given the distance between here and there. Ever since visiting Chicago as an adult, I’ve liked the idea of going to work on a train. Couple the romance with the financial savings and the chance to be one of those smugly superior environmentalists and I had to try it, even if it was supposed to take longer.
I very much enjoyed it. On the train you can check out. Think. Write. People watch. Enjoy community in 20 minute chunks. Enjoy being a tourist in your own city. On the train you can’t get cut off, have no need to swear. I arrived to work and back home again in fine moods.
But as I said, I didn’t take the train, I took three, doubling my commute. Like all doomed romances, riding the train couldn’t stand up to the honest truth. So I drove to work the next day. I wrote nothing, thought less. Laid on the horn, swore. And thought maybe a longer commute isn’t so bad after all.
