Duty Calls

People love to complain about things, but in a democracy the responsibility for change sits squarely on our shoulders. You may not get the candidate you vote for, but the act of voting itself is a show of respect for those who fought (and died) to ensure you have a say at all. On this Remembrance Day weekend, it’s more important than ever to honour their sacrifice at every opportunity.

BC is currently conducting a mail-in referendum on electoral reform. We have been given a chance to change a system that many of us have griped about for-seeming-ever. I won’t try to describe the options here because the details are irrelevant for anyone outside of BC, and anyone inside BC has until November 30 to mail your ballot to Elections BC—only you’d better mail it in well before the 30^th because postal service is hiccupping on Canada Post’s rotating strike. And it’s important that your ballot is counted. This is what democracy is all about, Charlie Brown.

There’s been a buzz about something in the wind for the past few weeks, but not much in the media besides advertisements for and against electoral reform, neither of which did much to unravel the mystery of the alternatives to the system we have now.

The system that’s literally been in place for centuries. The system that, with some alteration, is why Hillary Clinton won the popular vote in the States, but lost the presidential election. That’s why I’ve paid attention to this referendum. I don’t want something similar to happen here.

I know, I know. It’s confusing. I dislike recommendations to visit anyone’s website for more information because I don’t spend a lot of time on the Internet. Government websites aren’t always easy to navigate, and the 1-800 toll free phone number generally advises me that “our call volume has exceeded our capacity, so please try again later.” Information can been spotty and not very well explained. In truth, I was so befuddled by the options to “first past the post” that I almost declined to vote at all. Then I thought, No, I have to vote; it’s a privilege and my responsibility, but figured I’d stay with the status quo. But then I realized I’m unhappy with the status quo, and maybe I should consider the options—or at least watch the news blurb wherein the options were, as it turned out, sorta kinda outlined and didn’t impress me into changing my mind.

Ter and I watched the televised debate between the Premier and the Leader of the Opposition a couple of days ago. That was where the three alternatives being offered were explained in a way that chimed. It helped me make up my mind not only to vote at all, but to think about the choices and consciously decide which one aligns with my sense of how government should look.

It didn’t take that long. Sure, it took some effort because I had to use my brain, but when I gave myself five minutes to focus, some things became clear. Better yet, when I finally opened the referendum package that came in the mail, I understood what I was reading. I almost messed up the ballot, but I caught myself and got it safely in the mail this afternoon. “Look at us,” I said to Ter, “participating in the democratic process!” Considering that women weren’t allowed to vote a hundred years ago, it’s more precious to me than ever.

Truly, BC reader, you didn’t have to have watched the debate to comprehend the write up in the package you received; just give yourself five minutes to focus. Think about whether or not you’re okay with where we’re at. If you are, say so. If you’re not, do the work, then make it count.

From now on, complaining is not an option.

Make It Count

Finally! Def Leppard is nominated for induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame! At last! How many anniversary editions of Hysteria did they have to release to make the list?

“We have to get online and vote,” Ter said, and I agree. But wait. We can vote as often as we like—daily, if we choose. What the ...?

The same thing is happening on PBS with The Great American Read. People are encouraged to go online and vote for their favourite novel—or novels (yes, more than one can be a favourite)—from a shortlist of 100, as many times as they want before the deadline. The most votes wins, so vote now and vote often.

Huh?? Imagine if the same rule applied to political elections. And why doesn’t it? If I can tip the scales in the Leppard King’s favour by clicking OK a dozen times a day, why do I only get one crack at the House of Parliament?

Give me a mittful of ballots. The most votes would still win, right? And I can say I participated in the democratic process. Never mind if I vote for three separate candidates eight times apiece. Okay, maybe one will get nine votes and the other two will get, say, three and six, respectively. Do the math and my first choice will clearly be the one who got nine votes. Meanwhile, my crazy neighbour votes twenty times for one candidate and guess what? Nutbar’s guy gets in by two votes. How is that fair?

I doubt fairness to the candidate/nominee (or at all) is the point. It seems these online polls are geared toward empowering the voter, specifically the chronically indecisive voter with a nervous tic in his index finger. I understand the challenge of naming a favourite anything—my favourite Leppard song depends on the day—but come on. If you want the Leps in the RnR Hall of Fame, by all means, say so; however ...

Once is enough!

Stand Up and Be Counted

Tuesday is election day in BC. I hear on the grapevine that May 30 will see Nova Scotians headed to the polls, as well. Democracy is alive and well from coast to coast.

Or is it?

I’ve consistently voted Orange in provincial elections, mostly because they supposedly support working people and social programs. I won’t say I’ll never vote Red because, who knows, one day a miracle might happen and they’ll start caring about constituents over capitalism. And voting Green seemed futile to my jaundiced eye. Too young, too new, too untried. Too naive. Better to stick with the old guard and be assured of ... what? The same old song and dance, that’s what.

There was a time (wasn’t there?) when politics was about people, not power. Nowadays, the big guns seem more concerned with slagging each other than explaining to me how they intend on making my life better. The money spent on attack ads is sickening. Pointing fingers and proclaiming “Red’s not working for you” while neglecting to say how Orange will has me seriously considering where to cast my ballot.

The Orange candidate in my riding is a seasoned pro. She’s been around forever, and was even the leader of the party for a while, until some internal stupidity had them punting her in favour of blanc mange in a suit. I like her. I believe in her willingness to work for the folks in her riding ... but she’s old guard. They’re all old guard, and the future belongs to the young ’uns.

But how can the young ’uns get anywhere if they have no experience? I’m going Green this year, not just because they talk about serving the public instead of their own interests (I can hear the cynics now – “Ru, you starry-eyed dolt, they’ll say anything for a chance to serve their own interests!”), but because they are young and idealistic, and they need to get some experience before their party can pose a real threat to Punch and Judy.

Green has no chance of winning this election. None. Zero, zip, zilch. I know that. I hope, however, to help create an imbalance that results in a minority government for whichever of the usual suspects does win. I also hope to give the next generation some work experience before their party gains enough support to form a government because, eventually, I think they will.

Is there such a thing as a wasted vote? There is. A wasted vote is a vote not cast at all. It’s also a vote against democracy. Freedom may be our birthright, but too many in the world have been robbed of that right by those who seek to rule over them. Voting has become a privilege, hard won on the backs and by the blood of those who’ve gone before us, and opting out is more than copping out. It’s disrespectful both to them, and to the people elsewhere in the world who have no say in who governs them. Sure, your candidate may lose, but your voice will still be heard. And if he/she loses, you can complain with impunity. If he/she wins, not so much—but one might argue that you asked for it. At least you’ll have a say in the outcome.

Vote. Please. Vote to keep (insert colour) out. Vote to get (insert colour) in. Don’t like either of them? Vote for the independent candidate and tip the balance in favour of the opposition. Vote for the future. Vote for the generation who must solve the problems we’ve created for them.

Most importantly, once more with feeling, vote because you can.

Still unconvinced? Then let me introduce to you the President of the United States ...

Suffragette City

January 28 was the centennial anniversary of women winning the right to vote. It was also the thirtieth anniversary of the Challenger explosion—an event I remember because it happened during my lifetime. I’ve always had the right to vote; the fight for it happened long before I was born … yet not so long ago. One hundred years isn’t that many in the big picture.

Women’s issues continue to be issues, however. With the US presidential election looming, the argument for/against is once again in contention for candidate support on either side.

A female president would be pretty cool. I admire Hillary Clinton. She’s made her way in a man’s world, and she’d probably be a good president, though I think her focus might be more on foreign policy given her portfolio as Secretary of State during the Obama administration. Looking good to the rest of the world while your home is in a shambles seems to occupy most political leaders’ minds, male or female. Besides, I’ve watched enough women in power to know that many of them don’t care about their struggling sisters, and if they do stand up on the issues, they’re not taken seriously by their male counterparts.

Maybe a woman isn’t the best advocate for pay equity, health care and education. Maybe it should be a man who sees those points for what they really are: issues that affect not just women, but everyone on the planet.

If I was entitled to vote in the US election (thankfully, I’m not), I’d vote for Vermont governor Bernie Sanders (D). I’ve heard him speak on a few occasions, and he’s a guy who gets it. He speaks eloquently and passionately about the problems close to home, those issues almost universally dismissed as “women’s issues”: child poverty, poor education, inaccessible health care and, from there, planned parenthood. He recognizes that these resolving these issues is important to the nation as a whole. They are not unique to women. They are society’s issues, but if we insist on labelling everything, perhaps they should be termed “children’s issues” because—let’s face it—the future lies with the little ones.

Just a thought.

Trudeau 2.0

Canada's "Boy Toy" PM

“He’s not your father’s Trudeau,” said Peter Mansbridge on election night.

I paid little to no attention to politics in Trudeau the Elder’s heyday, so I can’t say whether the country was ruined or not when Pierre was in power. I didn’t even see the reputed charisma he allegedly had, and which Justin (his eldest son) has in spades.

Prone as I am to picking my fantasy hockey team on looks, however, I do recognize that picking my politicians demands a tad more serious criteria. Despite the sense that election day snuck up on me, I was aware enough to appreciate how the campaign was handled by the candidates. Justin Trudeau’s strategy was similar to that of Barack Obama’s in 2008: upbeat, positive, and non-combative. I will always follow the optimist who speaks of hope and empowerment rather than fanning fear through ignorance.

I have voted for the Liberals in past Federal elections (never ever in provincial), but this time the candidate dropped out so I had to reconsider my options. I thought I’d go one way until I was actually looking at the ballot. My eye scanned the list in search of the name I wanted, but got stuck at the halfway mark and in the end, I chose that candidate.

Canada will always be run by the Liberals or the Conservatives. The NDP’s disappointment at losing half the seats won in the last election strikes me as willful naivete. Surely they realize that the seats won in 2011 were those that would have gone to the Liberals had the Liberals not self-destructed prior to the campaign. All that happened this time round was the restoration of Liberal support to a resurrected party under the next generation.

Duh.

Perhaps not so strangely, many folks I know said afterward that they did something similar to me—while voting NDP in their ridings, all are pleased enough with the Liberal win. The big numbers tensed a few jaws, but hey, minority or majority, let’s see what the pup can do. My older sister nailed it when she told me of her confidence in Justin representing us on the world stage. Canada lost so much ground under Stephen Harper. Now is our chance to regain our reputation as a nation of good neighbours who care more about the environment and each other than we do about preserving the wealth of industrial magnates worldwide.

Speaking of which … my one regret is that our shiny new PM will not get a chance to work with the current US President. Together, they might have been magic.

To Vote or Not to Vote

It shouldn’t be a question.

I have as much faith in politicians as I do in television evangelists. The US President has proven that a good man can be completely ineffective when he rises too high in the ranks. I believe that many people get into politics for the right reasons, but once they’re in, they find themselves trapped in a dysfunctional system that thwarts any effort to change it for the better.

This does not mean that we should give up trying.

All over town, I’m seeing the word “Harper” stencilled onto STOP signs. I laugh at them, but I know it’s no joke. It’s time for a change. Voting to get someone out of office, however, takes as much thought as voting to get someone in. If I back the wrong horse, I could help to split the opposition and result in another run for the baddies. It may be a minority run, but they’ll still be on the wrong side of the House.

It could be wiser to support the party with the best chance of ousting the incumbent. A new minority government might be at the mercy of a coalesced opposition (assuming that Harper can work with anyone outside of his party), but they will be new. As in different.

Or perhaps I should vote for the party whose platform best matches my concerns. A perfect match won’t be likely, but I’m good with the best of seven. I’m a single woman who owns no property and is close to retirement, who believes that arts programs are critical to the health and well-being of society, that health care should include proactive practices such as homeopathy and acupuncture, that a gay couple is entitled to the same rights and privileges as a straight couple, and that education should be fully-funded. Our children are our future, after all, and the means to pay for schooling does not ensure that the brightest minds apply. And the environment is in dire need of nurturing, rather than being subjected to ongoing abuse for industrial gain.

Whatever my objective, on October 19, I am going to vote.

Being a single woman who owns no property, there was a time in the not so distant past when I would not have been allowed to vote at all. This is important, but it’s not my motivation. Neither is the fact that wars have been fought and blood has been shed to ensure that democracy prevails. Nope, I am haunted by the provincial election that put Gordon Campbell in office for a third, count ’em third, term as Premier of BC.

In that election, the majority of voters voted Liberal. I couldn’t believe it. Granted, Victoria is an NDP stronghold, but still, everyone in BC sounded like they were fed up with this guy and his Trump-sized ego. Even his own caucus was tired of him, yet the majority re-elected him?

It’s all in the wording. He was re-elected by the majority of voters, not the majority of eligible voters. It turned out that fewer than half of those registered BCers who were reportedly sick of him didn’t even bother to turn out on election day. So, His Royal Heinie got in by the grace of less than one quarter of those who were empowered to vote him out of a job.

Three-quarters of us got what we deserved. The rest of us tried, but were overwhelmed by those who exercised their hard-fought right to choose their government body.

You have a voice. Use it. Even if your candidate loses, you will have had your say.

October 19, 2015. Vote. Please.

Civic Duty

The first signs sprouted some weeks ago: Elect John Doe or Re-Elect Average Joe.

I asked Ter: “Is there an election coming?”

“Must be,” she replied.

“When is it?”

She shrugged, as unsure as I was. Being BC government employees, our level of awareness starts at the provincial level and works up toward the federal. Since neither of us owns property, we had assumed—wrongly, as it happens—that we couldn’t vote in a civic election.

This round was different for many reasons. The campaigning was more evident, for one thing. Candidates were all over the place, going door-to-door, handing out pamphlets on street corners, telephoning folks to ask for support or, at the very least, to encourage people to get out and vote on November 15. The mayoral incumbent was the one who told me that anyone who’s lived in town for six months is eligible to vote. Armed with that information, I resolved to pay more attention.

Even if I hadn’t bothered, I still took a couple of phone calls from one candidate’s campaign office, and encountered a wannabe city councilor on a street corner during a lunch break last week. I sussed out the signs in the ’hood, getting a sense of which way my neighbours would go. I didn’t go to any debates or meetings, and I didn’t look at any websites, but the proximity to Remembrance Day compelled me to show up on the day. I can vote because people have fought and died to make it my right. There are yet pockets in the world where people are still fighting and dying for the same right. Next time, I’ll be more involved in the process, I’ll look at the issues and decide who best aligns with my own, but this round was strictly a learning experience.

When completely ignorant, I generally rely on the advice of people I know. The MLA for whom I usually vote was advocating for a few candidates, so I decided to go with them. On Election Day, I presented myself at the polling station and was mildly boggled at the number of council seats available. Up to eight names here, three there, another three here—oh, and just one for mayor, thank you very much. Phew. That one I could handle, ’cause I’d already made up my mind.

But I looked very hard at another name on the ballot. Pick that one, something said.

I balked, suddenly uncertain. My pen actually hovered over the other name and I almost, almost, heeded the small voice. In the end, I went with my original decision and went away wondering if I had made the right choice after all. As the results came in later that night, I felt the niggling tug of regret, that I had goofed and should have gone with my gut rather than my head.

Fortunately, the election was won by the candidate for whom I did not vote. I’m happier about that than I would have been had my guy won. But here’s the really weird thing:

This morning, I told Ter what happened to me at the critical moment. She didn’t even blink as she said that the exact same thing had happened to her—only she followed her little voice and voted against her original decision. The final result was determined by fewer than 100 votes. Mine was not one of them, but that’s okay. Ter’s was. She and a handful of others tipped the scale, and for whatever reason, someone new has the top job at City Hall.

Each one of us makes a difference. Every one of us matters. We are all connected. Nothing happens to one that does not affect others, be it a family, a neighbourhood, a town, a country, or the whole big blue planet. You think you don’t matter? Think again. Think beyond yourself and you’ll see.