Worthy Stuff

Susan Edition

Hello!

Today’s newsletter comes to you on the winds of change. I spend my summers in MN because all my kids/grands are here (beware of raising your children in places you don’t necessarily want to end up yourself! They’ll mistake it for home…) I observed many years ago that around August 10 in this part of the world, a day comes where I step outside and say, Oh. Hello, fall.

Exciting August here! Not only do we have Suni Lee and the State Fair (fried-everything & cookie buckets), we’re a bit drunk on all-things-Tim-Walz! Get your MN State Fair food vinyl sticker here.

It’s not that the weather has changed, it’s that the light has. There’s a different slant to it, a brittleness—it glances off things that were soaking in it just a few days ago. It happened again this week. As I write this, I look out my window and can’t help but notice my beloved tree seems to know what’s coming.

I can also see this out the window—today is our MN primary.

It’s been a strange few weeks in the US—politically, the world’s turned upside down, and no matter how you feel about our politics generally and our candidates specifically, I think most everyone probably senses change is afoot and is paying attention. I hope you’re enjoying the surge of energy and urgency as much as I am.

I’m a political junkie, raised to be so from the time I was a kid. The grandfather to whom I was extremely close lived and breathed it. He worked and hobbied around politics all his life, and we often had an ice cream bet riding on the election. I lost the year Jimmy Carter won—can’t tell you now why I had no faith in Jimmy—and I remember so well riding in the red Pontiac to buy that .25 cent ice cream cone with my babysitting money (a whole hour’s wages).

My grandpa CA “Tabby” Grant, seen here in his role as Utah Sen. Frank Moss’s (1959-1977) campaign manager

My other grandfather was a cynic/armchair philosopher who didn't put much stock in politicians, but sure had opinions about them. In fact, when he learned that a good friend was planning to run for local public office, he responded: I didn’t even know he was a crooked son-of-a-b!tch!

These grandfathers lived on opposite sides of the political aisle, and account for the mixed-faith political marriage of my parents. Politics was so often the topic du jour at our dinner table. No one ever changed sides as a result of those conversations, but we loved stirring the family pot.

This week a NYT opinion piece by feminist writer Roxane Gay grabbed my eye. Until a few weeks ago, I was guilty of a real lack of imagination, convinced my country was still at least one election cycle from seriously entertaining the idea of putting a woman at the helm. (Here’s a gift link to the article, if you’re interested.) Ms. Gay said something I haven’t been able to stop thinking about:

But. To imagine extravagant things is to want extravagant things. We have become so accustomed to mediocre political choices that we have forsaken the idea of sweeping change. I understand why. We often forestall hope by detailing, at length, why the change we most want to see will never happen.
[…]
The political class is firmly entrenched in believing we cannot change the system; we must merely endure it. But what if change really is possible now — not in four years, or eight or beyond?

It’s an interesting thought politically, but even more interesting when I put it in the context of the current reality of our lives as Latter-day Saint women. You may remember Cynthia and me talking about how sometimes women are the problem, and I think Ms. Gay has put her finger on it: Convinced we can’t change things, LDS women forestall hope by doubling down on all the reasons change will never happen.