How I Became a Politician

It Was This or the Lego Convention; or, How I Got Back Into Politics

On Saturday, August 8, I pulled up to the parking deck at the Renaissance Hotel in downtown Montgomery. The attendant asked, “Are you going to the Lego convention? The spa?”

I sighed, perhaps regretting my life choices. “No, I’m here for the Democrats.”

Exactly one month prior, my friend Alan Thomas, who is running for House District 50, shot me a text asking if I was busy. I was in the depths of writing about Jacques Derrida’s concept of radical hospitality for one of my Ph.D. summer classes. For Derrida, hospitality is ethics, meaning that to be ethical, one must be hospitable. I’ve found this to be a helpful lens for viewing the world, this idea of being a good host and a good guest. I find this to be an especially helpful way to think about America and American Literature: how can we make these spaces more welcoming?

I told Alan I was always busy, which is true, but because I’m nosy, I took his phone call. During the call, Alan asked if I was interested in serving on the State Democratic Executive Committee (SDEC). This was an elected position, but because no one ran for the District 50 Female slot in the primary, vacancies would be filled at the meeting. After the vacancies were filled, a process that I was warned may be contentious, the SDEC would elect new party leadership. This, I was told, would be a long and grueling process, but I was intrigued. I agreed, even though the meeting was the Saturday before school starts and I knew it would contribute to my back-to-school teacher tiredness.

Once I agreed to be nominated, I started attending town halls and meetings with the St. Clair County Democrats. I have met some lovely people at these events, and between that group and the people I met in Montgomery on Saturday, I think that’s what Alabamians can expect if they attend their local county Democratic Party meetings. The Democratic Party, for all its flaws and drama at the top, is at its best, a big tent that is hospitable to all. The big tent is full of passion, and sometimes that results in in-fighting, but if the Democratic Party wishes to be successful, it must be inclusive. Being inclusive means fighting for the freedoms of everyone, especially our most vulnerable and marginalized populations. To win elections, the Alabama Democratic Party must embrace true Southern hospitality. 

Four days before the event, I learned that I might not get the position, even if I was unopposed. If the powers that be determined that they had enough votes without filling vacancies, they might not approve new members. This seemed to be a really inhospitable possibility. Why wouldn’t you want to gather as many likeminded people as possible under this big tent?

Two days before the event, I was told that I might have to give a short speech. This was also something I hadn’t considered, that I might have to give a speech in front of the state’s top Democrats, so I started drafting. As I scrambled for what to say, how to sell myself, I remembered the rhetorical strategies that I teach my students: ethos, logos, pathos. I had to establish credibility, give logical arguments, and make an emotional appeal. 

On the day of the event, I watched as the vacancies in other districts were filled. If a nomination was unopposed, the nominee was automatically in. If more than one person was nominated, each nominee had to give a one-minute speech. After I was nominated by Amber Buck, whom I met doing grassroots organizing in Tuscaloosa a decade ago, another candidate was nominated. The Tuscaloosa contingency had showed out at the beginning of the meeting when Stan Glasscox brought Amber a beer, signaling his understandable frustration with the parliamentary procedure shenanigans that I had been warned would make this meeting long and tedious. It was a Roll Tide moment if I ever saw one.

I was nominated, but everything after was a blur. I had gone up to the front of the room with no phone and no notes. My opponent graciously allowed me to speak first, and I can’t tell you what exactly I said. I know I incorporated ethos by mentioning my decades of experience in education in Alabama and my AEA membership. This is Alabama politics, after all. When I said I was a teacher, someone in the crowd yelled, “Thank you!” I was touched. One thing you can always say about Alabama Democrats is that they really do love Alabama teachers.

I ended my short speech on a passionate note, punctuating with pathos as I teach my students to do. I spoke of my hope for the future of this state, for our kids and the futures they deserve. I meant that. It was an emotional appeal, but it was real emotion. We can’t let the ideas of the past keep us from creating the best possible future for our kids. 

When I finished, people clapped. While my opponent spoke, it dawned on me that future governor Doug Jones, whom I had just seen in the back of the room, had possibly just heard me speak. Just as I can’t tell you what I said, I can’t tell you exactly what she said either, but I was rather impressed with her resume. 

When the votes started, I told myself I was fine with either outcome. As we watched them come in, I knew it would be close. A gentleman leaned over and said, “I think AEA put you over the edge.” When it was announced that I had won, my opponent reached out to shake my hand and congratulate me. As I walked out to the lobby to get my credentials, I was greeted with high fives and fist bumps and well wishes. 

When I told my coworkers about my political aspirations, they asked if I was going to be sworn in on a copy of Leaves of Grass. While there was no actual swearing in, I did have to show my ID, sign in, and get a badge and a vote card. Once I got the vote card, I used it to help decide the future of the Alabama Democratic Party, and I’m honored to be able to continue to do that for the next four years. Between the Youth Caucus and newly elected chair Bobby Singleton, the energy in that room was electric, even after hours and hours of trying to find common ground. Democracy! It still exists!

At the end of the meeting, I was so exhausted that I didn’t even think to sneak by the Lego convention, if they were even still there. Still, the Legos do provide a useful way to think about the Alabama Democratic Party. Do we want to come together to build something great, or do we want to be a big old mess for everyone to step on and kick out of the way? 

Republicans when they have a supermajority

While the Alabama Democratic Party appears to be shifting in a new and exciting direction, I appreciated how both the old guard and the new guard emphasized the importance of unity, and I hope this spirit of unity carries forward. Just as we can learn from our elders, we can learn from our young people. The youth of Alabama have something to say, and we should listen to them, because it’s their future we’re deciding.

I have always been political, but it’s been a long time since I’ve been directly affiliated with the Democratic Party. Like many others, I’ve felt a bit disillusioned with the party and politics in general. The past ten years have been…a lot. The welcoming I have received in these spaces, however, has made me feel like a prodigal daughter coming home. This is how we build movements: by welcoming others, by embracing differences, by listening to each other, and by coming together as people.