Or wherever elephants live. As best I can tell from wikipedia, they don't really have dens or anything. So, it's a mixed metaphor. Sorry.

My main point, though, is to tell you about this amazing, terrifying thing I did. So, I was at the Washoe County Republican convention on Saturday. I don't really identify myself as a Republican, but I changed my Independent status to Republican in order to vote for Ron Paul in the Nevada caucus. While I have some considerable reservations about Ron Paul, in particular his stance against federally guaranteed equal rights for gay and lesbian people, I feel like he's our only hope of getting rid of the Patriot Act and the Farm Subsidy Act, and of getting us out of Iraq quickly. I feel pretty passionate about these things (I'm hoping to do entries on them soon), so I went to the caucus and ended up a county delegate.

The convention left me with a lot to think and write about, but I'm just starting with the best part. Toward the beginning, we were voting on several resolutions about officially expressing gratitude to people and groups. They are purely symbolic, and I initially felt that they weren't worth worrying about.

But, the chairman made this big point about reading Resolution #1 aloud. It's final form reads as follows:

WHEREAS, The United States military is engaged in protecting our country from the forces of global terrorism;

WHEREAS, These soldiers are stationed in remote and hostile areas of the world; and

WHERAS, Our men and women of the U.S. military are fighting for our wellbeing; and to keep the war from being fought on our soil;

RESOLVED, That the Washoe County Republican Central Committee wishes to expresss our heartfelt gratitude and support to all American troops, and their families, serving bravely in foreign lands and at home.

(Incidentally, after the motion to add the part about their families, someone did make a motion to fix the “and their families” part so that it didn't come across that we meant that the families were serving bravely in foreign lands. But the group couldn't really be bothered with such trivialities.)

This resolution was wildly and nearly universally applauded when it was read. It, of course, horrified me. I'm a pacifist, in the sense that I'm doing everything I can to create a world where militaries are not necessary. Still, I believe that we need a military right now, and I very much appreciate the women and men who are in our military and imperilling themselves for the benefit of others. Still, this resolution horrified me. The part about how our military is protecting us from the forces of global terrorism struck me as ridiculous. How could us throwing our weight around in an oil-rich middle eastern country do anything but bolster the forces of global terrorism? And the part about keeping the war from being fought on our soil struck me as ridiculously funny. I mean, yes, I believe wholeheartedly that if our foreign intelligence agency wasn't working it's tail off, there would be terrorist attacks here all the time. But the idea that the people toting guns in Iraq (I'll leave off Afghanistan for now; that's more complicated) are somehow keeping people from attacking us here seems unlikely to the extreme. The thing that seemed funniest to me, though, was the way it was phrased. 'Keep the war from being fought on our soil' just sounds so overblown and dramatic, a manipulative ploy to the patriotic sympathies of people ruled by their emotions rather than their intelligence.

Jokes aside, though, since I do really appreciate the sacrifices that the people in our military are making so that we can have a military while we need one, I feel really angry about how those people's sacrifices are being squandered. The bravery, loyalty, selflessness, and lives of our soldiers is an incredibly precious resource. The idea that we're just spending it thoughtlessly in Iraq for oil or ego or politics fills me with sadness and indignation.

I decided that I couldn't just sit through the passing of this resolution. I wanted to chicken out, telling myself it would pass regardless. But I though about how I would feel if I left without saying anything, about how many times my mentor has talked about how crucial it is to take a stand and be heard. Trembling, with a shaking voice, I said, “While I admire these people's bravery and heart, I don't believe that what we're doing over there is making us safer from global terrorism or protecting us from a war on our soil.” (Or something really close to that, I don't remember it verbatim.)

Most people boo'd, and a guy sitting near where I was standing even flipped me off. But that was OK, because I had known what I was getting into. I actually felt kind of good getting that reception.

The thing that surprised me was that five or six people came up to me afterwards and thanked me for saying something. A young woman said that she had wanted to say something but had been too scared. Even though I was still trembling ten minutes later, I'm so glad I said something. It felt even more important than dying my hair blue.

Update: I made it into the paper! OK, not by name, but what I did. Check it out (the part about me is at the bottom):
http://news.rgj.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080316/NEWS/803160357/1321

My hubby and I are throwing a different sort of 4th of July party this year. Every 4th of July, I end up feeling all depressed, because I see all these people getting all jingoistic and swaggering around about what an awesome example of democracy the US is without doing anything to further democracy or to fight against creeping authoritarianism and the scary things happening in our country. So, I thought this year, I could assemble a group of intelligent, thoughtful people who would like to come to my place and discuss issues like patriotism, democracy, social justice, and peace. My little part for reinvigorating genuine political and social discourse as an integral part of our culture and political system. Also, we'll eat BBQ and drink beer and other traditional 4th of July beverages.

A couple of my local friends have insisted that we pick up the party as it gets on toward evening and caravan down to Lake Tahoe where (I've heard) they have awesome fireworks set to music. Or perhaps we won't all caravan down there, but the party will be early enough in the afternoon to allow for that.

Another exciting element of this party is (optional) costumes! I think I'll be dressing up as a wiretap. I'll certainly be dressing up as something, hoping others will feel emboldened to dress up as well. My husband will almost certainly not be dressing up, so the more reserved guests will feel emboldened to come without a costume, too.

In a fit of schoolmarmish enthusiasm, I've also been thinking about providing some suggested reading to sort of provide a common theme for our thinking and discussion at the party. I was considering maybe one of the Federalist papers (what was the one that provided such an eloquent argument against party politics?), the text of the Patriot act, and maybe a book about global poverty or the global water crisis. But these are just ideas off of the top of my head. Any other ideas?

I decided to just jump in and start e-mailing my friends as part of my continued quest toward self-expression. I've been wanting to do something like this for several years, but have always waited until I could do it 'right,' with an organized guest list and the reading material all carefully selected. It feels powerful just to declare the damn thing as happening and to let it come into shape gradually.

If you somehow found this blog and aren't one of the people whom I e-mailed about this party and you're like, 'Wow! I'm so the kind of person who would be into a party like this! I should go, and be DancingSinging's new awesome friend! And I happen to live in or near Reno!' then post your e-mail address in the comments and I'll e-mail you. You can give me your real-life name and I'll do exhaustive research to make sure you're not a creepy stalker or serial killer, and then you can come and we'll be bffs. It'll be sweet.