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  • A Waning Taste For Politics

    Lughnasa                                      Waning Artemis Moon

    Bob Feemster owned the Alexandria Times-Tribune which my father served as editor for many years.  In 1951 Bob bought us a black and white TV because the believed newspaperman should be aware of this new media.  My earliest memory of television and politics comes from watching that little TV in the 1952 race between Stevenson and Eisenhower.  A Democratic household, we were pulling for the Unitarian Stevenson against the former General of the Armies, Eisenhower.

    This  was long before news organization using exit polling and computer modeling to declare victors.  The actual number of votes was what mattered and they showed up at different points in time.  The far west results didn’t begin to come in until midnight or so.  Dad let me stay up and watch the election returns with him.  Of course, it was partly staying up late at night that intrigued me, but I had also caught my father’s passion for the process.  What would happen?

    You know the result.  Far from turning me away from politics, that long ago late night served as a foundation for a life of modest political activism.  You know, student politics in high school, student politics in college, radicalization during the Vietnam war era and engagement since then in various levels and kind of activism from Indiana Presidential politics and Minneapolis City politics to Minnesota state politics, neighborhood politics in Minneapolis as well as community based economic development and a raft of other state and local efforts.

    In some ways politics has been the defining theme of my life.  I’ve been at it, more or less, since that night in 1952.  Rarely I have gone for more than a year without some concrete form of political engagement.  When I encounter problems in our broader community, my first thought is of a political response, how to organize it, where to start.

    But.  I’m losing my taste for it.  Why?

    These days I work on political issues related to environmental concerns.  I have a responsible position in a large Minnesota organization with a track record for achieving change at both the state and national levels.  My role is directly political in that I serve as a sort of manager for the organizations legislative work.  My passion for a peaceful, verdant, and just world (as some foundation says) is not less than it has been.  So, what’s the problem?

    It may be broadly an analytical problem.  That is, my political work has a good deal of calculation attached to it. Analysis of political realities and the nature of changes we want often conflict.  The political path is the one on which something can be made to happen.  This puts the work largely in my head, when my motivation comes largely from my heart.  Over the years, now the many years, of political work, I have learned dispassionate detachment perhaps too well.

    The work no longer serves as a vehicle for my passion.  Where has that passion gone?  Into art and writing.  When I have downtime, art comes to mind.  The world of art has drawn me, given me space for my passion and an arena in which to share that passion.  Writing has done the same.  I even have a passion for the Latin work I’m about to start up again.  But, no longer for politics.

    This is a difficult place for me to be.  It feels as if I’m denying a part of myself or about to become irresponsible.  However, here’s what I’ve concluded.

    When I pressed my way into the Sierra Club’s work a few years ago, I did it through the political committee, which seemed the natural fit for me.  Long experience in non-profit organizations and in political contexts have given me skills that helped me move up in the organization’s leadership.  Yet it feels increasingly like a burden.  I wonder now whether this work with the Sierra Club isn’t a regression like my return to the UU ministry.

    Regressions, my analyst told me, occur because there is something you need to retrieve or repair.  In this case it might have been my agency.  Agency is the capacity to have an impact and I wondered, when I reengaged with the Sierra Club, if I still had it.  Yes.  The answer is yes.  A more important question now, however, is this:  Do I need to assert my agency at this point in my life?  No.  I don’t.


  • This Is The Question I Face Now. One I Have Not Answered.

    Spring            Waning Seed Moon

    Agency.  There’s been a lot written in psychology and history about agency.  We have agency when we can affect the flow of events in our own lives or in the world around us. (No, I’m not going to get into the subtle no-free-will arguments floating around.)  A lot of the historical work has concerned how those without agency–say women, slaves, workers–get it or why they don’t have it.  In the case of the individual agency refers to our capacity to direct our own life.

    A sense of agency underwrites our sense of self, or our sense of group identity.  Note that our agency or our group’s agency can be positive or negative.  A more negative sense of agency, that is, sensing that others or factors outside your control influence your life or your group, leads to a feeling of diminished capacity or is a feeling of diminished capacity.  A positive sense of agency promotes a feeling of active and successful engagement with the world, the ability to act in ways congruent with your self-interest or your group’s self-interest.

    Here’s where I’m going with this.  In my regression back into the ministry after 8 or so years out I made the move because my writing career had not produced the hoped for results.  I had lost a sense of agency in the work area of my life and moved backwards on my psychological journey to retrieve it.  Going backwards to pick up something left behind is a key element of regression.  Its flaw lies in a return to a previous reality no longer relevant.  The ministy was what I had done, a minister what I had been.  The experience of return to the ministry produced missteps and a low level of energy for the actual work.

    Now, about ten  years later,  once again I have reached back into my past, this time even further, to retrieve a sense of agency, the ur-agency, for me, the political.  This is the work with the Sierra Club. (hmmm.  just realized I did the same thing two years back when I studied Paul Tillich.  That was a return to life as a student, a potent form of agency for me.)

    What the work with the Sierra Club, the study of Tillich and the ministry have in common is an attempt to regain a positive sense of self through a form of agency already well-established and presumably easily recaptured.  None of these activities in themselves is a bad thing, but that is the lure, the  seductive call of regression.

    Back there, if only I could go back in time, and become the captain of the football team again.  Prom queen.  College radio jockey.  The actor I became after college.  My successful years as a bond trader or nurse or carpenter.  Back there I was strong, able.  I had a way with the world, a position of respect and self-confidence. Continue reading  Post ID 7623