The other day, I was called a bleeding heart liberal. But how could that be? I eat meat and have a shoe collection that could rival that of Imelda Marcos. I waste food even though I know there are tiny children starving all around the world (but reheated Chinese food just isn't the same).
I do get sad when I see images of the suffering, and I believe in helping those less fortunate. But a bleeding heart? C'mon.
After the name-calling ceased, I got to thinking about my actual political ideals, not the ones perceived by people who see me swerve past squirrels in the road or make a confused face when the president of the free world stumbles through a speech like his note cards are out of order.
I voted in 2000, but only because Rock the Vote (an MTV crusade) told me to during a commercial break from "TRL." I cast my little say for Al Gore, not because I ardently agreed with his platform, more so because he was a Democrat, and my entire family is Democrats.
It's been mentioned that my dear grandmother would do a 360 in her grave if one of her descendants was to cast a vote toward the elephant. Her yellowed press clippings of President Kennedy, along with a loosely framed sketch of the handsome leader, were among the discovered treasures in a basement of junk, memorabilia, life's incidentals and history.
I decided to find out if the political ignorance was just me (I would rather read up on J-Lo's last marriage than a report on foreign policy) or if it extended upon the majority of my generation. I took a sampling of friends and peers. Now this wasn't scientific, so I don't need political scientists or Young Republicans/Democrats or whatever breathing down my neck.
For the most part, the outcome was bleak. Most people I spoke with who were in their early 20s knew little to nothing about the political state of our nation. They had an opinion about the war or knew who they would vote for (if they voted). But anything you couldn't learn from having the nightly news on once a week in the background wasn't discussed.
We seem to be a politically complacent generation. And so I ask myself why.
I believe it stems from a distrust and a generally unaffected lifestyle. As much as I hate to admit it, if I don't flip on CNN or open a newspaper, I can go about my daily existence, my work, my leisure, my meals, my sleep, without interruption or concern. I guess that is the beauty of living in America -- our lifestyle is easily taken for granted.
These thoughts made me keenly aware of my need to seek an educated opinion, and for a week straight, you couldn't find me without a USA Today in hand, without the earnest-voiced anchors at CNN giving me the nation's lowdown. If I was buckled in, it was NPR's extensive coverage riding shotgun.
It was an information firestorm that proved only to increase my political confusion.
Who was I to believe? What information is true? Who is right? Aren't all politicians just smooth-talking, navy-suit clad salesmen, hocking ideas, beliefs, promises and platforms that I will never see?
I believe that all human beings (and animals) should be given equal opportunity. I believe the key to ousting poverty is education.
I know I get a sick feeling in my stomach when I hear about the rich receiving tax breaks when there are families in our own city who can't feed their children. I guess I am an idealist. I see a simple solution: Rich share with poor and we can even out the world.
Why should one person drive a $50,000 Lexus with heated seats and another use a bicycle? If I were president, we would find a happy medium and all drive Toyota Corollas. Based on that platform, don't look for Buford in 2008.
I am not sure my quest to become politically sound worked. But I do know that come November, you will find me ready to cast my vote, my tiny say in the land of the free. I will be the girl in the voting line reading, in-depth, from her latest People magazine. hk
Kristen Buford is a freelance writer and recent graduate of The University of Kansas. She can be reached at kryssy23@aol.com.
