Dear Mr. Elected Official Representing My State House District:
We need to talk about our relationship. We first met when you were first running for that N.C. House District seat in 2012, and we’ve gotten along great over the years. But there was always some vague cloud hanging over our relationship, and a few weeks ago I learned that even though you've always been nice to me, you have not been nice to several other people.
You've been kind of grabby with women and may drink publicly to the point of its being a concern. Several women report publicly that you've actually been a bit more than merely "grabby."But let's be honest in recognizing that "even just a little hugging” and grabbiness are themselves violations unless they’re consensual and of mutual interest between the people involved.
Lately, the mundane activities of an election season have tossed us together at events. You may have noticed that a lot of women avoid you at these events. I'm 100% sure you noticed that *I* have avoided you. It's one of those "It is known" situations ... but we haven't talked about it.
Yesterday you hung around a voting location where I was among the poll greeters for Democratic candidates. True, your being there is one of those "duh" things because you're on the ballot. But it was awkward and uncomfortable (to say the least) for many of us women who were greeting voters when you approached us affably to say hello and just ... well, just hang around. For hours. And hours.
Yes, maybe I should have taken the opportunity to take you aside as a constituent to ask whether we could talk about what's going on. It was a big parking lot and it was never empty, so I could done that. I didn’t—but that doesn’t mean I won’t do it at the next event we’re at.
Yesterday and two weeks ago at a Unity Breakfast sponsored by the Democratic Women of Wake County (ouch! the cynical irony that you were a major donor!!), you definitely noticed that our interactions were chilly. After I, as an event greeter that day, flinched when you leaned in to hug me, you were visibly hurt and said, “Kim, I’m not going to cause any trouble.”
Yesterday as I hugged others in the gaggle of poll greeters and candidates at the polling site, I saw your reflexive move to hug me. I didn’t flinch this time, I just moved away. I didn’t see hurt in your eyes this time, though. To be honest, I didn’t see anger, either. I saw a man who recognizes that a valuable lawmaker-constituent bond is irrevocably broken and yet he’s not going to resign or stop campaigning for office. I saw a man who’s ambitious and is taking these rebuffs in stride, because it’s probably just another thing he has to put up with to get where he wants to go.
After a few hours of reflection, I’m left with, "Mr. Elected Official, I get the feeling that I’m the only one of the two of us who's dealing with shoulda-done remorse for that opportunity to address this yesterday.”
Yet is it really up to me? I'm not the one elected to represent constituents; I’m not the one charged with the public trust of tens of thousands of human beings in my neighborhood. I'm one of the people you're supposed to be standing up to protect from criminal acts by elected officials. It's up to you to make the statement, "People of North Carolina and most specifically the residents of the district I represent, we need to talk. Can we do that now before more awkward campaign events increase the divide between us and before my refusal to give up the power I have harms all the other people who might protect you better?”
I want to know why you haven't done that yet. Or even suggested it. I want to know why you haven't taken a sabbatical from your political career to examine the myriad issues involved, engage in some sober self-examination, and consider some perspicacious apologizing? You’ve resigned from some leadership positions at the N.C. General Assembly, but you haven’t resigned your office. Why? What can you possibly gain at this point?
I want to know why you continue to use your experience, power, networks, and position to raise funds that should rightfully go by your primary opponents. Why are you dog-in-the-mangering grassroots-raised campaign funds that aren’t even going to help you win reelection, because when you show up to greet pollers, 51% of your constituents go well out of their way to have to shake your hand? Why are you still working your professional and political contacts to afford all those yard signs and the thrice-daily mailers that illegally imply that you’re endorsed by the Democratic Party? (You’re not, you know, which is why the palm cards you passed out yesterday didn’t feature that blue “D” logo.)
Mr. Elected Official, it's not up to me to initiate this conversation and spare myself the awkwardness and discomfort every time we see each other. It’s not up to me to “do the right thing” by you.
When we do discuss this—and we will discuss this—will I have the guts to tell you it's time to stop publicly pretending that you represent me or my neighbors? I don't know. Yesterday I felt impelled to say exactly that … but I didn’t. Today I'm angry—at myself for failing to say that, yes, but 95% at at you for not explaining your choice to continue serving out your current term and campaigning for another.
I get no signal from you that you want to address the elephant in the room.
And, frankly, North Carolina has far too many elephants in our rooms. Which is why we're in the pickle we're in: a supermajority of elephants who’ve stripped us of voting rights, taken health care from sick children, attached an abortion ban onto a motorcycle insurance law, used racial gerrymandering, demoted LGBTQ populations to a class of humans not even trusted to use a public bathroom …..
But none of that can excuse the donkeys like you who refuse to discuss sexually inappropriate behavior, abuse, harassment, assault, and violation.
Sigh. I can't get through another yesterday with this moral lacuna between us, Mr. Elected Official.
We need to talk.