Editor's Notebook

Community Views

Political Lawn Signs
Bring Out Democracy

We Need To Do More
Than Click The Remote

ALAN HITSKY ASSOC ATE ED TOR

HARLENE APPELMAN SPECIAL TO THE JEWISH NEWS

Lawn signs are
telling me there's
an election coming
up. That could
mean trouble for
me, after the pri-
mary of two years
ago.
It's not that I
don't like lawn
signs. On the contrary, as a red-
blooded American boy I strongly
favor apple pie, motherhood, elec-
tions and freedom of speech. It's
just that I have a reporter's hor-
rible knack for asking one more
question — whose sign?
(That's the same trouble I get
into when it comes to prayer-in-
school — whose prayer?)
The whole elections issue is
starting to get to me. After all, has
the electioneering even paused
since the last time the great mi-
nority stormed to the polls to cast
our ballots?
Minority is the operative word.

taking, of stance-shifting, as our
pols watch the polls more than
they watch the people.
Issues mean nothing anymore.
Getting re-elected means every-
thing. And don't forget the perks,
such as separate rules for Con-
gress on Social Security, pay rais-
es, etc., etc., etc.
It makes you think twice about
voting, especially when you can't
tell one side from the other. Turn-
ing the scalawag out just seems
to put a new scalawag in office.
It wasn't always this way. Or
maybe it was, but the old-style
politicians did a better job of hid-
ing their abuses. Maybe it's the
media's fault today for being
overzealous in its probing — wow,
that's a scary thought. Also, a lit-
tle hard to believe.
I miss some big Michigan po-
litical names from the past: Bill
Milliken, George Romney, Phil
Hart. I did not always agree with
their viewpoints, but at least I

A new crop
in Southfield.

The silent
majority
in this
great de-
mocracy of
ours doesn't vote. Only a few of us
do, and that percentage is dwin-
dling. That's part of the reason
Jewish organizations encourage
their members to vote. In spite of
our numbers — just over 5 million
in the United States — we Jews
traditionally have gone en masse
to the polls. That's why we, like
every other identifiable voting
group, are courted so heavily by
our favorite politicians.
So why are people being turned
off by the political process?
I think it's a matter of trust, or
worse, a lack of integrity. The
Vietnam War has left a scar on
the American psyche that goes
far deeper than I ever imagined.
Since those days in the late '60s
and early '70s, the political land-
scape has changed. Politicians no
longer stand for much. Look at
the increasing importance of poll-

Harlene Appelman is director of

community outreach and
development for the Jewish
Federation of Metropolitan
Detroit.

could trust them. If they changed
their minds on an issue, it wasn't
because of the latest poll. It usu-
ally came after considered think-
ing about what was best for the
electorate, not the electee.
My brand of flag-waving was
thoroughly tested two years ago
when the political sign appeared
on the lawn in front of my neigh-
borhood swim club. I worried that
such a show of partiality would
divide our unanimous member-
ship (the only thing we are unan-
imous about is our demand for
sunny weather and a cool, clean
swimming pool). The sign also
could produce a few more com-
plaints to the local gendarmes
from nearby neighbors who might
be supporting another candidate.
My polite inquiry to the club
manager revealed that the can-
didate was a member and former
president of the club, and our
board had voted to place the sign
in a show of support.
I wrote a letter to the current
club president (and received a
written response two months lat-

er) and mentioned the issue of
nonprofit-organization partisan-
ship to a friend on the board.
"The issue was never discussed
at a board meeting," he said.
Could it be Swimming-Gate?
I thought about Watergate-
style retaliation. It would be easy
enough for me, on my morning
walks with the family pet, to just
kidnap the sign and place it in the
nearby swim-club Dumpster. No,
I had to be more creative. After
all, this is the '90s.
I borrowed two opponents'
signs from neighborhood thor-
oughfares — not from neighbors'
lawns — and placed them even-
ly outside the swim club. It was
democracy at work. Now all three
candidates for that particular of-
fice were equally displayed for the
passing voters. It was public ser-
vice at its best.
The display lasted one day.
Magically, all three signs disap-
peared.
Hurrah, I'd won!
The board had
been convinced!
Democracy,. fair
play, right, free-
dom, and logic had
prevailed! It wasn't
until months later
that my board-
member friend ad-
mitted to me that
he had come back
to the swim club
that night and de-
posited all three
signs in the Dump-
ster.
So much for the
democratic theory.
I was reminded
of this episode two
weeks ago when I
came into The Jewish News.
There in all their pristine new-
ness, on the lawn in front of the
building, were two political signs.
I looked up the street. I looked
down the street. I didn't see any
other signs. Could it be that the
candidates, or their supporters,
would want passersby to believe
they had received the endorse-
ment of the newspaper?
One of the candidates happens
to be an acquaintance. But his
sign, and the other, and two re-
placements that appeared later
in the week, are now resting com-
fortably by the back door of The
Jewish News. They can be picked
up at any time and used else-
where.
The police have yet to arrest
me for my criminal deed. Of
course, this is the first time
they've heard about it. And if they
come calling, it will at least give
me something to write about next
week.
But I prefer to believe that this
is just another instance of democ-
racy at work. ❑

the
'During
month of Elul, we
prepare for the
new year. Each
morning (except
on Shabbat) dur-
ing the month,
the shofar will be
blown as a kind
;
of wake-up call to
begin to take stock.
Inevitably, it is this time of
year when I take stock as a par-
ent. Maybe it's because of tra-
dition or maybe it's because
summer camp and trips are
over and school is starting
again. Whatever the reason, I
find myself thinking about each
young adult (child) living in my
house with the same optimism
with which I used to approach
a new year as a child myself.
Then I begin to look around. My
optimism doesn't fade; but with-
out a doubt, my anxiety in-
creases. It usually takes me a
while to identify the source.
Today, however, it was easy.
My son, having just returned
from working at summer camp,
was somehow able to find the
remote control to our television
set. (I thought I had it well-hid-
den. It makes me carsick when
the male members of my house-
hold start flipping channels.) He
was sprawled on the sofa, re-
mote in hand, searching for en-
tertainment, if not ecstasy.
Suddenly, I thought about
the remote control on the tele-
vision. It was a perfect
metaphor for the source of my
anxiety: We are moral channel
surfers. "Happiness is" — click
— "murdered by his own
daughter" — click — "and now
a word from our sponsor" —
click -"on the 49-yard line" —
click — "I love you" — click —
you love me" — click.
Those sound bites seem to be
a reflection of the choices by
which we are bombarded:
Everything looks either attrac-
tive or terrifying, and there are
certainly many moments when
terrifying has become attrac-
tive.
It is as if we are shopping in
a morals mall: Oh, that looks
good; take a little bit of this; take
a little bit of that. As we blend
the qualities we find in others
with our own, we lose our iden-
tities.
This past spring, I was for-
tunate enough to have heard
Marian Wright Edelman speak
at a college graduation. Her talk
was so powerful that it sent me
to the local bookstore to buy her
volume The Measure of Our
Success.
In it I found the following
passage: "The adults in our
churches and community made
children feel valued and impor-

"

tant. They took time and paid
attention to us. They struggled
to find ways to keep us busy.
And while life was often hard
and resources scarce, we always
knew who we were and that the
measure of our worth was in-
side our heads and our hearts
and not outside in the posses-
sions on our backs. We were told
that the world had a lot of prob-
lems; that black people have an
extra lot of problems, but that
we were obligated to struggle
and change them; that being
poor was no excuse for not
achieving; and that extra intel-
lectual and material gifts
brought with them the privilege
and responsibility of sharing
with others less fortunate. In
sum, we learned that service is
the rent we pay for living. It is
the very purpose of life and not
something you do in your spare
time."
I wonder how many of us be-
lieve in those words; and if we
do, how have we transmitted
them to our children? We get so
busy that I wonder if we have re-
membered to take the time re-
ally to talk to our children about
what is important in life. How
many "what would you do if?"
conversations have we had with
our youngsters? I am convinced
that it is those conversations,
those rehearsals, that enable
young people to take a stand or
make a "good choice." They need
to hear how we made important
choices or how we handled diffi-
cult moral dilemmas.
And they need to know that
many times there is a struggle
involved. These rehearsals are
not necessarily inoculations, but
they may give young people the
strength to demand the truth
in advertising when they find
themselves confronted with the
morals. mall. These conversa-
tions are profoundly Jewish and
they are incredibly appropriate
for this time of year.
On July 17, William Satire,
commentator for the New York
Times, wrote a wonderful essay
that closed with the following
thought: "Jewishness ain't
chicken soup or Israeli politics
or affection for guilt. Jewish
identity is rooted in a distinc-
tive old religion that builds in-
dividual character and group
loyalty through strong family
life. That is how the Jewish peo-
ple have survived through five
millennia and is the light the
Jews — whatever our number
— must continue to offer the
world."
My new year hope for all of
us is that we'll take the time to
have that conversation with our
children (and someone else's,
too). ❑

