Tag Archives: human rights

On Being a “Carter Democrat”

Jimmy Carter served as our nation’s 39th president from January 20, 1977 to January 20, 1981. I voted for him in 1976 and again in 1980. During his presidency and for a number of years after that, when asked about my political affiliation, I identified myself as a “Carter Democrat.” Today, October 1, 2024, Carter turns 100. For many, his contributions to global health and progress since his presidency have been even more impressive than his accomplishments while in office. In 1982, Jimmy and his wife Rosalynn co-founded the non-profit Carter Center. In 2002, Carter was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for his persistent efforts to promote global health and to encourage peaceful solutions to difficult problems worldwide. For over 30 years, Jimmy and Rosalynn spent at least a week each year helping build quality low-cost housing with non-profit Habitat for Humanity. 

Since the beginning of the 21st century, my political trajectory has gradually diverged from official designation as a big-d “Democrat.” Turned off by increasingly shrill campaign entreaties and demonization of “the other side” from both major political parties, I now have “no political party affiliation.” However, I keep my voter registration up to date. I make it a point to vote in local, state, and national elections if at all possible, sometimes even voting absentee from places outside the U.S.

How I became a “Carter Democrat” and why I still consider myself one involves both timing and geography. In 1968, I cast my first vote in a presidential election for Richard Nixon. I believed his promises to help extricate the U.S. from involvement in the war in far-off Vietnam that his predecessor Lyndon Johnson had escalated. Partway through Nixon’s first term, in 1971, I moved from Baltimore to Vermont. I’d secured a job in its small capital city of Montpelier. The early 1970’s saw a lot of social ferment, along with burgeoning interest in caring for our natural environment. I was part of a trend of young, childless adults aiming to “go back to the land” after disenchantment with urban life.

Vermont was at the forefront of environmental legislation, including a 1970 comprehensive land use program, “Act 250,” designed to maintain Vermont’s rural flavor and natural beauty while allowing for economic growth. A different law passed at about the same time instituted graduated “pay to pollute” fees on companies who discharged waste into Vermont’s waterways. These legislative actions struck me as pragmatic efforts to deal with complex problems—rather than outright prohibitions, using financial incentives/disincentives to promote more environmentally sensitive behavior by both individuals and businesses. 

As Nixon’s first term progressed, I lost confidence in his Vietnam policies. By 1972, I had become thoroughly discouraged about the lack of U.S. progress there. I also thought Nixon insensitive on environmental matters, though in 1970 he had signed into law the National Environmental Policy Act after it had overwhelmingly passed both houses of Congress.

So in 1972, I voted for Democrat George McGovern. President Nixon won reelection in a landslide, though, with over 60% of the popular vote and all but two jurisdictions’ electoral votes. Meanwhile, my idyll in Vermont proved short-lived due to unemployment and underemployment. Late 1973 found me and my husband spending our severance pay on a low-budget trip down the Mississippi River valley in our small pickup truck. We were trying to put our lives back together, to figure out what to do next. 

Globally, in 1973-74 a group of oil exporting nations reduced their production levels and paused oil exports to the U.S. to retaliate for U.S. support of Israel in 1973’s Arab-Israeli war. This caused an “oil shock,” with the average price of gasoline rapidly rising over 30%. The crisis caught up with my husband and me when we were in a part of Louisiana with huge concentrations of refineries and oil transport facilities. Still, gasoline supplies were short. Tempers, too. Local gas stations sprouted long lines. Late autumn temperatures soared, threatening A/C-induced blackouts in an oil-dependent electricity grid. We were somewhat shaken by this evidence of American vulnerability to “oil blackmail.” Meanwhile, Nixon’s first vice president, former Maryland governor Spiro Agnew, was in December 1973 forced to resign after being charged with conspiracy, bribery, and tax evasion. Nixon quickly nominated Michigan Congressman Gerald Ford as Vice President. Ford was just as quickly confirmed by his Congressional colleagues. 

Partway through 1974, my husband and I found good-paying jobs in the mid-sized American city of Richmond, Virginia, where my younger sister then lived and had provided us with temporary housing. We gradually put the trauma of our job reversals and subsequent relocations behind us. Then came the Watergate scandal and Nixon’s August resignation from the presidency. It flummoxed me why someone who’d won reelection so convincingly would turn out to have been a cheat who’d tried to undermine the other party’s campaign. During Congressional hearings, Nixon’s efforts to distance himself from a botched June, 1972 break-in at the Democratic National Committee in Washington, D.C. gradually collapsed. My faith in our electoral system took a hit. Gerald Ford became president. 

By 1975, I was no longer paying much attention to national politics. I focussed instead on buying our first home, starting a family. I didn’t think Ford was a bad President, but I was troubled by his pardon of former President Nixon. When Jimmy Carter won the Democratic nomination for President in 1976, I was ready for a fresh face, a fresh approach. After all Nixon’s lies and evasions, Carter’s assertion that “I will never lie to you” sounded doubly refreshing. Our older son was born as Carter began his campaign; our younger son arrived partway through his term. I struggled to stay informed about local, state, and national issues while changing diapers and dreaming of some day reentering the paid work force. 

When the winter of 1976-77 turned out to be more severe than most, Carter’s early “fireside chat” (February 2, 1977) calling for energy conservation and small, shared sacrifices resonated with me. My earlier experience of two Vermont winters had given me considerable respect for the vagaries of weather. Richmond, Virginia typically has mild winters, but I’d made sure to install multiple sources of heat in our house—gas, electricity, plus an efficient wood stove in our largest room. I supported Carter’s efforts to diversify the American energy supply.

In the late 1970’s I continued my efforts to become a more responsible energy user. I improved our house’s insulation, grew more of our own food, increased my use of public transportation. A second “oil shock” in the wake of the 1979 Iranian Revolution impacted me less than most. I hoped people would recognize our need to reduce our nation’s oil dependence and to become better environmental stewards. I did my best to follow Carter’s lead, even when it involved some material sacrifice. To my dismay, the combination of energy difficulties, high inflation and unemployment, plus a lengthy U.S. hostage crisis in Tehran destroyed Carter’s chances for a second term. In 1980, former California governor Ronald Reagan handily defeated Carter with just over 50% of the popular vote in a 3-way race.  

If Carter was disappointed at his loss, he soon regrouped. Rather than stew over his defeat or attempt to persuade others that the 1980 election was “stolen,” he turned his considerable energies toward improving the lives of the world’s least fortunate. Over the years, the Carter Center has launched initiatives to reduce or eliminate six preventable diseases common in tropical climates. It is closing in on the elimination of guinea worm disease, having reduced the incidence of this debilitating parasitic infection from an estimated 3.5 million cases in 1986 to just 4 reported cases so far in 2024. Since 1989, the center also has monitored elections in 40 countries after having been invited in by the major political parties participating in those elections.   

from a Carter Center brochure

The 2024 U.S. election will mark my 15th presidential election cycle. By now I have cast the majority of my presidential election votes. I’ve supported winning candidates about half the time. I have lived through several policy reverses that I wish had not happened. Through it all, I’ve maintained a sense of hope and a belief in the importance of sound, sensible environmental stewardship. It seems to me, as it did to Carter nearly fifty years ago, that a transition to more responsible energy use is needed. I believe that a transition to renewable energy sources will continue, regardless of the 2024 election outcome. Eventually, regardless of who occupies the White House or any other country’s leadership, the world’s oil and coal reserves will be depleted. 

However, ingenuity and regard for our fellow humans and for the natural world that supports us are the ultimate renewable resource. Amidst all the hubbub and negativity, it’s important to avoid pointing fingers. It’s important to stay engaged. Democracy has always been an experiment, with some failures along with its successes.

Jimmy Carter’s faith is at the root of who he is as a person, regardless of any political position he might hold. I appreciate the bywords of this white evangelical, Naval Academy graduate, former nuclear submarine engineer, former peanut farmer, and former president from the rural U.S.: “My faith demands that I do whatever I can, wherever I am, whenever I can, for as long as I can with whatever I have to try to make a difference.”

I’m proud to have been a “Carter Democrat.” Mr. Carter, may your persistence and long-range vision continue to inspire those of us not yet to the century mark. Happy, Happy Birthday!    

The Firebrand and the First Lady

The Firebrand and the First Lady     —by Jinny Batterson

The Firebrand and the First Lady: Portrait of a Friendship, published early in 2016, was written long after the deaths of its protagonists, Anna Eleanor Roosevelt and Anna Pauline Murray. Eleanor Roosevelt was the niece of President Theodore Roosevelt and the activist wife of her distant cousin, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. She continued in her own right after her husband’s death. Pauli Murray was an activist, organizer, lawyer, writer, and eventually a priest. She dealt with the double whammy of discrimination for being black and female in a time that undervalued both.

Just after the title page, author Patricia Bell-Scott introduces the two women through quotations taken from their extensive writings and correspondence. The first listed entry, from Pauli Murray, was published over 20 years after Mrs. Roosevelt’s death in the journal of Murray’s university, The Hunter Magazine:

“For me, becoming friends with Mrs. Roosevelt was a slow, painful process, marked by sharp exchanges of correspondence, often anger on my side and exasperation on her side, and a gradual development of mutual admiration and respect.” 

Mrs. Roosevelt’s initial quotation came from an article, “Some of My Best Friends are Negro,” published in the magazine Ebony in 1953:

“One of my finest young friends is a charming woman lawyer—Pauli Murray, who has been quite a firebrand at times but of whom I am very fond.”

Over three hundred well-researched pages chronicle their developing friendship during the years when the two women’s lives intersected, and then the years after Mrs. R.’s death when Murray continued to write, speak, work for social justice, and honor Mrs. R.’s legacy.   

The two were born a generation apart—Roosevelt in 1884, Murray in 1910–to economic and social circumstances that could hardly have been more different. However, the emotional traumas of their early lives were similar. Both lost parents at a tender age. Both were shunted among relatives and schools throughout their teens.

Mrs. Roosevelt first encountered Pauli Murray on a visit to an upstate New York camp for unemployed single women in 1934 or 1935.  Murray had gone there during the depths of the Great Depression to help regain her strength after a couple of years of intermittent employment in New York City. Mrs. Roosevelt had helped finance the camp. She had insisted that it be racially integrated. During the first lady’s visit, Murray hung back and said nothing, later getting scolded by the camp director for her lack of manners.

The two women next interacted when Murray copied “Mrs. R.” on an impassioned 1938 letter to FDR criticizing his spotty civil rights record, especially his recent speech praising “liberal” University of North Carolina, which repeatedly rejected Murray’s graduate student application on racial grounds.

By the early days of 1940, Murray was executive director of a non-profit highlighting the problems of sharecroppers. She and several colleagues had a chance to meet with Mrs. Roosevelt in Mrs. R.’s Manhattan apartment. From then on, the two women carried on an irregular but spirited correspondence for the rest of their mutual lives. Mrs. R. helped when she could with some of Murray’s causes, but cautioned restraint, occasionally even upbraiding Murray’s brashness.

When Murray graduated from Howard Law School in June, 1944, ER sent a congratulatory note and a bouquet. When FDR died in April, 1945, Murray sent Mrs. R. a lengthy condolence: “…There is not one I’ve seen who has not expressed a physical illness over the disaster which has befallen each individual American today. …I pray for your strength and fortitude, because we all need you more than ever now.”   

ER went on to chair a U.N. commission that developed and got General Assembly approval for a Universal Declaration of Human Rights in 1948. She worked at the U.N. for several more years, then continued writing, speaking, and humanitarian work until her death in 1962.

Murray offered this public tribute at a 1982 conference celebrating Mrs. Roosevelt’s life:

“I learned by watching her in action over a period of three decades that each of us is culture-bound by the era in which we live, and that the greatest challenge to the individual is to try to move to the very boundaries of our historical limitations and to project ourselves toward future centuries. Mrs. Roosevelt … did just that.”

Murray attended a 1984 conference celebrating the centennial of ER’s birth, but was hospitalized soon afterward with serious health problems.  She died in 1985.

If the delay in publishing The Firebrand and the First Lady partly resides in the meticulous scholarship to track down sources and verify quotations, it seems to me that the timing of the book’s release is providential. It comes as this year’s U.S. Presidential campaign intensifies. One of the chief actors is a former first lady with extensive qualifications of her own. It comes at a time when LGBT communities, of which Murray was a closeted member, are becoming more insistent on full citizenship. It comes as we approach this year’s celebration of Mother’s Day, when we acknowledge both our physical mothers and those who have nurtured and challenged us, in the best tradition of Anna Eleanor Roosevelt and Anna Pauline Murray.