Outside my window, somewhere down the street, the cords to one of my neighbors’ flagpoles is blowing around, clanking insistently metal against metal over the light traffic noise. As someone raised in coastal New England, the sound of cords and lines banging against metal flagpoles (reminiscent of ships’ masts) brings up an enormous amount of associations for me. I won’t bore you with all of that, but I will tell you that one association that’s right in the front of my brain is the Kennedy family (ensconced for years in the cape Cod town of Hyannisport). The image, example, complexity, hubris, light, and dark of this clan has always had a strong influence on my little American subculture. And it’s all wrapped up in this dream, this sort of collective unconscious so many of us have (us white folk at least) of a certain type of great white father, like the Kennedy’s are a family full of Jimmy Stewarts or Gregory Pecks, if you get my meaning.
Elegance, wisdom, athleticism, ego, playfulness, humility, faith, appetite, command, humor, seriousness. A whole set of manly ideals to feast upon. A sense of unbridled potential that we can all get motivated by and try and emulate. And then the family has its corresponding set of superlative feminine dreamscapes, too, which exerted enormous influence over the Kennedy men.
With so many layers of meaning to the Kennedy’s and such fuel for the American imagination, I understand why the glowing eulogies have been pouring off many a keyboard today. Virtually every listserve I belong to has sent me a remembrance of some kind and they all fall prey to idealization (something Ted himself resisted when eulogizing his brother, Robert). But even with my deep New England affinities, I feel this fight in me to sober up and let Ted Kennedy and all he represents flow entirely across the movie screen that sits inside my head. Oh, that dangerous movie screen. How it fills me with longings that both augment and overpower certain realities.
A few of these realities, both good and distressing:
- Ted Kennedy honestly cared about his fellow citizens – this is rare in an elite politician
- He was a defining force in some of the best legislation passed by the government after WWII – Title IX, the disabilities act, children’s health, lowering the voting age, meals on wheels, sanctions against the Apartheid regime in South Africa – and he openly opposed some of the worst, including the authorization for the invasion of Iraq
- Although he cared and reached out to fellow citizens, he had an intrinsically top-down approach to democracy, which puts him squarely in the mainstream of U.S. Senators, both past and present – grassroots were not something he cultivated with any gusto
- He came to the Senate during a period (one that still arguably endures) in which the legislative branch of our government was atrophying and ceding its power (and, as a result, the people’s power) to multinational corporations, the military industrial complex, and the executive branch.
His work didn’t attempt to significantly change that unfortunate trajectory. For instance, he never really contributed to a power bloc or coalition that could have amassed real progressive power (even though he worked well across the aisle, individually). Essentially, Ted worked great from the inside, which, while impressive, is never a real game changer when it comes to power dynamics. Over time, he made his peace with the forces that control politicians, got in bed with his share of corporate interests, and worked within the narrow parameters of those interests much of the time
I found this comment by “Hugh” on a thread at FireDogLake yesterday and it reminded me that Kennedy took his share of contributions from health care firms and biotech in Massachusetts, which impacted his policy proposals:
“We should remember too that Kennedy's version of a healthcare plan had mandates and state exchanges and maintained the system of private insurers. There was a commitment to a public plan but with the details concerning it left up in the air. What Kennedy was proposing is essentially what we are seeing with Obamacare, with only perhaps a slightly greater emphasis given to the public option.”
- The dude liked to party. Hard. There’s no doubt it affected his work. He was saucy. Tales of his interest in young women (and a certain freedom with his hands) abound. The man had demons and appetites. And, as an elite person in this society, he was empowered to wrestle with them in ways that would send most of us to jail (let’s face it, if you or I had driven off that bridge on Chappaquidick, we would’ve been prosecuted on DUI, reckless endangerment, involuntary manslaughter, leaving the scene of an accident, etc.)
- He helped mitigate many of the abuses, the outrages that damage everyday citizens in a highly bureaucratic society that has institutionalized longstanding systems of power – these contributions are really quite significant, I think. Title IX, which tried to level the playing field for women in collegiate athletics, was a transformative piece of legislation and stars like Lisa Leslie, Mia Hamm, and numerous female Olympians would not exist in the same way without its implementation
- By his very presence, style, and being, he kept alive the idea that politics are connected to our daily lives, and that politics could be engaging, worth the trouble, and that rascals could be thoughtful, stalwart, and spirited…even with a crimson face and a drink in hand
I’m sad that Teddy’s gone. As a New Englander and an American, he was my rascal and I knew
at the end of the day he had a heart. Even so, he was a man. He wielded power better than can
be expected, but not superlatively. His decisions in the final days of his life are proof of it. To quote Hugh again:
There was a considerable amount of hubris in Kennedy seeking to change the rules for who would fill his seat. Kennedy’s cancer and its prognosis were known to him in May 2008. In other words, he had a year and a half to relinguish his office and for a special election to be held. He chose to hold on to it despite his general incapacity and despite the coming healthcare debate and his worsening condition. Now I am sure we can all understand why he would want to hold on but it was not a wise decision.
But still, Ted Kennedy got up and made the effort, every day. He could have
just been a lawyer and gone sailing and lived the good life all his days. Instead, he tried to do
something. That’s more than a lot of us can say.
And yet there's this darkness that nags at me, even beyond the sobering recognition of Teddy’s imperfections
(which we all share). It’s a feeling that, as good of a senator as he was, he just wasn’t good
enough to make a real dent in the fact that, in key ways, even with all the outcomes of all of the
various human rights movements, America is an uglier place, a less free place than it was when
Teddy entered the Senate. And I know it’s not fair to lay that at the doorstep of one man. But the
feeling is there, and it hurts.
So, now I’ve got my illusions lying here on the ground. And I guess that’s as it should be. I’m raising my glass tonight to Teddy as the credits roll in my mind.
