Dear Readers,

I cannot tell you how psyched I am that the first three conversations I overheard in the D-hall Friday morning were about the VP debate Thursday. In fact, I felt that heady elation that I usually only associate with snow days and good sex. I feel we are at a watershed moment, that America, and our age group in particular, are reengaging in a national dialogue, are sitting up and taking notice, are investing themselves in candidates and in issues. And come November 4th, I get the sneaking suspicion that young peoples, that students, will buck the stereotypes of apathy and malaise sometimes assigned to ua and vote.

So vote. Please vote. Vote til your ballot-checking fingers bleed. Vote like its going out of style. For our nation’s highest offices, for members of legislatures large and small, for your town planning board, for the next open seat in SGA, VOTE. Vote like its American Fuckin’ Idol.

But here’s the catch – voting isn’t enough. Its your unalienable right and delicious obligation as a free citizen of these United States. But we can be more than our vote. Once those politicians are given the keys to their mahogany desk drawers of power, they tend to forget the reasons we put them there in the first place. And that’s where we remind them that they work for us

I guess by this part in the post I should introduce myself. I’m the chair of the EAC’s (Environmental Action Club) Political Organizing Committee – congressional lobbyist, student organizer and practical optimist. And, for once, I’m not here to talk about recycling, climate change or organic deodorant. My partners-in-activism and I will soon be starting regular posts concerning current political issues we think you’ll find interesting from an environmental standpoint (and by environmental we mean involving social justice, economic reform, public health and spotted owls), followed what we can do. What we can do beyond hauling our bleary-eyed selves to the polls on November 4th.

So how do you, you and your student loans and your busy schedule, effect policy and shape your world? By being a good, tough-love boss to those elected officials who are buying groceries and sending kids to college on your tax dollars.

Call. You’re educated, you’re informed, you pick of free copies of the New York Times in D-hall and then leave them on the table covered in ketchup – and so I’m guessing you have opinions. On the bail-out bill, on the farm bill, on renewable energy, on funding for the war, on abstinence-only education, on something, on anything! And the best way to get those opinions across is to call. A lot of people (justifiably) bitch and moan about the State of Things, but surprisingly few pick up the phone and say “I believe…”, “I feel…” and, most importantly, “You should….”. The person has to take down your name, what you’re calling about, and tell their congress(wo)man. Especially if they start receiving a lot of said calls about an issue from, I dunno, you and all your friends. Write. A simple, well-formed letter has to be opened, read, and noted by the office. Even your emails are filed by topic of complaint. Why do they bother reading your letters and receiving your calls?

Because corporate campaign donations don’t actually vote. Because all the money from Big Fill-In-The-Blank (Oil, Coal, Pharmaceutical, Insurance, Guns) doesn’t get to fill out a ballot. Because a concerned, informed, activist constituency (the people registered to vote in a politician’s district) gets politicians sweating. Because they know that if by some chance you guys get organized, or if you even seem organized, you can be powerful. Because they’ve been let in on the secret that the individual can be a dynamic, glorious, highly-caffeinated agent of change. And that, frankly, is terrifying to them.

From our somewhat insular Skidmore life, its easy to view the marble halls of Washington as remote, the proceedings obscure in topic and impenetrable in language, the politicians as dour, disconnected and in desperate need of a hug. Its easy, if you’ve moved beyond apathy, to then get politically cock-blocked by intimidation.

Don’t. The Washington machine is lubricated with the blood of underpaid 23-year-old interns.
Very polite, 23-year-old, interns, sitting behind desks, waiting for you to interrupt their game of solitaire. Let them know you’re thinking of them.

To find out who’s representing you on the Hill:

http://www.house.gov

With love and youthful vigor,
The political organizing committee

p.s. – We meet at 9pm in Ladd 207 on Mondays if you’re at all interested. Because you don’t have enough to do on Monday’s already.