Run of Office 2

Right away, my campaign for the US House was in danger. The possibility of threats from gun-nuts, plus the inevitable media exposure, unnerved my wife. “I may have to leave,” she said, and mumbled something about divorce. I tried to assure her that my unfunded campaign had little chance against an incumbent. “I run just to have a platform,” I said “to show people that in the past humans have established non-violent, environmentally-responsible, vibrant, enduring societies. Beyond our differences on guns is a rich, healthy world. We can get there.” She was unmoved.

It was a futile plea anyway because without publicity, I was unknown. My name on the Oregon Secretary of State website had generated not a single invitation to speak. The campaign was dead.

Which did not dissuade political groups from sending questionnaires. Those from the right still courted division: a paragraph of propaganda was followed by yes/no - friend or foe? The question-writers seemed confused, frightened, desperate: “Do you support NASA spraying chemicals in the atmosphere over Oregon to control the weather? Yes or no?”

By contrast, questionnaires from the left, like the League of Women Voters, asked open-ended questions: “Discuss the issues that are priorities for you and how they serve your districts,” and “How will you try to reduce polarization in Congress to resolve problems?

Businesses supported my candidacy, too. Buy victory, they said. Buy lawn signs, TV ads, consulting, fundraising and ‘voter contact’. It’s all about winning with money.

On March 22, my flagging campaign turned positive. The LO Review published my Declaration of Candidacy, and immediately, a neighbor emailed: “You never asked me for money.” Another called: “How much do you need?” A stranger invited me to a forum at the old fire station in West Linn, sponsored by Independents for Progressive Action. IPA promised me an audience.

It was raining when I arrived. Eight chairs were lined up on a stage bathed in interrogation lights. The candidate for federal office (I) was to sit in the middle, among candidates for Clackamas Council, Metro, etc.

After three hours of tough, probing questions followed by knowledgeable answers from the other candidates, the moderator asked, Why did you run?

I nervously stood before rapt, judgmental progressives. “We have filled the Earth,” I began. “For millennia, male leadership, male hierarchies and male dominance were essential to human expansion. We invaded territories, conquered other people and exploited Nature.

“But we ran out of lands and enemies. Now, the male-dominated hierarchies that were necessary for expansion and conquest are afraid of obsolescence. They turn aggression and power against us, subjugating us politically and exploiting us financially. The rich and powerful concentrate wealth and power.

“In response, the people rise. First Black Lives Matter, then Women’s March, MeToo and now March for our Lives. The oppressed and disenfranchised declare: We are a global village. War and weapons of war have no place here. If men want to own guns, fine, just don’t bring them into society. If men want to shoot people, fine, go to Africa and shoot poachers.”

The progressives were silent. I walked outside into heavy rain.

The next day, at the March for our Lives, a neighbor carried a sign: “Common Sense Gun Laws – Peter Wright, District 5”.

A canvasser approached. He said he recognized my face from the night before.

I groaned. “My wife would prefer I remained anonymous.”

“I understand,” he said. “Marriages don’t survive in District 5.”