I can’t just sit in an office and read books to learn. I have to get out and have experiences like visiting the Capitol. I can take a lot more of these trips and report back to you, but I need your help. Become a paid subscriber today!
I couldn't take my eyes off the building.
I was chatting will a fellow group member, but the marble of the Capitol Building kept me turning my head.
The smoky streaks of grey wafting through the whitish-cream colored stone. The precise lines and stately columns.
The building felt solemn and important. I felt...patriotic?
Suddenly this fierce feeling of protectiveness came over me.
"This is our building. This is our Congress. This is our country. The oligarchs and white Christian nationalists can't have it. Hands off my democracy!"
I was there as part of the Summit for Religious Freedom hosted by Americans United for the Separation of Church and State.
I had given a keynote talk the previous day titled, "Holy but Not Hijacked: The Black Christian Political Witness in the Face of White Christian Nationalism."
My verbal version of the "Hands Off" protests. My statement to white Christian nationalism--"Hands off my religion!"
AU and its annual SRF (affectionately pronounced "surf") are truly big tent affairs that brought me into contact with plenty of different types of Christians, but also Jewish people, atheists agnostics, the curious, and full-time activists engaged in all sorts of causes.
The thread that bound us together was the concern for the state of our nation and the ways that religion was being used to curtail the freedom that rightfully belonged to all people.
The conference itself was one of the most organized I've attended. Everything ran on time, and we all knew what to expect.
My Day on Capitol Hill
What stood out to me personally, though, happened the next day.
That's when we headed to the offices of our senators and representatives on a mission to advocate for the separation of church and state and the advance of democratic principles.
We started with a training in the basement of a nearby church.
We penned handwritten poscards encouraging representatives and senators to co-sponsor the Do No Harm Act (HR 1954, S 894). This bill:
"Amends the Religious Freedom Restoration Act (RFRA) and restores it to its original intent...RFRA should never be used to exempt anyone from laws that protect other people's basic civil rights, like nondiscrimination and healthcare laws."
We also wrote in opposition to the "Educational Choice for Children Act (HR 817, S 292) which:
"Would give away $10 billion per year to fund private school vouchers. Vouchers divert critical funds from public schools to subsidize/pay for students, many who already attend private schools."
As a welcome bonus, we had the privilege of hearing from several members of Congress who briefly spoke about the importance of the separation of church and state and, more broadly, about the importance of making our voices heard.
One staffer laid bare the framework that determined whether a particular bill or cause would be taken up by a politician.
"Does the issue personally matter to the Congress member? Does it matter to their constituents? Do they know it matters to their constituents?
After that, it was time to stop gathering information and start taking action. We split into groups according to the geographic regions where we lived and headed out.
My first stop was to the office of Morgan McGarvey--the Democratic rep for my district.
His office was filled with Louisville memorabilia including shelves and shelves of bourbon in a glass case and a prominent framed poster of hometown hero, Muhammad Ali.
McGarvey is on the best side of a lot of policies, so my postcard simply thanked him for already being a co-sponsor of the Do No Harm Act.
My senators--Mitch McConnell and Rand Paul--were a different story.
Even though my postcards urged them to do the right thing, I had a pleasant exchange with the young staffers in McConnell's office. T
hey seemed genuinely interested as I rambled on and on about the history of Simmons College, the HBCU where I teach in Louisville.
People Power
I'll be marinating on my time visiting offices of representatives and senators for a long time.
This was precisely what our government was set up to do--provide an avenue where constituents can let the elected officials who represent them know their concerns and have a reasonable expectation of being heard.
In its most basic sense, democracy means "people power."
That day I felt like a person who at least had the power to express my views to the people empowered to make policies.
The experience made the work of the federal government less opaque and intimidating.
At the end of the day, all the bills, all the laws, all the deliberations are done by people.
Regular human beings.
They are imperfect, they have fears, hopes, and worries.
They can also be influenced.
The most frequent refrain I heard throughout my day on Capitol Hill was, "Your voice matters."
Even if your postcard or phone call doesn't change a member's mind or the law or the policy--keep speaking up.
At minimum, a politician opposed to your stance may not fight so hard against what you support. And who knows? Sometimes pressure works and politicians do change their positions.
The only alternative to speaking up as a constituent is silence. And silence guarantees that nothing changes.
But when we speak, we disrupt complacency. We remind officials and politicians that the people still have power.
As I looked back at the marble of the Capitol, I felt it again: this is our building, our Congress, our country. Our democracy. And we must never let them forget it.
What’s one thing that would make you feel more empowered to speak up politically? Comment below.
Episode 2 of "Roadmap to Ruin” is out now. It’s called “Architects of Ruin” and it pulls back the curtain on the shadowy network of money, individuals, and institutions behind the dismantling of democracy. Watch the episode and join us Tuesdays at 7 pm ET this month for a live, online video study led by me!
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