Washington Wrap-Up

The weather turned quite a bit colder on Tuesday. Though it was only in the 40's, the humidity and the wind combined to make it bone-chilling. We were glad that we had been able to enjoy Mt. Vernon and the monuments and memorials in good weather the day before.

We started out the day with a visit to the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, a Roman Catholic cathedral that I mistakenly thought was the site of President Kennedy's funeral. The interior of this church frankly struck me as cold and sterile.

We next retraced our route on the Metro to Union Station and walked from there to the Supreme Court Building, then across the street to the Capitol. The court was in session, so we were unable to see the actual courtroom, but it was still cool to see the place where so many historic decisions have been made and where so many demonstrations have been held over the years.

I hadn't thought we would be able to get on a tour of the Capitol, but we were able to walk in to a tour that was just starting as we arrived. I had hoped that we would be able to arrange a private tour by a congressional staffer - which is what we did in 2005 when I was there with Sarah, Adam and Hannah - but such was not the case this time. Nevertheless, we saw a nice film, followed by a tour of the Rotunda, the old Senate chamber and Statuary Hall.

"The Apotheosis of George Washington" in the dome of the Capitol

After a light lunch in the cafeteria of the Capitol Visitor Center, we undertook a bone-chilling walk to the Air and Space Museum. The highlight of our visit there was the IMAX 3-D presentation of "Hubble," which featured eye-popping and mind-blowing images of distant reaches of the known universe.

By the time we left the museum, we were a bit tired and frankly didn't feel like being out in the cold wind anymore. We took the Metro back to our hotel adjacent to George Washington University, had some down time in our room, then went out to eat after having eaten salads in our room the previous two nights.

The next morning, we were up bright and early and left for the White House at about 7:30. There was some mix-up on Mark's birthdate, so he had to stand off to one side for about 15 minutes while he was "re-cleared" as I waited. By the time we got to the next check point, where our names and birth dates were again checked prior to going through screening, we were both shivering in the cold.

The public tours of the White House consist of viewing a few rooms in the basement and all of the rooms on the first floor. Secret Service agents are in each room, watchfully surveying everyone and - technically - available to answer questions about the various rooms. When I and the kids toured the place in 2005, our Congressman had personally escorted us and arranged, as I recall, for a much more intimate tour. This time, it was much different; but Mark was able to visit the White House, and that's the important thing. As we walked out the front door, Mark quipped, "All that for a 15-minute tour."

After some breakfast, we headed back to the hotel, checked out, then drove to the National Cathedral, which was on our way to the airport.

It had been a good trip. Fun, thought-provoking, enriching. The time we had spent with Rachel in Philadelphia had been wonderful, and the time in Washington had been very meaningful in a way that I had not anticipated. I'm glad we went.

The 60's Memorials

Moving from the FDR Memorial to the MLK Memorial was an interesting, thought-provoking experience. It was as though we were making a pilgrimage to monuments to the on-going struggle throughout the 20th century for the creation of a more just, equal and enlightened society. 

I knew nothing about design and content of the MLK Memorial prior to our visit. But I could remember the 60's. I can remember seeing protest marches on the evening news, along with news of that day's killing in Vietnam, news that nightly visited every family in the nation. I remember the awful spring of 1968, when MLK's assassination by a white man set off violent demonstrations in many cities of the country. I can also more vividly recall the assassination and funeral a few months later of Robert Kennedy.

Upon doing some background reading for this post, I came across a speech that Robert Kennedy (who was running that spring for the Democratic nomination for president) made at a campaign rally in a predominantly black area of Indianapolis the night of King's assassination. (King's death wasn't confirmed until Kennedy had landed in Indianapolis, and he conveyed the news to those assembled at the rally. The speech, therefore, was extemporaneous.) As I read the speech, it brought back the sense of idealism I recall being associated with RFK and demonstrates how different the tone of political discourse was then as compared to now. Here is an excerpt:

"Martin Luther King dedicated his life to love and to justice between fellow human beings. He died in the cause of that effort. In this difficult day, in this difficult time for the United States, it's perhaps well to ask what kind of a nation we are and what direction we want to move in. For those of you who are black -- considering the evidence evidently is that there were white people who were responsible -- you can be filled with bitterness, and with hatred, and a desire for revenge.

"We can move in that direction as a country, in greater polarization -- black people amongst blacks, and white amongst whites, filled with hatred toward one another. Or we can make an effort, as Martin Luther King did, to understand, and to comprehend, and replace that violence, that stain of bloodshed that has spread across our land, with an effort to understand, compassion, and love.

"For those of you who are black and are tempted to fill with -- be filled with hatred and mistrust of the injustice of such an act, against all white people, I would only say that I can also feel in my own heart the same kind of feeling. I had a member of my family killed, but he was killed by a white man.

"But we have to make an effort in the United States. We have to make an effort to understand, to get beyond, or go beyond these rather difficult times.

"My favorite poem, my -- my favorite poet was Aeschylus. And he once wrote: 'Even in our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, until, in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God.'

"What we need in the United States is not division; what we need in the United States is not hatred; what we need in the United States is not violence and lawlessness, but is love, and wisdom, and compassion toward one another, and a feeling of justice toward those who still suffer within our country, whether they be white or whether they be black."

One enters the King Memorial through the "mountain of despair," a reference to a quote from MLK's famous "I Have a Dream" speech.

Neatly cut out of this mountain of despair is a "stone of hope" - King.

From the MLK Memorial, we walked to the Lincoln Memorial. It seemed fitting that this was the next stop on our "pilgrimage," as this edifice has served not only as the closest thing we Americans have to a national shrine, but as the site of many historic events marking the struggle toward a more equal and just society and nation, such as Marian Anderson's performance in 1939 and MLK's "March on Washington" in 1963.

I thought about these events as Mark and I ascended the many steps to the "temple of freedom." (I think Memorial's resemblance to ancient Greek temples is no accident; and in fact the inscription above Lincoln's statue explicitly refers to the memorial as a temple.)

I also thought about how the Tea Party and their ilk don't have much time for Lincoln. Lincoln was a unifier, a preserver, a man who sought to "bind up the nation's wounds" after the terrible slaughter incurred in the Civil War - as memorialized in the words of his second inaugural address:

These people clothe themselves in the garb and in the supposed ideology of those who were there when Moses parted the Red Sea and God himself fought the American Revolution and delivered the Constitution on Mt. Sinai. These people are too often filled with hatred, division and bigotry. No, they have no use for Lincoln. They can't use him, for he was the great unifier, not the great divider.

It gave me pause, as we stood in front of Lincoln's statue, to wonder how differently American history might have progressed if Lincoln had lived and had been able to carry out his dream of a unified, compassionate and equal America.

Isn't he gorgeous?

The Vietnam War Memorial is visible from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial - another monument to that critical decade of the 60's, to both the dreams and the contradictions of that tumultuous time. We were fortunate to be there on Veterans' Day. I won't add any commentary about our visit to that long black wall. The pictures tell the story.

This struck me as a cool picture, but I sense a deep meaning to this photograph that is eluding my grasp.
Perhaps we are a reflection of what these men would have been had they been standing there?

Re-Thinking Roosevelt

Sunset on the Clinton Building Monday afternoon

"Oh, you must go see the Roosevelt Memorial," our new friend Craig said to us a couple of weeks ago when he found out we were planning a trip to Washington. "It's beautiful." I had never heard of it, but I made a mental note.

I'm glad he mentioned it.

A bit of background ... My dad was a midwestern old-school Republican (i.e., before the religious right arose with the election of Ronald Reagan), as was his father, my grandfather (and his father before him). Dad was born in 1925 and so grew up during the Depression. He grew up on a farm in southern Illinois, listening to my grandpa complaining about all the make-work programs that President Roosevelt initiated, how they were "going to ruin the country," how men "stood around leaning on a shovel," etc. 

I, in turn, was exposed to my father's very Republican views and heard him make negative comments about Franklin Roosevelt, then later about Lyndon Johnson and his Great Society. I well remember the 1964 election in which Barry Goldwater ran against Johnson - mainly because I recall chanting around our neighborhood with other kids, "Goldwater, Goldwater, he's our man; Johnson belongs in the garbage man." (Interestingly, when I was taking a political science class at the University of Illinois in the late 70's, our professor related one time how, as a boy in New York City, he remembered chanting, "Roosevelt, Roosevelt, he's our man, Landon belongs in the garbage can.")

I grew up to be a good Republican like my father, and I was prejudiced against Franklin Roosevelt. I never studied him, I never read a biography about him. He was an "other" whom I never felt the need to learn about.

But many things have happened in my life in the past few years that have changed my social and political outlook. (I wrote a tongue-in-cheek piece a little over 2-1/2 years ago about my political "coming out" that I republished on this blog here.)

I say all this because I approached the Roosevelt Memorial with a very different mindset than that which I would have had earlier in my life.

The first thing that should be said about the memorial is that it is beautiful, spreading tranquilly along 7-1/2 acres on the shore of the Tidal Basin between the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial and the Jefferson Memorial. It is organized into four outdoor "rooms," each representing one of the four terms to which Roosevelt was elected. (He died shortly after his fourth inauguration.) If we had known this beforehand, we would have approached from the north side; but since we were coming from the south side, we went through the rooms backwards. As it happened, however, this increased my appreciation for the memorial as we "went back in time."

Each of the four "rooms" featured waterfalls

I was particularly impressed by the rooms devoted to Roosevelt's first two terms in which he grappled with the Great Depression.

Statuary depicting the massive unemployment of the First Term

Seeing this quotation was one of the number of times on Monday that I contemplated the on-going
battle to achieve full civil rights for America's gay, lesbian and transgender citizens

I think the above quotation is as relevant today as it was 80 years ago

I left the Roosevelt Memorial feeling fed - and changed. What I had read and experienced there made me want to learn more about this president, made me want to overcome my prejudice and learn why millions of Americans had loved him.

Continuing the theme of my last couple of posts, I also felt that a renewed sense of a different type of patriotism had been fed at this memorial. Mark expressed some of his thoughts on this subject in an email to his family: "We both pondered the meaning of patriotism most of the day and by the end of the day, for me I'm not sure what it means. Having an American flag up every Veterans Day? Saying you would be willing to die defending your country? Standing up for the civil rights of minorities? How about compromising the expectations you have for yourself as an individual for the good of the less fortunate or oppressed?"

I was and am glad for the experience I had that bright, sunny, beautiful Veterans' Day - an experience that continued to be shaped as we visited the MLK, Lincoln and Vietnam War Memorials, the subject of my next post.

The Jefferson Memorial: Touchstones and Reflections

On Monday afternoon, we headed out to see the monuments and memorials along the mall and tidal basin, starting with my favorite - the Jefferson Memorial.

I was deeply affected by my first visit there in 1976, being particularly impressed with the quotation that is partially visible in the photo below: "I have sworn upon the altar of God eternal hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind of man." As we entered the memorial on Monday, I was similarly moved. This is without question my favorite quote of all time, and I have tried to make it a governing principle of my life. I have also tried to teach and impart the spirit of this quotation to my children. I would like to think that, when my life is weighed in the balance, part of the legacy I will leave to them is this spirit.

Though I had been to the Jefferson Memorial several times, the thoughts about patriotism that had been engendered Monday morning at Mt. Vernon caused me to reflect anew on Jefferson's quote pictured below.

One of the thoughts that came into my mind while traveling to and visiting Mt. Vernon was how many Americans - particularly those of conservative Christian faith - look back upon the founding of the country and the drafting of the Constitution as though those these events were peculiarly divinely inspired and that the Constitution was a revelation from God. They therefore believe that we in the 21st century should regard the Constitution in the same manner as did those who wrote, adopted and argued over the Constitution in the late 1780's. In constitutional law terms, judges should try to divine the "original intent" of the Founders and closely adhere to that intent.

But, to me, Jefferson's words quoted above give the lie to that approach. Our government continues to change, our Constitution continues to breathe as the human mind progresses and as it " ... becomes more developed, more enlightened." "[A]s new discoveries are made, new truths discovered and manners and opinions change, with the change of circumstances, institutions must advance also to keep pace with the times."

Are not our minds more enlightened than they were 225 years ago? Have not new discoveries been made, new truths discovered? Our Constitution must always serve the needs of the people, not the other way around. As manners and opinions change, so too must our interpretation of the Constitution change in order for our society to remain just and free.

Mt. Vernon: Reflections on "Patriotism"

Carnations laid by veterans at George Washington's Tomb

Yesterday was another beautiful day along the Potomac. As we headed out toward Mt. Vernon, the sky was blue, the sun was shining, the foliage was stunning and the traffic was light (it being a holiday). One wanted to sigh with contentment.

This was actually my fourth visit to Mt. Vernon. I first went in June 1976 with a church youth group. Then later with my parents and my sister, Martha. Then again in 2005, when I went with my three older children. Each visit had been special in its own way, and Monday's visit was no exception because I was there with Mark (who had never before been to Washington).

Washington's Greenhouse

Each visit was also different because, in each case, I was at a different stage in my life. When I went as a recent high school graduate in the Bicentennial year, I was full of patriotism and an appreciation of our nation's history. I felt connected to it. It was something I had grown up with, read about and even fantasized about. I loved history. 

Almost thirty years later, I had gone with my three older children. I was anxious to share the nation's capital with them. I had homeschooled my eldest, placing an emphasis on American history, and had introduced her to the American Girl books when she was a young girl living in Canada. She fell in love with Felicity, the girl from colonial Williamsburg, and I promised Sarah that I would take her to Williamsburg before she graduated from high school.

As it happened, her senior choir trip was to Washington. I arranged to fly out with Adam and Hannah, then meet Sarah at the end of her trip, whereupon we would then explore DC and Williamsburg together. It was an immensely fun and memorable experience.

Womens' Slave Quarters

As we drove down George Washington Parkway toward Mt. Vernon yesterday morning, I reflected upon how this trip was different from my previous trips in a number of ways. Mainly, I realized that my head was in a totally different place than it had ben on previous visits to Washington. I was out as a gay man, but I had also come out of Mormonism, with its belief system that very deliberately intertwined religion and patriotism. 

Mormons believe that God raised up the Founding Fathers and that the Constitution as written in 1788 was divinely inspired (thus leading them to distrust any evolution from the document as originally written). They believe that the United States has a unique mission to fulfill in the history of the world and especially in the "last days" leading up to the second coming of Christ. They believe that each person who came to the Americas was inspired by God so to do. To say that their theology is exceptionalist and triumphalist would be a vast understatement. They also believe that Mormons will play a unique role in the history of the United States; that the day will come when the "elders of Israel" (the Mormon priesthood) will save the Constitution (whatever that means) in a day of great peril.

Blacksmith

I have previously written on this blog about some of the practical implications of this theology, i.e., how it affects rank-and-file members, particularly those in Utah. But what I came to realize yesterday is how much almost 30 years of buying into this way of thinking had warped and twisted my sense of history and patriotism. I had come to deliberately avoid any outward signs of patriotism and had also guarded myself against feeling any sense of "patriotism" lest I "behave" and feel how others expected me to behave and to feel what others expected me to feel. 

My feelings about patriotism, my feelings about and attitude toward our nation's history had been appropriated by Mormonism and had thereby been perverted, conservatized, and communalized. In this regard, yesterday was an exercise in recovery and healing. Not just at Mt. Vernon, but at monuments and memorials that we visited later that day - about which I will write in subsequent posts.

Washington's Original Tomb

As Mark and I concluded our tour of Mt. Vernon after having visited Washington's tomb where there were volunteers handing out carnations to veterans to lay at the tomb's entrance (see lead photo), we talked about what Washington's legacy means to Americans today. Yes, he was a great general, yes he was our first president, yes he guided our nation through its critical first years as a republic - but what would Washington say to Americans today? What does his example of freeing his slaves upon his death mean to us today?

Washington was a revolutionary. He did things that had never been done before. He was not a slave to old ways of thinking. He was not a "conservative." He was a bold leader who had a vision and who remained faithful to that vision, a vision that was clearly even bolder than circumstances of his time would countenance (exemplified by his freeing his slaves upon his death). He was a man who worked to build consensus in order to govern. 

These are all qualities we need in leaders today, and this, I submit, is Washington's living legacy to a diverse, thriving, living America. I think this was reflected in some of what we saw at Mt. Vernon yesterday: a Japanese-American mansion guide; the first-generation Korean-American woman who was ahead of us in the line to enter the mansion; the Latino persons whom we saw, as well as people of other races. These people weren't there because their ancestors had fought in the Revolution or had been passengers on the Mayflower. These people weren't there, I imagine, because they were Christian or because of something Washington did in 1777 or 1789. They were there, I submit, because of what Washington's legacy means to the America of today; and that is why, I realized, I was there as well.

Healing.