What.

Nobody asked for another think piece blog by an average frustrated middle-aged white guy, but I answered the call.

I’m not sure if I have anything unique to say, or anything that will ever be noticed. But I find myself driving to work arguing with whoever or whatever is on my local NPR station. I find myself ignoring work in favor of endless Facebook arguments. I find myself feeling completely helpless. So why not create a blog instead of screaming into the void?

Who.

I grew up in house with somewhat liberal political leanings in a state with very conservative politics. My dad would watch Face the Nation at the table while my mom made pancakes on Sunday, and he would heckle the guests as though they could hear them. My two older brothers held opposing political beliefs: one was a an ardent student of Ayn Rand, the other of Karl Marx. They’d have heated conversations about the merits of each (since then, their views have moderated and, to some extent, they’ve taken the reverse views of each other). My own nascent political views formed into what could best be described as horny tepid anarchism laced with socialism with an underlying desire to become obscenely wealthy (through art and culture).

Meanwhile, during my Mormon upbringing, the state of Utah banned all social clubs from schools to avoid having a gay-straight alliance club. The LDS church dominated all aspects of social life in the suburbs. One Sunday school teacher decried evolution as bullshit – “a butterfly can’t become an elephant,” he proclaimed. Young women were advised that no one wants a chewed up piece of gum (in regards to their chastity). The state legislature moved to open up public lands to extraction. While I didn’t realize it at the time, the state was in the process of becoming exorbitantly expensive to live in, without any safeguards for folks like my dad who lost his job and was unable to bounce back, throwing the financial fate of our family firmly on the sole income of my mother, a public school teacher. This conservative march continues today, with book bans in school libraries, LGBTQ discrimination, continued fucking over of public lands, and a growing home-grown nationalist movement – Deseret Nationalists (or Deznats, for short).

Nevertheless, as I grew up in one of the most conservative states in the country, I grew to love this state regardless of how outcast I felt. I grew away from the Church, and grew more interested in the outdoors. Sure, the culture and the politics aren’t much to write home about. The legislature is run by real estate agents while the LDS church maintains a stranglehold on all cultural aspects, but the landscape is mesmerizing. As an ex-mo (or former member of the LDS church) I’m a bit of a weirdo in a state where most locals are weirdos (something to explore in later posts).

As I grew older, my family moved away from the Salt Lake Valley. My Randist brother moved to Colorado and became considerably more liberal. My Marxist brother moved to NYC and became considerably more conservative (but still a Democrat). My sister moved to a small town in southern Utah that is literally and figuratively red. My mother followed my sister to be with grandkids but still remains a moderate Democrat (despite moving into an ostensibly polygamist neighborhood). My father passed away, which is either liberal or conservative depending on how you view it. But I stayed in Salt Lake County, even after fantasizing about the coast, counting the days until I could afford to move. But I stayed. And bought a house. In Kearns.

In my brief time as a Kearns resident, I’ve become interested in how the needs and interests of communities vary by geography. This might seem obvious to some: folks who live near the ocean are concerned about hurricanes; folks who live in the desert are concerned about drought.  While I lived in downtown Salt Lake City, we were mostly concerned with civil liberties and pushing back against the church-mandated conservativism. In Kearns, these concerns still exist, but also we have crumbing infrastructure, lacking bike and pedestrian facilities, and occasional drive-by shootings. A conversation with my NYC brother years ago regarding energy production made me realize that perhaps coastal/urban democrats may have a different perspective than those of us in the smaller rural (or rural-identifying) states.

So, with this project, that is what I would like to explore. How are leftie progressive liberals in a small state different than those in states with deeply entrenched Democrat states, like New York and California. What unique challenges does the left-leaning party face in conservative states. When Dems in lefty states pull their hair out over the seeming irrationality of conservative states, what are they missing and failing to grasp? Is there something they aren’t understanding? In addition, I invite anyone and everyone living as a liberal in a conservative state to give their insights and perspectives!

I know I’m going to get some things wrong. In some respects, I hope to be wrong so that I can learn and understand broader perspectives. I also hope for some grace. That is the intent of this journey – to start conversations about the issues that impact small-town Democrats and the challenges they face while also seeking to understand my neighbors who are small-town Republicans, and where we differ. Where are the blind spots? Are there blind spots at all? Are there blind spots that we didn’t know there were blind spots? Am I being too moderate or “centrist” in my approach (if that term has any meaning anymore)?

Thank you for reading, and I look forward to wherever this takes us.