As I sit in a hotel room in my provincial capital after a few glasses of wine and few hours of socializing, I am readying myself for a night's sleep before getting up tomorrow to spend the day lobbying Members of Provincial Parliament about some of the shortfalls of public education. Now don't get me wrong, I've bemoaned professional lobbyists before as a cancer to our political system, not because of any perceived insincerity or wrongdoing, but more because of the financial influence they wield in the backrooms of parliamentary power brokers.
So, when I say I'm going to lobby, I am stopping short of calling myself a lobbyist. I prefer to think of it as an advocate, even though my anger rises when I have to think of myself as an advocate for public education because politicians are not picking up the slack. Although there is a position and a script that is expected to inform my conversations, I really hope to achieve one thing: motivation through sincerity. I hope, at least, that sincerity can win the day because I don't have any cash to spread around. And with sincerity as my only tool, and words as my only medium, I will try to move politicians to taking up a fight for something that probably rarely crosses their radar. Herein lies the problem. My message is clear, and the way I would like to express that message is without reservation, without filters, without worrying about playing a game that I do not want to even understand - the game of diplomacy.
Don't get me wrong, I'm a strong believer in tact and communicating a message with grace and persuasion, but considering a time span of 5, 10, or 15 minutes to engage someone in a dialectic about an issue they may not want to move on, may not want to believe in, or may not even want to hear, should demand an abandoning of the so-called rules of civilized discourse.
I want to sit down, look across a desk and say, "Surely you can see how f'ed up this process is... why won't you do anything to change it." When they respond with a shrug and an excuse I want to storm, "You idiot! Don't you get that this problem leads to that problem and the money you spend here will save you money over here!"
And when a final look of bewilderment crosses their faces with a tone of resignation that, in a perfect world, what I'm proposing might be a useful thing, but realistically it isn't going to happen. I can respond with, "Well of course it can't happen if you're not even willing to get up off you ass to try. You spazz! You stunner! You moron! How can you claim to represent the best interests of the people who voted for you, and even the people who didn't vote for you, if you're just going to sit around playing it safe, not ruffling any feathers? How can you advocate for your constituents if you're unwilling to take a stand? How can you tell me you agree with something, but in the end, give it up because your cohorts think it unpopular or radical or impolitic? How can you ignore the people you're supposed to represent?"
Of course I would like to say that, but in the end I will have to read the inside cover of the box and figure out the rules. I will collect $200 when I pass GO. I will climb up the ladders and slide down the snakes. I will only follow the colored directions in my very own Candyland. And I will shout "Yahtzee" and wave my hands frantically when rolling five of a kind.
While I believe that stark honesty can be brutal in some situations (especially between friends and loved ones), there is usually an opportunity to mitigate a message with time and gentle persuasion. Short timeframes demand short messages, and while I appreciate that some of the shortest are not appropriate for some company, they are often the most memorable. After all the catch phrase on the Diplomacy box reads: Why say in a finger gesture what you can say with years of arguments and the greasing of palms?
