I was raised a Catholic. When I was about nine or ten, the local Lutheran Church held its Vacation Bible School, and all the kids in the neighborhood signed up. When I first heard about it, I was looking forward to a lonely couple of weeks, because I knew Catholics were not allowed to attend the Sunday school of other religions. It was a sin, plain and simple. My mother, however, couldn't see the harm, and didn't want me moping around the house. So off I went with the gang.

I learned a new ending to the Lord's Prayer, heard some Bible stories I never heard at Mass or Catechism, and memorized some different do's and don'ts, dutiful student that I was, even in the summer. All in all, I saw it as a benign experience, and for several years after that, I kept going to Mass every Sunday, as usual.

I did not realize until much later how significant that experience was. I had stepped over that boundary that separates those religions that require absolute loyalty and obedience, that fear exposure to other religious beliefs, even other Christian beliefs – and I had lived to tell about it. I could be considered a subversive within the ranks.

It was the same attitude that decades ago prevented married women from being teachers. Having tasted sex – even proper, married sex – they knew too much, and might let some information slip in class. Clearly, only virgins were eligible to teach. (It's a concept that I would like to say we have dispensed with entirely, but it still seems to prevail in our court system. Only people who don't know or don't care about what is going on around them – mental virgins – are allowed to serve on juries.)

I thought of my childhood Lutheran experience a few months ago when the Sedgwick school board was faced with a group of angry parents who did not want their children taught self-esteem. They did not want their children to look within for right and wrong, to trust their gut, because it would lead to them questioning the parents' absolute authority. They simply wanted their children to obey them – and all other forms of authority – without question.

I also thought of that same Vacation Bible School experience many times during my run for Congress this past year.

Take, for instance, the Republican Party. Under a Constitution that has protected the separation of church and state for more than 200 years, the Republican Party is faced with blatant and deliberate infiltration from the religious right. The Christian Right has announced its intentions from the pulpit to infiltrate the Republican Party, put its people in positions of authority, and get its right-wing agenda into the Republican platform. By all accounts, the ploy seems to be working. And there doesn't seem to be a thing the Republican Party can do about it.

The Democratic Party, on the other hand, has a different kind of problem. It is not facing an infiltration from the religious left. In fact, it is facing a mass defection from the religious – and non-religious – left.

Why? Because the Democratic Party in Maine is acting like the authoritarian Catholic Church in demanding absolute loyalty and unquestioning obedience. And those of us who have crossed that line, who have some semblance of self-esteem, are more and more coming to the conclusion that we don't want to put up with that kind of attitude.

If you're a casual, non-practicing Democrat, one who only goes to vote once or twice a year, showing up like many Christians do at church for Easter and Christmas, you might not have noticed that the way the Democratic Party operates internally in the state of Maine is dysfunctional, unhealthy to human beings and other living things, reeks of co-dependency – and is bad politics to boot.

It's starting to hurt publicly. Prominent defections from the Maine Democratic Party have been in the news lately. Rep. John Michael of Auburn decided he had a better shot at Congress as an independent, and dropped the Democratic Party like a hot potato in April. Loyal Democrat Linda Abramson, on the front page of the Maine Sunday Telegram, endorsed Republican Olympia Snowe for the Senate.

 

Former Democrat Angus King is running a high-powered campaign for governor, as an independent. He has cajoled to his team the Democratic media whiz Dennis Bailey – former press secretary for Democratic Congressman Tom Andrews and Democratic gubernatorial candidate Tom Allen. The headline proclaiming Bailey's new job screams that he is still a Democrat. And he is, I have no doubt. But the fact that the information is in the headline lets the world know that Bailey, in supporting a non-Democrat, is going to hell.

And he is, I have no doubt. But so are we all unless we get off this Democratic need for a loyalty oath. Too much real work needs to be done.

Of course, all this hits home with me because I too have committed a mortal sin against the Democratic Party. In 1992, while still a Democrat, I (like Dennis Bailey is now) was the media coordinator for an independent. In my case, it was Green Party candidate Jonathan Carter in his bid for Congress.

I supported Jonathan because his stands on the issues were closer to mine than were Pat McGowan's. Like a lot of people who volunteered on that campaign, I was a registered Democrat. I was a Tsongas alternate at the 1992 Democratic State Convention. My front lawn carried signs for Carter, Clinton\Gore, Democrat Ellen Walker for state rep, Democrat Bill Butler for county commissioner, and Republican Ruth Foster for state senate.

But, as I found out early in my own run for Congress two years later, unlike even the Catholic Church, there is no redemption or forgiveness for prodigal Democrats in the Democratic Party.

It was then, as a candidate, that I ran smack-dab into pocket after pocket of Loyalist Democrats all across the 2nd District who made it sound as if I had committed adultery against the Democratic Party because of my work with Jonathan Carter. Although I don't remember swearing fidelity (or parking my brain) when I registered as a Democrat many years ago, these people felt a Democrat could not cavort with any other party, even briefly, and stay out of the Democratic stocks.

The anger was volatile. These Loyalists held me personally responsible for Pat McGowan's defeat in the last election. I was flattered, which didn't help.

I asked, if I personally got 27,000 people to vote for Jonathan Carter – an unknown biology teacher with no campaign money and an all-volunteer crew – didn't they want that kind of energy and expertise on their side of the fence? Didn't they understand the powerful message that I was sending in announcing my candidacy not as a Green, but as a Democrat? Didn't they see that I could take the issues that the Greens and the Democrats had in common and form a bridge between the two?

They weren't interested in building bridges. And as for issues, who cares about issues? I had violated an unwritten rule, and I would have to pay.

Not only is this attitude intriguing to me, it is certainly counterproductive – and hypocritical. In two Democratic meetings I have attended in two different counties, the defection of Legislator Hugh Morrison from the Republican side of the aisle to the Democratic side of the State House floor in Augusta was hailed with great joy. Now here was a guy who not only worked for a non-Democratic candidate, he was a non-Democratic candidate. And he won as a non-Democratic candidate. At one of those meetings, Hugh was actually presented with an award for his conversion. I was impressed.

But the same people who were showering Morrison with accolades were threatening to shower me with rotten tomatoes if they'd had any within reach. Apparently, helping a Green candidate was worse than being a Republican candidate. Why? Because while Hugh was converting from one established religion to another, I was with the group that acted like Martin Luther, and had spiked the Ten Green Values to the heavy, ornate but unwielding wooden doors of the Democratic Party. (Guess I learned more than I thought that summer.)

And then I had the audacity to march in past those open doors, right up there in front of God and everyone, announce my Democratic candidacy without getting anyone's permission, and act as if that was all a very normal thing to do. The fact that I had not violated any of the Democratic ideals, issues, or platforms did not save me from the wrath of the Loyal Democrats who value loyalty above all else and saw me as a traitor to the cause.

And therein lies the crux of the matter. It is in how we define ''the cause.'' I see three versions so far.

My cause – the reason I ran for Congress, and put my house and farm on the line for the opportunity – was to try to get into a position to get some good government and some good laws moving in Washington. Nothing more, nothing less.

What was alarming for me to learn, as I only could from my position as a candidate, was how clearly the ''cause'' for the few dozen people who pull the strings at the top in the Maine Democratic Party is simply to get into positions of power, to make laws that can line their own pockets, to influence legislation for themselves and their friends. The $1 million sweetheart brokerage deal between CMP and the Portland law firm loaded with prominent Democrats, over the Fairfield Energy Venture buyout plan, is a perfect example of that. The deal was in the bag even before the enabling legislation was drafted.

The third and different ''cause'' for the thousands of Loyalist Democrats who accept this situation without question is the connection with something strong and powerful that tells them what to do and how to think. These are the joiners who never had those self-esteem classes in Sedgwick because their folks wouldn't allow it. These Loyalist Democrats are not upset with having lawyers and legislators calling all the shots, regardless of how bad the aim. Lawyers, after all, have to be smart, or they couldn't be lawyers. Politicians have to be smart or they couldn't get elected. And if they're Democrats, they wouldn't do anything to hurt us. (Reference note to those with that attitude: See Jim Bakker)

Face it, in this rapidly changing society, there is a lot of security in something that lets you know what the rules are, and lets you think you will be rewarded for following them. And there are a lot of people out there who like that kind of security, and feel it's not fair to change the rules – or to let someone like me get away with flouting them.

And we all know the rules have been changing over the last few years. It started with English at Mass, about the same time that Feminism and Betty Friedan came along. How many Catholics went belly-up – felt violated to the point of leaving the Church – when the pope suddenly started saying you would not literally go to Hell if you ate meat on Friday? We'll make it a venial sin, if you insist on keeping it a sin at all. If immortal damnation could turn on a phrase, what was next? (How many feminists hoped and prayed that the pope's stand on birth control would not be far behind? And what happened to them when it wasn't?)

How many mill workers have felt violated when, through no fault of their own, the company their family had depended on for generations for jobs, started laying off people or going out of business altogether? The deal was: Be loyal to the company, and it would be good to you. The workers had held up their end of the bargain and they got the shaft. Just like the good little wife and mother, monogamous and faithful, who is suddenly faced with a philandering husband who announces he wants a divorce. But of course it didn't do any good to get mad at anybody. Unlike wedding vows, nobody at the mill had actually, really, in writing, promised them a rose garden. No, in this day and age, it was just the way things were. Sorry about that.

With that as a backdrop, how reassuring to belong to a political party that you can count on, one that unabashedly combines the best elements of God and Country, and makes you feel good to boot! How many people, who would die if seen at religious revival meetings, proudly thrive at Democratic political revival meetings? It's safe, it's patriotic, it's reliable, it's fun. The colorful campaign posters assault the senses, and you drink in the excitement. This is the seat of power! You can just feel it. And the music – it's not rock or rap, or anything in between, you know all the words, and the notes and verses bring tears to the eyes. It feels good to be part of something grand. What more could anyone want?

Issues? Who cares about issues? It's not what you know, it's who you know, and how much money you have. The show's the thing. Bread (or spaghetti) and circus for everyone! What's wrong with that?

What's wrong? What's wrong is that the country is falling apart while the emphasis in the Democratic Party is on P-A-R-T-Y – any way you care to define that. It's a clear sign of co-dependency to be steadfastly loyal, even when the loyalty is unjustified and personally harmful. It is that unjustified loyalty that says any Democratic candidate, regardless of credentials or stands on the issue, must be supported in the name of the Party.

Don't look now, folks, but it is that same type of loyalty beyond common sense that keeps battered women in abusive situations.

By the way, the Democratic Party is not alone in this obsession. I was forceably removed from any participation in the Green Party when I went to work for the federal government last year – because my boss was a Democrat.

Four months after the 1992 election, I was hired by Democratic Congressman Tom Andrews to be a legislative assistant. I was excited about working for a strong progressive who got things done. And since the Greens had run a candidate for Congress, I figured they might like someone in their organization who actually knew what the inside of a congressional office looked like.

Wrong.

Greg Gerritt, a fellow member of the Green's interim (temporary) board of directors told me I had to resign. Says who, I asked. Gerritt bristled at my challenge to what he thought was his obvious authority. Carter and a few others came to my defense. But it was not enough.

Shortly afterward, the new, permanent board was formed as planned, but without me. I signed up to work on two committees. Two days later, Gerritt informed me in writing that ''anyone who works for a Democratic office holder, or who is an office holder from any party other than the Green Party'' would be out of the loop, and get only mailings that went out to all Greens. No inside skinny, no strategy stuff, no committee notices, nothing. Since he sent out the notices, he in effect was canceling my committee assignments, all by himself.

I thought it was all rather silly. Greg's action was unilateral, patriarchal and demagogic, and coming from a Green organizer, it was outrageous. And just what was the Green Party hiding that he didn't want me or the world to know?

I wrote to the new Greens governing board, asking if it supported Greg's position. And, if so, just who would be kicked out under his criteria? Anyone registered in another party? A delegate to a party convention? Someone – like me – working as a federal employee with a Democratic boss? How about a campaign staffer for a Democratic candidate, and if so, where did that put a Green who supported a Jerry Brown or a Jesse Jackson?

I eventually got a simple acknowledgement of my letter, but, more than a year later, the board has yet to answer those questions.

It was clear the Greens were not interested in building bridges, even with progressive Democrats. Issues? Who cares about issues?

Apparently, too, tyranny in the cause of consensus is no vice.

* * *

This hypocrisy and gnashing of teeth could all be fun to watch, as all the unenrolled self-proclaimed independents do, if it weren't the way we elect our government in this country. Enrolled in a party or not, can we afford to be sideline spectators, while the political gangs and groupies decide the fate of the nation? Why do we wait in idle amusement during the primary orgy, content with the remaining crumbs? What will it take to get bridge builders and issues people involved in the political process in enough numbers to really make a difference?

Like the shift in awareness that has happened in how we view rape and domestic assault, I think it's time to put the responsibility back where it belongs.

I am a Democrat because I like the ideas embodied in the Democratic Party, its heritage, its support for labor and farmers, women and children, the environment. And at this point I think it is our best shot at affecting a much-needed change in direction in this country.

However, I do not feel it is the responsibility of all Democrats to support all Democratic candidates, regardless of their personal qualifications. (Heresy! Tie her to the stake! Where's the match?)

I feel it is the responsibility of the Democratic Party to offer solid candidates that all Democrats, and enough independents and Republicans, can support. And it is the responsibility of all Democrats to think carefully about who they want in office, based on how the candidates stand on the issues they care about, and to vote accordingly in both the Democratic primary and the general election.
(Both Sen. George Mitchell and 2nd District Democratic nominee John Baldacci have told me in separate conversations that their analysis of this past June's Democratic primary was that candidates' stands on issues had nothing to do with the results. In fact, Sen. Mitchell said when he lost the governor's race to Jim Longley Sr. 20 years ago, he was told it was because he had stuck too much to the issues.)

When we vote, we are sending a brain and a philosophy out to represent us. Since the votes cast on new laws, at whatever level of government, will have an enormous impact on our lives and our pocketbooks, we had better take the time to find out what is in that brain, and what that philosophy amounts to. If we don't start thinking like that, talking like that, and voting like that – if we continue to vote in primaries for the best show, to be impressed by the most money or the slickest ads – we will continue to see the role of the Democratic Party shrink in the state of Maine.

Because, as we can already read in the headlines, some of us are just not taking it any more. And we are realizing more and more that not only don't we have to, but it may actually be unhealthy for us all, individually and as a nation, to accept the current situation as normal.

* * *

Not too many years ago, I had a discussion with my older sister, who lives in New Jersey. To say my sister, who works as a secretary, is generous, is a severe understatement. This is a woman who has given great pieces of herself to her family and others, time and again, over the years, often when she couldn't afford to, physically or financially.

We got into a discussion about the Catholic church. She attends Mass regularly, gives generously, but openly disagrees with many of its teachings, particularly when it came to issues involving women.

After realizing we agreed on so many of those issues, I asked her point-blank why, then, she was financially supporting an institution that she knew demeaned women as second-class citizens, or worse. She knew I had stopped doing that many years ago.

She looked at me and wistfully smiled. ''Jeanie,'' she said, ''you think too much.''

You know, she's probably right.