Second grade got off to a rough start. Our home room teacher got sick and was replaced by
Miss Krantz, an idiosyncratic spinster with a nervous tic and an annoying habit of mumbling
when she read to the class. There was a kid in our class named Eugene who was a big bully
and who, for whatever reason, had a bunch of friends. He came up with the idea that if we
all complained to the principal, we could get Miss Krantz sacked.
Some of us were doubtful. While we didn't think Miss Krantz was the greatest teacher, we
also didn't think she deserved to be victimized by a conspiracy. We had concerns that
Eugene's strategy might not work, that we might all end up in hot water or that whoever
they replaced her with might be a lot worse. We made the mistake of speaking up and
voicing our misgivings. Eugene marshaled his forces, and soon they were calling us names,
ridiculing us and threatening to beat us up at recess or after school. We believed strongly
that what Eugene wanted to do was headstrong, ill-advised, based on less than all the facts
and not in the best interests of the class. The issue, however, had ceased to be about any of
those things. You were either one of "Eugene's people," or an outlier, a doubter, a pariah.
Eugene moved forward with his plan, even without the rest of us. The principal came in
and interviewed each student privately. Most went along with Eugene, but a lot of us
didn't. And things didn't work out quite the way Eugene said they would. Miss Krantz was,
in fact, reassigned. But her replacement, Miss Jernigan the tough old bat who replaced her
ran the class like a gulag, limiting our choices and controlling who we could talk to and what
we could say. Owell would have loved her.
As it turns out, everything I needed to know about the 2009 healthcare reform debate I
learned in that second grade class. Eugene is still using his majority to browbeat those who
disagree with him. Never mind that he doesn't know how this will al work, how much it
might cost us or if it will really be better than what we have. Because it has by now ceased
to be about us, and what's best for us. It's more about whether you're one of "Eugene's
People" or not. If not, be prepared for the labels "Nazi," or "tea bagger," or "astroturfer"
or "brain dead," even "racist." Worst of all brace for a future in Miss Jernigan's gulag,
where nothing worked out the way "Eugene" promises it will, and you no longer have
any choices.
One thing I learned in second grade is that it's better to face the consequences of speaking
up than it is to sit idly by while the Eugenes of this world burn down that which, while not
ideal, is working at some level. I also learned that there comes a time to push back, and one
day when it finally came to that and Eugene was laying on the ground wiping the bloody
nose I had just given him I think he learned something too. My second grade experience was
a near perfect allegory of the current healthcae debate. I leave it to you to decide who
corresponds to whom, and whether you want to be one of "Eugene's people," or one of
those who wants to proceed more cautiously and get it right.