Like most gays and lesbians in America, the first time I heard of Howard Dean was during the whole Civil Unions debate in Vermont.
I didn't much like what I heard about Gov. Dean at the time. I thought he had wimped out and was part of 'The Establishment' that had short-shrifted gay and lesbian couples, offering them the separate-and-definitely-not-equal alternative to marriage. Dean, I thought, was part of the stodgy political and social inertia we had to overcome. Then he left me a message on my answering machine.
Actually, he left me three messages. And that's when my impression of Dean began to change. For better, and for good.
At the time, I was covering the Civil Unions issue for The Advocate. Standard practice when you want to interview a highly placed government official—like a governor—is to put in a request to his handlers. They then schedule you for a meager slot of time, during which you hope as a journalist to be able to slide in a few revealing questions, rather than have to listen the whole time to a lot of boring political rhetoric and self-promoting.
I was prepared for a lot of self-promoting from Dean.
I had spoken with his public relations director, and she assured me Dean would be happy to speak to me. Someone would get back to me, she assured me.
I hung up, waiting for one of her assistants to call me back and give me the date and time I should call back so I could be patched in for a 15-minute-or-so session with the governor.
Instead, Dean called me the next day and left a message on my answering machine.
'Hello Mubarak,' the voice on the recorder said. 'This is Howard Dean, Governor of Vermont. I'm sorry I missed you.' He then went on to leave me a cell phone number where he could be reached.
In a game of phone-tag before we actually spoke, Dean called me back two more times.
This response alone was so unusual that Dean immediately got my attention. I figured I should give him a chance.
When we did speak, Dean talked without a timer. He spoke frankly and poignantly about his own education on sexual orientation through the civil unions battle, about new gay and lesbian friends he'd made, and about his astonishment at the vicious personal attacks he'd gotten from the anti-gay forces in Vermont as he traversed the state defending the civil unions bill.
To my surprise, I found myself no longer thinking of Dean as a wimp. Instead, I thought of him as a respected leader.
I still do. And that's one reason I'm still supporting his candidacy for president.
Throughout his run, Dean has struck me as a candidate who is honest and frank and plain-talking. And most of what he says is right on target too. He may have gotten in trouble for the Saddam Hussein comment, for example. But making an unpopular comment doesn't mean it was factually incorrect. Indeed, he was right. And his courage to say things that are not necessarily popular is, for me, another sign of his true leadership.
It's easy to say things people want to hear. That's what all politicians do, and that's what makes politics numbingly boring for so many Americans most of the time. In Dean, it has been refreshing to hear a less-filtered, more honest voice on the political landscape.
Much of the press—which always prefers to focus on the 'horse-race' aspect of any political campaign, rather than the substantive issues—has badgered Dean for not being the kind of smooth-talking political game-player they are used to rubbing elbows with.
But his raw honesty and passion are two of the qualities that have drawn me to Dean as a candidate. And which would make him a strong leader for the nation.
Since his now much-over-analyzed post-Iowa speech, where Dean took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves and gave his faithful a rally cry, the good doctor has given himself a political Valium. His tone after New Hampshire was much more subtle, much more subdued. Jacket and tie stayed on. There was no whooping or hollering. And he made sure to mention his wife, Judy. On television appearances since then, he's maintained the same steady demeanor.
I understand Dean's change in tactics, but I am sorry for them. I miss the more passionate version of Howard Dean we used to see.
I'm tired of the same old dried up and dully predictable Washington insiders who, frankly, are about as inspiring as Melba toast. John Kerry may turn out to be an OK candidate. And if he is the Democratic nominee, I'll support him. Let's face it, anyone is better for America and for GLBT people than the disaster that is George W. Bush.
But I'm not ready to give up on Dean yet. I still think he has the kind of passion and energy that could mobilize America to get rid of this regrettable sitting president.
And he has the kind of unpolished integrity that makes politics fun again.
MubarakDah@aol.com
