An overarching religion among entrepreneurs in the high tech community is that we adhere strictly to the words, deeds, nuance, hints, complaints, positions, arguments and perspective of customers. We strive to hear the silence of what is not said as loudly as what is articulated.

When I knocked on more than 13,000 doors in 2008 in my first campaign, I felt a natural orientation to speaking directly with voters that flowed easily. I simply loved it and I think my business experience prepared me well for it. In connecting with voters at the Ballard Farmer’s Market this weekend I was reminded once again of the power of hearing the quiet reflection of the public not to loudly convince them of an idea, but merely to listen intently.

Lately I have reflected on the power of listening on a broader political level as it relates to the Democratic Party. (I shall not attempt to convey today my thoughts about the Republican Party but will save that for another day.)

I am a proud and engaged Democrat. The party of the people has long stood for the finest elements of equality, justice, progress, access and opportunity for real people living real lives that has defined and built our nation. We have led the great battles of our nation from the old to the new, from the status quo to a sense of the possibilities of our nation’s greatness.

Today, I must acknowledge that I fear that when it comes to the issue of public education the Democratic Party has lost our ability to hear the silence as well as the noise. We have lost our intellectual interest in challenging the institutional grip of the status quo relative to experimenting with new ideas, new approaches, new policies, new possibilities.

At a systems level, we have reached a point in our state where we have allowed innovation, experimentation, risking failure, challenging assumptions and questioning bureaucracy to be viewed as some sort of nefarious secret agenda to eviscerate public education itself.

Perhaps, instead, the yellow canaries in the coal mines of public education are calling out for help to modernize and update our 200-year old approach to education?

Education is not totally and completely broken in such a manner as that it needs to be scrapped. There is good in every classroom, every building, every district. It is, however, less responsive to the individualized needs of students than it must be in order to graduate 100% of students and send them on to success in post-secondary education, life and civic society.

I believe that the vast majority of the American public wants to see a sense of courageous honesty about a new approach to education. They know intuitively that a 73% on time graduation rate from high school is a deeply distressing reality for a competitive global economic reality. They see their own children in those numbers and they want us as a society to do and be so much more. Even the old idea that a high school degree is somehow a tool of educational empowerment is stale and disconnected from today’s reality. Some sort of post secondary education is essential to economic survival, and yet we see young people saddled with unimaginable debt and few options for careers.

We blindly accept that the natural course of the status quo will carry us through this crisis. And so we wait and do little to effect the change our state needs.

Regardless of whether you are the staunchest advocate for Barack Obama education reform or an ardent believer in our current course, it is hardly arguable that our state fails to embrace an open, healthy, vibrant public dialogue about education issues without retreating into rigid stereotypes.

Our dialogue around education policy is a poor reflection of our better nature.

Propose an education policy idea in Olympia? You are immediately classified in the internal context of two frameworks:’privatization-driven education reform camp or the ‘WEA apologist’ camp.

We are an entrepreneurial, innovative, creative and energetic state that listens intently to customers when it comes to some of the most influential companies in the world. Education is not a business: It’s big business. We lose credibility when we pretend that an Educational Industrial Complex does not exist that often prioritizes adult financial interests over childens’ educational interests.

But our public policy dialogue around education too often lacks a similar nuance and texture, depth and honesty, reflection and thought. We spend more time and energy rationalizing than executing. We seem to frequently launch a search for excuses and those whom we can blame.

Seattle’s inability to attract and retain great leaders is not an accident, it is a reflection of our unwillingness to own the hard work together of improving our schools and openly dealing with seemingly intractable academic challenges.

We have lost our ability to hear the silence of education policy. A proposal to allow six Teach for America instructors to enter classrooms will turn out hundreds of angry constituents but a major public hearing about a 73% on-time graduation rate is virtually empty? A modest proposal to allow a modest experiment with modest public charter schools to support our most failing schools–where perhaps 10% of African American youth are at grade level in math and 90% are underachieving–is viewed as a radical march toward privatization rather than a modest effort to try something new?

When Washington State applied for a Race to the Top grant and came in 32 out of 36 states, there was deafening silence in our lack of willingness to make it a teachable moment.

A standard operating procedure of the high tech community–debriefing and learning openly and courageously–was too hot for us to handle politically.

The Race to the Top experience was quietly filed away in a drawer in Olympia. There was no open discussion about what we could learn from the experience. The learning from thousands of hours of research, task forces, studies, consultant hours, parental meetings, teacher discussions and more were all lost to our fear of an open public discussion about why we scored near the very bottom in the nation.

The recent endorsement of Rob McKenna for Governor by the education advocacy group Stand for Children is easy for critics of education reform to dismiss. The organization is politically aggressive in the context of education reform and the establishment prefers to respond to their proposals with what some might consider patronizing contempt rather than engagement on the merits.

Stand for Children, a leading advocacy group for children founded with the hands-on support of progressive icon and Children’s Defense Fund founder Marian Wright Edelman, endorses the top Republican in the state in an open gubernatorial race and the only response is cryptic denial of it’s importance? It is easy to rationalize, justify and excuse the decision as somehow innocuous or irrational or politically driven, but Jay Inslee is unlikely to be the next governor if he personally and the Democratic establishment structurally does not hear the silence of this quiet move.

Leading Seattle entrepreneur Nick Hanauer has argued that the Democratic Party has lost its way on the issue of education. The response to his clarion call to the Democratic Party is less about the moral outrage of an undereducated society in a global economy–and the substance of the issues themselves such as how to bring innovation to public education– and more about an anti-education reform litmus test.

This interim between legislative sessions a group of legislators is scheduled to seriously examine the funding options around the McClearly lawsuit requiring the state to fully fund the paramount duty of public education. The only path forward is a sense of conviction to work together: Teacher’s unions and education reformers, Democrats and Republicans, urban and rural, parents, teachers, students, business leaders and more. More money for public education is vital and essential but it is not the sole answer; the money must be wisely invested into meaningful results. New money cannot be seen simply as a ‘backfill’ for previous cuts, it must be seen by the public as an investment in something new and energetic and invigorating in our schools that gets to the heart of addressing a 73% on time graduation rate. In my progressive urban district, I hear the message that people want to touch and feel meaningful value for new dollars in public education. It’s our job collectively to figure out what that looks like.

Open and free access to a world-class education is the opportunity that defines the creation of America’s middle class and our social system of civic and economic engagement. Everyone wants to lift up our state and nation to prepare our children for tomorrow’s challenges. What unites us is so much more powerful and alive than what divides us.

I am proud to stand with Barack Obama in my belief that education reform is not an optional department down the hall. The question is whether the Democratic Party will shake free of the institutional grip of the status quo or whether we as a party and a movement will rejuvenate our nation’s deeply held belief in change.

None of this is to suggest that any one policy idea is the magic solution. But charting a course forward requires us to hear the silence of the children as well as the noise of the grownups. It’s not anti-union to question the inability of a principal to select a teacher for her building. It’s not anti-education reform to ask that teacher evaluations be conducted with dignity and fairness.

If you listen intently and purposely, I believe you can hear the people of our state making the case that world-class public education is not a department down the hall in Olympia. It’s the gig.

We are so much more than what we’ve become.

Your partner in service

Reuven.

For the past few weeks I’ve been in engulfed in a fun, engaging whirlwind of concentric circles of personal reflection.

First, the 2012 Legislative Session slammed into a final conclusion with a intense 22 hour marathon. Second, I returned full force at a critical time with my company in the software industry. Third, my daughter Liat’s Bat Mitzvah occurred where the blessings of family and friend descended upon us. And fourth, my mother’s newly published memoir–Torch in the Dark–arrived in a box in the mail.

Items one through three are the relatively normal comings and goings of a husband, father, entrepreneur and citizen legislator. Number four, however, is both more unusual and strangely emotionally demanding.

I’m proud of my mother’s accomplishment even if I naturally don’t necessarily see everything through the same lens that she presents.

It’s a strange enough feeling to read about some of the most intimate, difficult, emotionally charged and intense moments of your life in the third person. It’s even more unusual to do so as a part of someone else’s story even if that ‘someone else’ is one’s mother.

Hadiyah has been writing her memoir and honing her skills as a writer for ten to 12 years and has boxes of additional material that didn’t make the final edit.

Since most readers here haven’t read her book, I’ll say that it’s the story of her struggle as a single mother in the turbulent streets and hippie communes of 1960s and 1970s as she journeys toward emotional recovery and economic self-reliance as a union welder. Many of the stories that she selects seem like yesterday, and the color, nuance and richness of the events are in high definition. It’s raw, punchy and direct. It’s painful and perhaps even funny. But it’s her story, not mine.

My feelings overall are driven by a sense of amazement that I am here at all. Alive. Connected. Spiritually engaged in a life oriented around fatherhood, marriage, work and service to the community. I have sometimes spoken openly about the chaos of my childhood, sometimes used to political advantage the story of my mother’s pioneering efforts as a woman in the trades, sometimes felt deep shame and humiliation for those things I did not learn about the norms and values fostered in a more traditional home setting, but I always recognized that I had to look deep within me myself find the strength to deal with the emotional roller coaster of my life.

One story: When I hitchhiked with Willie, an 18-year old ‘friend’ across the country at age seven it was an extraordinary, strange, interesting, exciting, frightening and daring trip. Hadiyah writes about how she drove us to the entrance of Interstate 5 in Bellingham (Lakeway Drive, I remember it vividly) and dropped us off, we looked at one another as we stood alongside the road and said, “I can’t believe she’s letting us do this, doesn’t this seem a little over the top?!” After our second ride the novelty wore off and I realized quickly that this was serious business in terms of safety, responsibility and keeping my wits about me. I wasn’t frightened as much as thoughtful and somber about the importance of adding value to Willie as he tried to figure out the next ride, next location, where to sleep, what to eat. It was survival along the highway jungle and something told me that my job was to keep it all together and not let fear drive behavior.

Fortunately, in 1972, rides came easily and we rarely had to wait too long. The looks of amazement on the faces of those who picked us up can only be described as pure astonishment. Mostly truck drivers but also families with vans, couples and so many others.

We were stranded in Denver for hours along a busy, dangerous, loud highway. I was chilled to the bone and for the first time I was seriously afraid, a sense of terror gripping me that we would be crushed under the weight of a passing truck that didn’t see us along the side of the interstate. As the time passed I more than once visualized my small body thrown across the highway as the massive rigs roared by. I gripped the side of the highway and turned my back to the traffic as Willie searched the eyes of passing drivers for a ride. A giant truck finally stopped and swept us into the safety of the cab, away from the dangerous road.

My favorite ride was a group of young men in a small sports car with a nice big dog in the back. We crammed our way into the car and it soon became clear that our hosts were out and about in a small town, rural party mood. They were drinking heavily, speeding and laughing all the way. Once they realized the extent of our situation and their unique guests, they resolved that they would help us go as far as possible. Since we were somewhere near the western side of Wyoming, there was almost nothing for miles and miles and miles. My recollection is that they drove us nearly all night long as I sat in the back listening to Willie and our hosts talk about life, adventure, risk and seeing the country in an almost Jack Kerouac cliche. I recall waking as the sun rose along the beautiful Wyoming prairie and our hosts having a near coronary of distress with the realization that they had driven us hundreds of miles and they would not make it back home in time for work. They dropped us off, turned around and headed back west.

We continued on for a total of 6 to 8 days. We found a place to stay at generous strangers’ home’s each night. Only once did I feel a sense of extreme discomfort when I could sense activity inappropriate to a young kid. Finally, arriving in Atlanta, the story and energy and ability to keep it together fell apart, Willie was tired of it all, and I could tell it was simply over. I called my grandfather who arranged a flight to Newark, New Jersey. I was completely exhausted but also aware that I had done something totally, completely outside of the normal bounds of common sense and even reality. At one point, I even found myself laughing a bit at the absurdity of it all and Willie and I decided that we deserved merit badges of some sort. I thought of my friend at home in Bellingham in Cub Scouts who received a merit badge for helping a neighbor weed her garden.

The stories and reflections go on.

For me, I realized early on that I had to fine-tune a sophisticated sense of emotional intelligence to survive. Knowing that I often had to rely on myself to get fed, dressed, back and forth to school and educated in other ways, and make some money, it occurred to me that finding safe adults who would offer their mentorship and support was vital. I have been fortunate to find many such mentors: Jack O’Connor, Melody Miller, Featherstone Reid.

There is not a day that goes by that I don’t reflect upon the journey to this time and place. There is not a moment that does not pass that I don’t feel the deepest spiritual appreciation for the luck, blessing, gift of having survived through the difficult years of Hadiyah’s experience and having the opportunity to raise a family. Sometimes I stop in the hallway of my own home and look at the stunning view from Queen Anne of Seattle, Elliot Bay, ferries and reflect upon the good fortune of being alive. When Mt. Rainier is shining in the distance from my bedroom window, the view of the volcano takes me back to my old room in our house in Bellingham when I used to stare through another window in another lifetime at the snow covered Mt. Baker. I stood for hours at that window struggling to make sense of the emotional chaos, fear, anger, resentment and pain that circled around me. And somehow even at times finding peace and humor.

Like all of us, I have many faults, many challenges, many weaknesses. I feel my own failings deeply and am hard on myself for those things I do not do well. But one quality I do posses and that stays with me each and everyday when I open my eyes: Gratitude for the beautiful gift of life.

I hope you will read Hadiyah’s book. You can find out more about it at www.torchinthedark.com. You can purchase it here on Amazon although the Kindle version won’t be available until summer. I’m proud of her accomplishment in writing it. Maybe one day I’ll write my own.

Your partner in service,

Reuven.

Today, few dynamics more astutely represent the soul of our state’s broader political discourse, debate and engagement than the complex duality of “Seattle nice”: On the one hand a profound deference to a full public process and expression of individual voice, and on the other an extreme political clumsiness about tackling serious controversy.

This duality in many ways defines us, excites us and sometimes paralyzes us. For example, fear of addressing structurally important ‘systems issues’ ensures we lethargically retreat into the most economically inefficient and inequitable tax structure in the nation. The tunnel ‘debate’ took 10 years and was settled only with a firm majority likely expressing exhaustion with the issue more than a design preference. And yet we appreciate elected representatives who know how to listen, and we respect a decision making process that is fair, open and transparent.

On the international front, underneath the narrow section of the political surface in our state today is a simmering philosophical battle about the Israeli and Palestinian debate. This debate is obviously not unique to Washington. For some distressing reason, however, here in Washington the track record is that it is often out of bounds of our normal definition of ‘Seattle nice.’

We are an educated, progressive, innovative and engaged community, but on this issue we have failed to demand of ourselves a level of dialogue befitting our state’s broader communal expectations–and our history of moderation and deep policy reflection.

The story of the Seattle LGBT Commission snubbing representatives from Israel is, unfortunately, merely the latest insult. The silence to this assault upon our city’s gracious welcome to the stranger–ironically a value from all Middle Eastern cultures–from Seattle’s progressive community is deafening.

The headline brings me to share a similar story. In the past few months I have privately engaged in multiple efforts to look at the unrelenting wave of anti-Israel sentiments that consistently expresses itself in many ways as anti-Jewish on the campus of The Evergreen State College.

My goal as a legislator who is actively Jewish is not to shame, tear down or intimidate but to lift up our dialogue. I seek, as the students of Hillel at Evergreen clearly do, to support the Evergreen and Olympia communities in a meaningful dialogue about an issue of profound moral importance to the world’s political stage. But to do so with quiet dignity, respect, honor, ethical values of civility, and religious integrity. To show those with whom I disagree on this issue the power of positive engagement. To live by example if at all possible.

Following extensive discussions in the past few years with concerned Jewish community leaders at the local, regional and international level, I felt a need to privately express my similarly-held reservations with the leadership of The Evergreen State College in Olympia about the wave of aggressive anti-Israeli sentiments that unquestionably dominates the campus community. A few months ago I requested a private meeting with President Les Purce and Provost Michael Zimmerman to better understand their views, values, hopes and expectations. Our conversation was thoughtful, respectful, engaged and positive on all fronts. Still, I found myself reflecting upon the sentiment that the college is on a journey of discovery on this issue where academic wonder for the sake of intellectual growth is not the master.

It is widely recognized from Seattle to Jerusalem that Evergreen is considered a strong home not only of anti-Israeli sentiment, but a platform for a community of political activists dedicated to the Palestinian cause of equality and statehood. That is not, of course, inherently a problem in and of itself. Given history of the terribly painful loss of Rachel Corrie, it is perhaps indeed understandable.

The larger structural problem, as I see it, is the pull of self righteousness from administrators, faculty, trustees and students as to the argument that Evergreen is too intellectually and academically nuanced for outsiders to understand.

My modest question of why it seems literally no representatives from Israel–academic, government, arts, music, cultural, business, labor or others–have in 10 years been invited to visit campus and courageously discuss (in a safe, open, academic environment) the difficult issues together was answered with a respectful but methodical response that the administration has no role in fostering academic openness relative to the power, authority and expectations of faculty.

If the marketplace of ideas is managed by the faculty, it is telling that there are untold examples of guests proactively invited to campus from decidedly anti-Israel positions, organizations, groups and causes. I was told that the nuance of academic freedom at Evergreen means there is no administrative role about the fact that not one Evergreen faculty member felt an inclination to invite even one ‘pro Israel’ educator, musician, artist, politician, peace activist, judge, student leader, architect, scientist or professor to engage in an academically-driven discussion about the complex Israeli-Palestinian issues in more than a decade.

In this institution of higher education, that prides itself on its visionary pedagogical approach to higher education, it seems no academically-driven pedagogical patterns have emerged in the past 10 years that would include an invitation to representatives from Israel to engage in a multi-sided or socratic conversation about the Israeli-Palestinian issue. As you might imagine, I struggle to appreciate the nuance in that approach.

How is it even possible that despite the campus’ firm positioning on the internationally charged issue, it seems literally no one from Israel or from what might be even casually be called a ‘pro Israel’ position has been even so much as invited to campus to attempt to help elevate the profoundly complex dialogue? The reason, according to administrators, is that Evergreen faculty have not expressed a desire to do so. The college administration has taken steps, in their view, to promote diversity of expression, academic freedom, rigorous intellectualism. A Jewish Studies instructor was hired on a 6-month basis to co-teach one course.

While I admire the administration’s personal candor and clear conviction–and their heartfelt desire not to be defined on the world stage as among the most virulent anti-Israeli campuses–on both a substantive and policy level I am unable to translate their protestations of progress into a language I can understand.

Naturally, one could argue that it is inappropriate for a legislator to directly question the critical-thinking pedagogy and methods of student learning employed by our colleges and universities. I would argue that, in fact, it does matter that we ensure a rich, diverse culture of learning that is safe for the minority viewpoint. Whether a far right conservative Republican or a pro-Israeli Jewish student, it’s difficult to sense that on this campus true academic freedom genuinely, meaningfully and safely includes students who speak alone.

As we well know, Evergreen is highly regarded as one of the most innovative educational experiences in the nation. There is dignity in that recognition and I honor that acknowledgment as a citizen, taxpayer and legislator. Nonetheless, my instinct tells me that when it comes to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, tyranny of the majority reins uncontested.

We are so much more than what we’ve become.

Your partner in service,

Reuven.

Reblogged from Official Reuven Carlyle Blog:

Sen. Magnuson and 15-year-old page Reuven Carlyle in 1980

The defining political event of my life was the opportunity to serve as Sen. Warren G. Magnuson’s last congressional page. What I learned from Magnuson was the core human value of mentorship that flowed through his soul. Carrying the distinguished badge as one of Magnuson’s “bumblebees” is something that I treasure and that changed the very course of my life.

Read more… 523 more words

Vaclav Havel died today at the age of 75.

It’s striking that on the day that both Vaclav Havel and Kim Jung Il died, there are few mentions of Havel relative to the 7×24 cable coverage of the predicted chaos of North Korea.

I have long found Havel to be almost a purified symbol of political courage. He was one of only 242 people to sign the Charter 77, a document that set the foundation for the Velvet Revolution itself and, in turn, the collapse of the Soviet Union. He served five years in prison for that signature.

But it was something besides his moral grounding, something less related to any one position or campaign or battle.

Interestingly like Teddy and Franklin Roosevelt, he grew up with wealth and because of it felt a courageous sense of responsibility to demand fairness. It is almost as if–being part of the 1 percent–these leaders could not stomach the moral inconsistency of economic and political inequity for the 99%.

Above all, it was his mistress of words that elevated art and politics into an affair of quiet but fervent action. People found meaning not only in dissent but in cooperation and non violence.

I have long been captivated by Havel’s stories, his journey, his moral grounding and words.

“Hope is definitely not the same thing as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.”

“I really do inhabit a system in which words are capable of shaking the entire structure of government, where words can prove mightier than ten military divisions.”

“Even a purely moral act that has no hope of any immediate and visible political effect can gradually and indirectly, over time, gain in political significance.”

“Despite all the political misery I am confronted with every day, it still is my profound conviction that the very essence of politics is not dirty; dirt is brought in only by wicked people. I admit that this is an area of human activity where the temptation to advance through unfair actions may be stronger than elsewhere, and which thus makes higher demands on human integrity. But it is not true at all that a politician cannot do without lying or intriguing. That is sheer nonsense, often spread by those who want to discourage people from taking an interest in public affairs. Of course, in politics, just as anywhere else in life, it is impossible and it would not be sensible always to say everything bluntly. Yet that does not mean one has to lie. What is needed here are tact, instinct and good taste.”

It’s hard not to feel in our day that the political discourse of our time, our nation, our state has been brought low not because we don’t know how to elevate our dialogue but because we are afraid to challenge ourselves to think, act, reflect and stand outside of today’s narrow comfort zone.

Havel stood outside of the comfort zone of complicity. He did not pander to the lowest common denominator: He spoke up to everyone because he treasured their dignity, their intelligence, their dreams and it unleashed a nation to find its own voice.

We are so much more than what we’ve become.

Your partner in service,

Reuven.

It’s an honor to announce that between January 2009 and today this blog has received 100,000 visits. (No, my own visits don’t count!) As I’ve mused as a husband, father, entrepreneur and citizen legislator I have attempted to promote a meaningful public dialogue about issues facing real people living real lives in the 36th District, Seattle, our state and nation.

One of my goals has been to challenge the institutional infrastructure of state government to raise its game, to acknowledge the importance of humility in government, the teachable moments that are possible through failure, the dignity and honor of public service, the need for respect, the hunger in our nation for systems change.

For citizens in the 36th District–among the most educated citizens in the state– and across Washington I have attempted to challenge the pathology of political pandering.

All power remains with the public under our Constitution, but that does not absolve a moral and public obligation of elected officials to educate fellow citizens–to challenge you when stale ideas warrant prodding–and not merely to retreat to the lowest common denominator. We elect leaders to think, act, study, assess complex public policies and to educate fellow citizens–not merely to parrot rhetorical slogans that turn a phrase.

The role that I prefer in this forum is to push, prod and agitate for new ideas and change. To question the grip of the status quo inside and outside of government. I attempt to raise authentic issues, to engage with citizens, to ponder ‘systems’ issues that can help us think outside the proverbial box.

I’ve grown and changed a lot since starting this being sworn in as a legislator and beginning this blog. My idealism remains intact and my sense of urgency for change has only grown. My resentment about the power of the bureaucracy and monopolies has grown as well. My concern for our nation’s future has grown exponentially as I consider–and confront– the true implications of the dominance of money in the political arena.

The 99% movement is touching something deep in our country’s hunger for a fair deal. The issue today is not merely whether taxes are too high or low but whether we have so eviscerated our democracy with pandering to voters–a message that everyone can have everything at no cost and a campaign contribution system that undermines us all–without regard to the implications.

The relationship between direct and representative democracy is also a victim of today’s system. Initiatives are seen as pure democratic messages when, in fact, they are highly sophisticated financial and political operations that make The Candidate look sincere.

My views are, obviously, both unedited and unpolished. I write frequently late at night, early in the morning or even scribble notes while walking to my downtown business office.

There are some members of the Legislature who find direct public dialogue of a personal blog distasteful. I’ve been ribbed by some as a media hound, something I find interesting because the only thing stopping other members from blogging is $24 a year and a willingness to engage with words by producing original content.

I have had a few conversations in the corners of the House and Senate chambers where colleagues told me they found a particular post inappropriate either because I revealed too much of the inside game or came too close to some political line written in a different era. I accept that criticism to a point. In the early days some said with a hint of both concern and intimidation, “now don’t go blogging about this but…” But I also know that if some of those legislators were more engaged in the power of social media–the activism of yesterday fueled with today’s technology–they would be closer to Goldy or The Shark than they might imagine.

With so few reporters left covering Olympia, isn’t there today a higher obligation of legislators than in the past to engage in a courageously honest public conversation about real issues? To expose inefficiency? To challenge old ideas? To question authority? To ponder issues and ideas more openly?

An extensive search of blogs by state legislators around the nation suggests, informally and without hard data, that this is one of the most widely read blogs by a state legislator. The daily hit rate now ranges from 100-700 visits. I post once, twice or more a week.

I try and honor your visit by saying something real.

In the time that I’ve attempted to bring a sense of ‘courageous honesty’ to our public dialogue, I have also learned a great deal from you. Readers have made numerous comments and sent untold emails to me privately. I remain proud that my blog also has been granted an elevated status by the state House administration to maintain a direct link from my official legislative site because I have religiously avoided any campaign-related statements. I have also made disclosures of any financial or other interests that are material to readers’ knowledge and perspective.

I particularly appreciate the hundreds of public employees who contribute ideas, thoughts, criticisms and comments about how to make the opportunity and challenge of public service more effective and engaged.

In the coming days and weeks I will repost some of my favorite muses. Let me know if you have any you think are worth a second look.

Thank you so very much for 100,000 visits!

Your partner in service,

Reuven.

Last week in the House Ways & Means Committee we held an emotional hearing about the serious ramifications of proposed budget cuts on small, critical care hospitals in primarily rural areas. From Sunnyside to Willapa, Dayton to Othello, the impact could be devastating given that Medicaid reimbursements could fall by half. The lost state dollars trigger losses in federal matching dollars as well putting many of these facilities in serious financial hardship.

Twenty nine Republican House members and three Democrats recently signed a letter to the Governor making the case why House Bill 2130 should be defeated. The bill, an essential piece of the state budget work in the Special Session, would eliminate Medicaid cost-based reimbursement to the state’s Critical Access Hospitals, a move that would severly impact rural communities. It would potentially reduce reimbursement from Olympia by more than $50 million but those cuts also trigger losses in federal matching dollars so the net hit is doubled.

The impassioned letter was signed by representatives of rural communities statewide. The somber anxiety on the faces of CEOs of these small hospitals was deeply moving. The fear that some these communities could lose their small hospitals is palpable.

Critical Access Hospitals have fewer than 25 inpatient beds, provide 24 hour emergency services, serve rural areas and are long distances from the next closest hospital. There are 38 such of these hospitals representing 40 percent of the total hospitals in the state and serving two-thirds of the area of the state, according to the letter.

And yet.

Once again–like levy equalization and other programs designed to mitigate the effects of rural and property-poor communities– the issue serves as a powerfully symbolic representation of the philosophical inconsistency of those who generically claim government spending is out of control while at the same time seeking funding for local priority projects.

While these legislators argue strenuously, valiantly and understandably against these cuts, some of them have also signed an anti-tax pledge to resist any and all new revenues under any circumstances regardless of the public value of public services. Many of them have made fierce political arguments that government spending is out of control in Olympia and dramatic even radical cuts must be made. Many of these signatory legislators make the case that health care costs for Medicaid–a central driver of the increasing costs in state government–are ‘out of control.’

And so we are faced, once again, with the philosophical inconsistency by which at the rhetorical political level government spending is eviscerated as irresponsible while at the tangible level it is seen as extremely valuable for the economic, social and educational survival of rural communities.

Critical Access Hospitals play a vital role in access to affordable health care. I strongly support them and hope we can find a source of revenue to continue such reimbursements. Ironically, the largest provider of Medicaid services in the state is Harborview, a Seattle-based regional treasure that many of these same legislators have no compunction to cut.

I have argued publicly for a courageously honest public conversation about how tax dollars flow, who pays and who benefit, and what type of state we wish to be. I do this not to arrogantly throw elbows against subsidies for rural communities but to challenge the anti-government, anti-tax, anti-public service rhetoric of those who pretend that such philosophical inconsistency is sustainable.

I do this to attempt to genuinely educate the public about the true cost of asking for disproportionately higher public spending in education, health care, transportation, capital budgets and so much more all the while sending legislators to Olympia who prioritize anti-tax pledges to Washington, D.C.-based anti-government organizations.

If, as some argue, we have a massive state budget deficit because spending from Olympia is out of control, we have that deficit in large because we can no longer sustain an unbalanced status quo by which only 6 primarily urban counties are ‘net contributor’ of taxes while 33 primarily rural are ‘net recipient’ counties.

Our rural communities are part of the soul of our state’s glorious history and residents deserve the same quality education and health care that urban communities receive. I am not troubled by the massively unbalanced subsidy of tax dollars from state government to rural areas, I am troubled by the disingenuous political arguments of those who pretend those subsidies don’t exist and prioritize anti-tax pledges above all else.

We are so much more than what we’ve become.

Your partner in service,

Reuven.

The juxtaposition of Thanksgiving alongside the chill winter rain had me in a melancholy and gray mood ponderous of the challenges I’ll face next week as a member of the Ways & Means Committee in the Special Session of the Legislature to deal with budget cuts.

Amidst a quiet day I stumbled upon this video from the students of Renton Technical College and my day was transformed. The music lifted me up, the message stirred me and I felt invigorated to tackle our challenges anew.

For whatever reason–the pent up stress, the anxiety of traveling to Olympia leaving Wendy to manage the household alone, the time-sensitive issues around my day job in software–came rushing out and the tears streamed from my face as I saw a reflection in the mirror in the video. I could imagine the hours spent preparing the script, music, production, schedule and roles. I could envision myself behind the camera organizing such a quiet, dignified lobbying effort that speaks more elegantly than any lobbyist dinner.

I had the honor of serving on the State Board for Community and Technical Colleges, one of the first appointments made by Gov. Gregoire after her contested election in 2004. My term on the board was invigorating, exciting, interesting and painfully frustrating. At times the lethargy of the institutional infrastructure is enraging and the resistance to change overwhelming, but through amazing, dedicated service at 34 college statewide–and a tremendous Olympia team–by thousands of instructors and administrators the lives of people are transformed through hands-on training, workforce development, ESL, adult basic education and academic transfer programs.

Because of my impatience I was not always the easiest board member, but I did what I could to push, prod and agitate for progressive reforms of the institutional infrastructure. I learned a great deal and tried to contribute. I wish that my frustration was more contained but, alas, that is from the fierce ‘urgency of now’ to see meaningful change that burns within my soul. My colleague Scott White, and others who are skilled in the art of patience and subtly, had a type of internal cooling system that I do not possess yet so admire.

My commitment to building the community and technical college system remains unmovable and I treasure the experience that such service gave me. While I often make loud public noises about many issues, the most productive work I’ve done centers around a number of important initiatives in higher education, notably the open course library initiative outlined here, and local tuition setting authority for our four year institutions.

We must invest in public education, it is the solution to our national challenges and the path forward. There is not an elected official from Barack Obama and Newt Gingrich to Jay Inslee and Rob McKenna–and myself–who has not uttered some version of those words. But when do we decide to live it, to believe it, to act upon it? When does it become our strategy forward and not merely a sales pitch?

On the 2012 campaign trail and in Olympia now there is substantive discussion about a major transportation package, a major jobs package, a major revenue package. But at the heart of our strategy should be a courageous next generation GI Bill for Education so that every person in our state can access the opportunity of life-long learning. Let’s double down on our higher education system. Let’s spend money. Let’s invest. Let’s be the state where the idea of world-class education is so much more than rhetoric, so much more accessible and viable than we allow today.

Renton Technical College students and hundreds of thousands more across our state: I hear the small, still voice of your lobbying and the thunderous impact is reaching Olympia.

We are so much more as a state and nation than what we’ve become.

Your partner in service,

Reuven.

It is standard fair for most of us to walk through the haze of holidays without making much effort to go deeper, to reflect harder, to connect with the more personally relevant meaning. The rampant commercialism of our society erodes our sense of spirituality with a reckless abandon and flippancy that is astonishing in scope.

This year I am grateful for the opportunity to enjoy the love and health of my wife and children, the wonder of community, the dignity of public service and so much more. Each and every day I strive to appreciate all that I have been given, all that I’ve been lucky enough to discover, all of the dreams that I’ve realized in this journey.

And yet, this year, in facing the loss of my friend Scott White it is difficult for those positive feelings to overcome the awful pain of deep sadness.

I find myself reflecting upon Scott’s death not only through the eyes of parent and friend but as a citizen of the world. It is not only that he was likely headed for much higher office, but that he himself had talents yet undiscovered to accomplish so much as a husband, father, public official and citizen.

Alison White, at Scott’s moving memorial service, spoke eloquently of the interplay between his public and private lives, the force of his personality and the intellectual gymnastics that he enjoyed about real issues. Her ability to lead 2,000 grieving people through a memorial service was beyond touching–it was a moment of such spiritual and emotional dignity and strength that I found myself unable to remain settled or contained in my resentment at why it was necessary. His death feels so bitter, so angry, as if God wanted to throw a fierce storm of rage at the world to remind everyone of the importance of feeling gratitude for what we have.

“Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues but the parent of all the others.” Cicero.

I feel gratitude this year for what I have, who I am and the values I strive to live everyday. My sensitivities and emotional connection to that appreciation is made starker, more tender, more nuanced and softer by the loss of a friend.

May your Thanksgiving bring you joy, love and the blessings of gratitude.

Your partner in service,

Reuven.

My dear friend:

There are no words to express the sense of loss that Wendy, the children and I feel at your stunning death. There are no routine press statements or common political refrains that can touch the soul of how I feel. I mourn not as your colleague in the state legislature but as a husband and father of young children.

There are no answers or explanations. There is only the dark chill of pain that runs through my heart as I reflect upon the journey faced by your wonderful wife, children and family during this most unfathomable time.

In 2008 you and I would call, text and email everyday as we both struggled in our first political campaigns. You were the consummate insider and professional with vast experience in both the policy and political aspects of running for office. I was so impressed and even at times intimidated with the depth of your political acumen. Nearly everyday we would do so much more than compare notes and strategize operationally, we would give each other the deeply personal moral support that a first-time candidate needs in a titanic battle.

We arrived in Olympia together, part of an unusually united and passionate “class of 2008,” and began our journey of public life with awe and appreciation for the opportunity to serve. You always showed so much respect for the institution of public service itself.

You had the fine tuned skill of a professional public servant not merely because of your vast experience in public life at a young age but because of your deep conviction to stand for the people’s right to good government.

You were the best of the noble ideal and dignity of community service.

As the headlines fade and the numbness subsides, I pray that you will know that your family, friends and community treasured the opportunity to know and love you.

You will not be forgotten.

Your family is not alone.

Your partner in service,

Reuven.