El Presupuesto

Pretty much every year since spouse and I started working for the federal government in 2010, there's been some form of political gridlock surrounding the country's finances. I can't remember the last time there's been a regular budget. And now,  we're once again facing two threats of shutting down the government. While the spouse probably will be working come Tuesday if the government shuts down, I almost certainly will not. This is where I say "not cool, Republicans, not cool."

I truly believe in a  non-political federal civil service. Honestly. At work I will enact a policy whether it's a Republican or Democratic policy (God forbid we include other parties in our system, but that's a rant for another day). I still believe in the right to express my political position in my personal life and even in small talk at the office, but I also swore an oath to the constitution and in the end of the day I will discharge the duties of my office as required by the constitution. In other words, the law is the law.

But what happens when one party abrogates its responsibility and is fundamentally opposed to the very idea of governing? Make no mistake, this is not a question of President Obama refusing to negotiate with the U.S. House of Representatives. I would argue that this shutdown crisis is the culmination of President Obama caving too much over the past 5 years and the time has come for an actual confrontation. Speaker Boehner, you don't get to control the entire government just because your party gerrymandered itself into a tenuous majority in one house despite the fact that the majority of the country voted for democrats. 

If I don't work on Tuesday, I'll survive. Spouse and I have some savings, we're not living paycheck to paycheck yet.  But I will be taking to the internets to reach out to all of my friends and family to make sure that they're aware that I am personally affected by Mr. Boehner and the Tea Party's ideological war against the government. And if it goes longer than a day or so, I'll march on the Capitol. I don't have a representative because I'm a resident of the District of Columbia (another rant for another day). So I will call upon the overlords in congress that have self-appointed themselves as my representatives (the congressmen and women that are on committees that oversee the District of Columbia).  I will tell them that I will be using all of my powers to get rid of the scourge of Republican non-governance in the elections next year.

The spouse and I very rarely invest time or money in political activities. Very occasionally we'll donate some money to a cause that we believe in. This shutdown (and the next one if the brinkmanship extends to the debt ceiling fight) will change this. And I hope that this extends to our family and friends. This may be the catalyst to move the country back from crazy to an actual sane policy. 

Look, I'm the first to admit that the Democratic Party has issues. It's a very wide tent of people that only vaguely have the same principles and values. But at least they want to govern responsibly. So Speaker Boehner as the news unfolds over the next few days and weeks, remember this one simple fact: actions have consequences. And we in the federal workforce will make this country remember.

Los Libros

Lately I've been reading a lot. I know many FSOs and world travelers who gorge themselves on a ton of books (or internet sites or whatever) about their future assignment from the moment that they discover that they're going to a new place in order to learn every single thing that they can before going. These people probably are very much more prepared to live and navigate the culture that they're about to enter. My motives for reading are a bit more escapist in nature. Though I'm learning and trying to remember all the lessons that a new diplomat needs to be sent out into the world, in the quiet of evening I try to decompress and turn to the content of my bookshelves. There are always a few travelogues or Lonely Planet guides... but far more numerous are books from genres only tangentially related to travel. You're far more likely to see me reading a classic (or maybe not so classic) science fiction or fantasy novel than a book exploring the political culture of country X,Y, or Z.  My audiobook queue is filled with David McCullough books on the history of great American people or their works. 

The thing about these genres (history, science fiction, fantasy) is that they make you think. Science fiction and fantasy are all about the counterfactuals. What if the world or the laws of nature were different? What will the world or galaxy or universe be in 10, 50, 100, or 1000 years? Really they're both genres on a continuum that goes from plausible to extraordinary. Meanwhile, histories force us to examine and reexamine the meaning of our culture and worldview. In looking to the past, we hope to gain some insight for future paths. As a great philosopher once said (somewhat ironically echoing the sayings of older philosphers) "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." 

Which brings us back to books. I've lately had some rather broad discussions with the spouse and others on the utility of paper books. I understand the portability factor of e-readers and the interactive interface that makes looking up a word (foreign or otherwise) with the touch of a finger. And I admit to using my tiny little iphone more and more for quick web browsing. But it's going to be a long and painful process for me to abandon the printed word. I feel a tremendous feeling of awe and anticipation when I open a book for the first time. There're so many possibilities that could be contained within it. And from a very early age I was taught that the library is a sacred space for our civilization. 

So I will continue to read, and continue to learn, and continue to think about the what ifs of this world. It's my way of preventing calcification and cynicism. And this messed up world could use a little optimism and what ifs, I think.

Los Trabajadores

Unlike most of the rest of the world, the United States celebrates its workers in September rather than May first. Although the urban legend is that we do this because we didn't want to be communists, the truth is that we wanted to divorce what should be a tranquil holiday for working-men and women from the anniversary of an unfortunate incident involving bomb-toting anarchists. Regardless, I like to spend the holiday at least briefly reflecting about what it means to work in this country.

So much is tied up in the concept of work in this culture. How many times have we heard the phrase "work for a living?" It is a peculiar twist of fate that we seem to have decided to leave out the word "wage" from that phrase. By eliding the concept of the "living wage" we conveniently can forget that the limits on the capitalist system that exist for the benefit of all were put into place via a movement where workers banded together and stated that they would not be exploited any more. This after a century or so of modern exploitation, preceded by centuries of rigid class immobility and little to no concept of a meritocracy. And that's just the history of "Western" economic exploitation. I won't even get into the perils of mercantilism, colonization, and unrestrained monopolies/oligarchies. 

It's important to commemorate the progress that has been made in society. Things like the Forty Hour Work Week, the Eight-hour day, weekends, child labor laws, occupational health and safety laws and more. We sometimes scoff at how arbitrary it all seems. And how restrictive some of the labor protection laws are. Managers and business owners are often tempted to skirt some of the laws in the name of better productivity and increased output. But there is sound data that indicates a broad consensus on how much work can and should be squeezed out of the average person.  Safety protections are generally there for a reason.  

I'm happy that we have Labor Day, because this is the day to stop working and think about the conditions of our workers. It's not just a day for barbecues and transitioning from summer to fall. The day means something special to all those people that sacrificed their laws to put a system in place to make life a little better for future generations. And for the people that continue to fight for their rights and the rights of their fellow workers. 

Juramos

One of the things I like best about public service is the commitment we all make to a set of ideals and principles. We're a country founded on ideals, which is fairly unique around the world. And the first day when we join the government in service we swear an oath to defend those ideals. We don't swear loyalty to a king or queen, to an ethnicity or a creed, but to an idea... a set of principles.

It's a word we don't use as much anymore, oath. For me, it conjures up images of knights or fantasy novels or something vaguely British. But I'll tell you what it means to me. It means that my wife and I have pledged our honor to this country. There's really no turning back now. And we will serve the American people to the best of our ability by always remembering the founding principles of our country while doing our work. 

I've taken the oath at least four times for my various positions in the government. Every time, every time, I tear up a little. A few times that was because I was in the presence of many other people taking the oath with me and all I could think about was how honored I was to be in the company of so many people who also believe in service to their country. Enough to swear an oath at least. Other times I was just a little awed by the power of the words and the universality of the oath. With only very minor variations, everyone swears the same oath, be the person a janitor, an FSO, or the President of the United States. And that's a truly powerful testament to our ideals and the rule of law. 

So last Friday, these are the words I (and the rest of my classmates) said:

I, [name], do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God.

I meant every word.

Bajo el Mismo Cielo

Some days it's really, really hard.

Something really exciting happens and I can't wait until the end of the day to talk to my spouse about all the cool things that I experienced that day. I do something cool like meet an assistant secretary or tour an amazing office. And I just want to share it with my favorite person in the whole world.

But the spouse is not here. And there's dry cleaning to pick up in Juarez. Or an event with coworkers or friends in DC. Cookies to bake to take to work, lunch to make for tomorrow, a bathroom to clean for house guests.  So we communicate in snatched conversations here and there.  We pick and choose the truly extraordinary events to talk about, and forget the day-to-day. Or we focus on the mundane logistics of when and where we'll see each other again, and leave the extraordinary to rise to the surface unexpectedly months down the line.

We've done this before. But never so married, and never so long. Each time apart is time that we could have been spending together, regardless of whether it makes sense for our respective careers. We just have to keep telling ourselves that it's going to work out and we're going to be together eventually. That at least we're living in a civilized era of Facetime and Skype and long-distance phone calls. And all of those sleepless nights, the cravings for a simple touch, a kiss, or sharing a mundane moment.... we'll stave them off through visits once a month or so. But we won't cure all of them. There will still be those missed connections and opportunity costs from our separate ways.

These are the sacrifices we make. This is the career and the lifestyle that we choose. We try very, very hard to make due. And we don't make a fuss. Stiff upper lip and all that. It's already hard enough, I can't imagine how my colleagues with children do it. We all have our burdens, we just have to hope that some are less permanent than others.

It's going to be a long 15 months.

Juntos: La Misma Bandera

It's been a whirlwind of a couple of weeks. We've had a full course of crazy training, from learning about vouchers to offsite leadership (And before you ask, what happens at the offsite stays at the offsite, so don't ask). And of course Friday was the notorious Flag Day.

This flag day was particularly nerve-wracking for the spouse and I, since we've known for about a year that at least one-half of this here tandem couple is headed to Doha, Qatar in 2014. Since Doha was on the bidlist, it was obviously my/our number one choice, but in State Department world there are no guarantees. So it was with genuine trepidation that we entered that auditorium, hoping that the stars would align.

And then they projected this flag:

And they called my name.

And I learned that our long separation will definitely have an end-date. We will be separate for a year and a half. But at the end of 2014, my spouse and I will once again live together in the same place. Diplomats. Tandem. Together. 

Palabras

Many companies and jobs have a new employee orientation, but none that I know of can match the process of A-100 (the training class for new Foreign Service Officers). The basics of it are pretty well known: six weeks of introduction to the Foreign Service, from the internal HR systems and paperwork through the tools and basic precepts of international diplomacy. But the lessons we're learning go beyond the content of a thousand powerpoint presentations (of which there are plenty). The Department is attempting to inculcate us into a cohesive group that believes in the power of ideas and ideals to change the world. That's some heady stuff there.

One thing that I've personally gotten out of it is the power of words. I've actually been thinking about this a lot lately, in both my personal and professional lives. Words can set the tone of an interaction. They can build up a relationship, or tear one apart. And they're the foundation of our beliefs and ideals, the things that make this country tick. I think sometimes we roll our eyes at the notion of serving the country merely for the sake of a series of pieces of paper, one of which starts with the words "We, the People." We sometimes think it jingoistic to be overly patriotic. But it's those words that set the tone for a whole set of principles, a culture of equality, a society committed to tolerance and freedom and justice. That is what makes this country great. 

And yet. There are also those words that tear us apart. Hypocrite. Totalitarian. War Criminal. Tyranny. Secrecy. Abusers of Power. The words that are anathema to our self-image.  And they are bandied about in our conversations, in our press, and in our dealings with the rest of the world. There are no easy answers. But as the Wire says, we must have a code. And maybe the best that we can do is hold ourselves to that code and follow it where that takes you. 

I believe in America, and the ideals upon which it is founded. Defending and explaining those principles and applying the law, here and abroad. And that's part of my code. Those words: integrity, loyalty, freedom, justice, and equality. These are my words. They are important in my work and at home. And they are powerful.