Tough Crowd: A Conservative Candidate in the Lion’s Den

Things are moving forward. The absent Democratic senators have returned, greeted as heroes by perhaps 100,000 people. Protests are ongoing, although the occupation of the Capitol has been shut down. Ron and I still often show up at lunchtime and sing and chant.

Meanwhile, there’s no rest for us weary citizens—local elections are happening.

Last night, Ron and I went to a forum at the Barrymore Theater to see the current candidates for Madison mayor and county executive. The Barrymore is one of those old theaters with just a few hundred seats, and being in our neighborhood, it’s in the über-liberal heart of a very liberal town. This is a magical land where neighborhood associations thrive, where protest signs are displayed in many home and car windows, where we walk to the co-op for our shopping.

The evening was interesting and lively, with candidates competing but rarely sparring openly. They answered questions about things like regional transit, how to deal with poverty, and, of course, Governor Walker’s budget, which is almost as controversial as his union-busting bill.

Mayor Dave’s main message was that we need to fight Walker’s budget with every bit of strength we have. His challenger, former mayor Paul Soglin, seemed to be running on the platform that “When I was mayor, things were better.”

Joe Parisi, the liberal frontrunner for county exec, was the most eloquent, speaking passionately about issues such as poverty, domestic violence, immigration, and the environment. His opponent, conservative Eileen Bruskewitz, was focused mostly on stimulating business in the county.

It’s Eileen that I want to write about here. She stood out to me in several ways. First, she was the only conservative on the stage, and for her, coming to the Barrymore must have been like entering the lion’s den. She was also the only woman. Her red sweater and white hair stood out next to the dull browns and grays of the suited men at the table.

And finally, she was the only candidate I’d met before.

Ron and I met Eileen a few weeks ago in Fitchburg, a Madison suburb, where she was hosting a Republican meet-and-greet in an Italian restaurant. We were in the restaurant after having dinner with our sole Republican friends, Scott and Carol, who we’ve been meeting with periodically for the last several months. (I’ll write more about them soon.) After dinner, they invited us to listen to Eileen speak.

We came in just as the meet-and-greet was drawing to a close. Her audience was a group of thirty or forty conservative folks, mostly businesspeople. Everyone was standing in a little room off the lobby of the restaurant, and we lingered in the lobby, peering into the room where Eileen stood before her faithful supporters.

I felt sure that we were the only liberals in sight. I surreptitiously looked around, trying to figure out whether I was imagining the differences between me and the others in the room.

They were formally dressed. Was that because of their social status as wealthy businesspeople, or because they were dressed up for the meet-and-greet, or because they were conservative? I felt sloppy with my haphazard scarf and sporty jacket and flushed face, just in from the cold winter air. I thought about how little Ron and I earned compared to the others in the room, and whether this might relate to our political leanings.

One man raised his hand. “You know what I think we really need?” he asked Eileen. “The Democrats, they don’t get it. No matter how much sense Walker is making, they just don’t get that Wisconsin is broke. I’ve talked to them! They don’t get it! What we need is some charts and graphs. Where are the charts and graphs that will help me explain it to them in simple terms? They just don’t think like us; we need to explain it to them simply.”

I became very conscious of the expression on my face, wondering whether to smile benevolently, pretend to be one of them, or look offended.

Eileen’s answer was brilliantly diplomatic. With a warm smile, she started by pointing out that she represents not only Republicans, but Democrats, too—“My district is actually majority Democrat.” She labels herself a fiscal conservative, but she’s been careful not to ally herself with the Republican Party. She didn’t take the man’s bait, didn’t stoop to the easy path of bashing liberals.

Finally, she ended on a note of agreement: “You know, I’ve been saying for some time that we do need more charts and graphs to explain these concepts. So next time you see me, I will have them.” This met with smiles and applause.

After the meet-and-greet was over that night, we lingered and spoke with Eileen, who graciously took several minutes to talk to us. I’m not sure whether she realized we were liberal. She seemed surprised, for instance, to hear that we worked at the Department of Natural Resources.

I found her very pleasant and intelligent, knowledgeable about the inner workings of county government—which makes sense, since she’s on the County Board. She and I agreed on several issues, on the importance of protecting streams from pollution and the relative practicalities of various solutions to the problem.

Last night at the forum, the setting for Eileen was very different. Some of her comments met with applause—Ron and I made sure to clap, even though we’ll vote for her opponent—but she made the fatal error of using the phrase “open for business,” Governor Walker’s favorite phrase.

When she said, “I do believe that the county needs to be open for business,” and started to add, “not to use a phrase that has become…” the rest of her caveat was drowned out by boos.

After that, the crowd was unreceptive to anything she said. A woman behind me twice yelled retorts to her statements. As Eileen talked about saving money, the woman shouted, “And Walker’s giving it to corporations!”

I turned and looked at the woman over my shoulder. She looked beside herself, as if simply unable to contain her venom.

Immediately to my left was another pair of women who spent the entire evening whispering smug, banal retorts to Eileen. They reminded me of the charts-and-graphs man in Fitchburg. When Eileen said that we’re all suffering in the last few years, they said, “Corporations haven’t suffered,” then couldn’t stop snickering. I was ashamed of their behavior.

After the forum ended, Ron and I made a point of approaching Eileen to say hello. Of all the candidates, she had the biggest crowd around her on the stage. We had to wait fifteen minutes to speak with her, and by that time we were the last in the room—the other candidates and voters had trickled out to the lobby.

As we waited, I realized that the crowd around her was mostly composed of people giving her a piece of their minds. We watched as a large, balding man loomed over her, shaking his huge fingers a foot or two from her face, lecturing her about Walker and collective bargaining. “You know what? He didn’t run on it! He fooled them! He got people to vote for him and then he turned it around!”

Eileen tried to point out that she’s not Walker, and that she agreed that his collective bargaining legislation had taken people by surprise. But the man wasn’t listening.

After he left, a sixty-something man ranted to her about teachers’ pensions. “I’m a teacher,” he said, dancing back and forth on the stage with pent-up anger. “I’ve been a teacher for 30 years. And you know something? I don’t trust the Republicans in power.” He said they might cut into his pension, and without the bargaining rights Walker took away, he’s powerless to stop them. He chastised Eileen for not speaking out against Walker, declaring that she should publicly denounce him.

I agreed with much of what the teacher was saying, but I was put off by the way he was saying it. Conversely, while I disagreed with some of the things Eileen said during the forum, I always liked the way she said them. She won’t get my vote, but she definitely gets my respect.

Eileen recognized us. We shook her hand and chatted a little among the small remaining crowd of her aides and friends.

“Politically, we probably stand with most of the people who were here,” Ron said, “But we didn’t always like how they were acting. There’s a lot of divisiveness coming out of the capitol right now, but people here were responding in kind with how they treated you.”

“Yeah; sorry for the rudeness of some of the people here,” I added.

“Oh, it’s alright.” She smiled, saying she was glad when the moderators—at her request—stepped in once and told the crowd to let her speak.

“Eileen’s tough,” said a man standing to her left and wearing an “Eileen for Executive” button.

“I really appreciate your talking about dialogue,” I said. I mentioned the meetings we’d been having with our two conservative friends, trying to foster respectful dialogue about political issues.

“Then you are doing God’s work,” said Eileen. “We really need more of that.”

Amen.