Some time today, somewhere in the territory, one child hurled the worst insult imaginable at another.
Perhaps that child butted in line in front of him, or pushed him on the playground. Regardless, the ultimate insult needed to be found for the situation and it was used to devastating effect: “You, you, you elitist!”
Can somebody please tell me why “elitist” is an insult?
Sure, on the surface and especially these days, the idea of someone believing that our society should be led by an elite group is repugnant.
It is only because the word, “elite” has been “Orwellianized” by the American Republican Party (hey, if they can make up words, so can I) that it has taken on such a bad rep.
When a candidate, who owns so many houses that he can’t keep track of them, calls another candidate (who only just paid off his student loans two years ago) an elitist, then the word becomes all about intelligence.
At one time, that was an advantage only the well-born had, those who could afford an education and, so, I can see the connection. But after the Second World War, that became increasingly irrelevant. And yet the negative connotations remain (brought back?).
So we now have four Canadians – Stephen Harper, Stéphane Dion, Jack Layton and Elizabeth May – who are running to be first among us while pretending to be just one of us. Their sleeves are rolled up, their ties are loosened or non-existent and they speak of how parenthood is the most important thing they will ever accomplish. Yet these four are each highly intelligent.
(There is a fifth, by the way, but Gilles Duceppe has no aspirations to be prime minister.)
Perhaps this bastardization of the word, “elitist”, has not rightfully gone away because it is a constant reminder of another, unrelated, truism: people need to connect with their leaders.
That is why the barbecue circuit is so important. That is why cowboy hats are required attire in Calgary and photos with the family are mandatory.
It will sound like I am about to change subjects, but I’m not … please stay with me on this: I had an English teacher who once asked us to read a paragraph. It was complicated stuff and we all declared that the writer was very smart because he obviously could understand the topic whereas we could not.
“Actually,” we were told, “if he was so smart, he could have found a way to explain it to you.”
This is my hope from now to Election Day. I hope our candidates are smart enough, elite enough, that they can explain how their 11-point economic plan will affect my day-to-day life.
I want them to paint a picture for me of how my values will be protected and how differing values of others will be respected at the same time.
If you want my vote, you will not waste your time telling me why the other person is bad for me, I want to know why you are good for me and my family.
I want those who want my vote to assure me that my concerns will receive thoughtful consideration and, when it does not jive with the common good or is not possible, I want it explained back to me as if I were an adult who deserves more than a pat on the head.
This is turning into a rant, so allow me to get back on point: The successful politician will be the one who is so smart, so elite, that they can paint a picture of the near future without overwhelming me or dishing it out in sound bites.
Sigh.
That won’t happen, will it? And it is our fault. We like to see our elites falter. We like to hear the latest gaffe and we don’t allow a few good facts to get in the way of a juicy story.
And, let’s face it, some of us have biases that do not allow facts to sink in unless it is retold a hundred times in simple terms.
We deserve the best among us to lead us … if they promise to dazzle us, will we promise not to hold it against them?
