lessons from the field

As I walked the less than 10 minute walk from my apartment to the Roundhouse, I felt my posture and my cycles of breath. I listened to the clicking of my heels, and I asked myself, "what exactly I am beginning today?" I was wearing one of the infinite iterations of the black and white and grey wardrobe I developed in the span of my political work. Matching earrings- check. Designer knockoff purse- check. Blackberry- check. Mascara- check. An even haircut- check.

I was unusually and cautiously put together. You have to look in control, confident, and as perfect as you can in the context of politics, I've found. Trust is earned through appearance and performance, always.

I ran into a friendly representative from Albuquerque on the way to the Capitol. I said,

"Hello! How are you?"

"Oh, very fine! I'm walking to the Roundhouse!"

"So am I!"

"I'm a Representative from Albuquerque. I'm staying at the Inn right here. Do you work at the Roundhouse?"

"No, but I do a little bit of consulting here and there."

And I handed him my card. He proceeded to talk about the battle over driver's licenses for undocumented immigrants. Each session has its battles.

I realized today that the Capitol is a circular maze of theaters in which laws are made. The legislators perform every day. They really like audiences. They have all of the committee rooms, their offices, and of course, the floors of both the House and the Senate at their disposal. The seats in the Senate and House Galleries as well as the committee rooms are not unlike what you would find in an auditorium. The legislators' performances usually aren't that interesting, but they are the stars. Others perform supporting roles, but the elected officials are where the power lies, regardless of influences and lobbies.

Today was the first time I wandered all 4 floors of the circular Capitol building since lobbying to save CSF in 2009. I quickly became nauseated from literally walking in circles, attempting to visit every legislator's office. I know I missed a few. The Governor's office was not open on Sunday. I picked up a room directory from the information desk, after I concluded most of my visitations. I didn't want to appear out of place, but I fear it was unavoidable at times.

Most of my visitations were pretty customary. I left cards and signed books at the desks of secretaries for most of the legislators. Two staff people immediately asked me when they looked at my card, "Are they psychic consultations? Can we get some? How much?"

I ran into a lobbyist acquaintance of mine in the Senate Gallery, and handed her a card in the midst of our conversation. When I explained that they were tarot readings, she handed it back, and she said, "You're offering this to clergy?" (She's a reverend, as well as a lobbyist.) I told her that tarot was in no way anti-Christian, and she replied that she preferred to believe that we have complete control of our destinies. I wasn't going to debate with her that tarot suggests the same thing, more or less. She is working to retain drivers licenses for undocumented immigrants, and she looked exhausted and tense. The interaction did make me wonder to what extent people's negative associations with tarot will affect this project.

I sent the following emails to the Senate Sargent at Arms and the House Chief Clerk:


We'll see what response I receive. I'm setting up a table this week, even if I have to do it outside. The readings are what I'm really looking forward to. It's certainly going to be more challenging to create a generous, humane space in that building than I had initially anticipated.