Since last week’s midterm elections, it’s been pretty easy to tell who’s who in America, as far as political leanings go. That guy walking around with a smug look on his face, nose in the air, talking about how voters told the Bush administration exactly what it could do with its policies? That’s a Democrat. Then there’s the woman sitting with her head in her hands, bemoaning the now imminent triumph of the terrorists over the land of the free. She’s obviously a Republican.

But even without such obvious post-election displays of triumphant or defeated feelings, it usually isn’t hard to identify what political party a given person is affiliated with. Race, religious practice, and sexual orientation are just a few of the qualities that can often be depended upon to give away one’s voting patterns. For example, according to a study conducted by the Joint Center for Political and Economic Studies, in the 2000 presidential election, 90 percent of black voters supported Vice President Al Gore, the Democratic candidate. Four years later, black voters hadn’t strayed significantly from the Democrats, awarding 88 percent of their votes to John Kerry.

On the Republican side of things, those on the right wing can rest easy knowing that they’ll receive a large percentage of votes from orthodox Christians who regularly attend church. According to a 2004 study by the Pew Forum on Religious and Public Life, roughly 56 percent of evangelical Protestants and 70 percent of traditionalist evangelicals identify as Republicans. These groups make up 26.3 percent and 12.6 percent of the population, respectively.

As dearly as we Americans claim to hold our individuality, it’s disturbing to see how willing we are to put ourselves and others into constricting boxes of political identity. After all, when someone strays from any of the aforementioned norms, she is frequently met not only with surprise, but with contempt. When we hear about a gay Republican, it seems that our first instinct is to either call that person a hypocrite, or to pity the poor soul for her apparent “self-hatred.” Similarly, if you’re a black Republican, good luck convincing anyone that you’re not a traitor to your race. Lastly, I’m sure we can all think of a time or two when a Democrat has been called amoral or godless for her liberal beliefs and practices.

Nevertheless, as contradictory as it may seem when someone tries to step outside of her assigned political box, she may be a bit wiser than we realize. Perhaps that same-sex couple supporting a Republican candidate is actually a pair of millionaires interested in getting themselves some tax cuts. Maybe those traditional Christians that you see at the Democratic National Convention aren’t godless, but have a family member suffering from Parkinson’s disease and can see the potential benefits of stem-cell research. Ultimately, when these people flout the expectations of our culture, they acknowledge that there is in fact more than one aspect of their identity or lifestyle that’s important to them.

The problem that arises when people hop into a political box and sit there for decades at a time is that they unwittingly disenfranchise themselves. Armed with the knowledge that their religious, racial, or sexual orientation group is a huge bloc that will generally vote together, voters pigeonhole themselves, foolishly thinking that doing so is an effective way to influence an election. But if it’s a forgone conclusion which way a given demographic will vote, neither party has any incentive to work in any meaningful way to keep the voters they already have. After all, if the Republicans know that most conservative Christians will vote for them anyway, why bother trying to alleviate the poverty that afflicts so many in the Bible Belt? If the Democrats are guaranteed about 90 percent of the black vote every election, what is their incentive to make racial issues like the education gap and disparities in crime sentences central issues within their campaigns?

And voters shouldn’t be fooled into thinking the opposite party will come and help them out either. After all, if a group consistently votes for the other side, it’s pretty much a lost cause, and the party’s time would be better spent trying to ensure the high turnout of its base.

Ultimately, it would be in everyone’s best interest to stop ignoring the fact that we each have multifaceted identities, and to vote less predictably. While it may seem counterintuitive to consider voting for a candidate who belongs to a party that you’ve been conditioned to believe is out to get you, looking at politicians as individuals can go a long way to overcoming your trepidation. There are Republicans out there who do believe in things like marriage equality and governmental programs to aid the poor, and there are certainly God-fearing, pro-life Democrats who want to lower taxes. Giving our votes to those who represent the best of both worlds, rather than simply voting along party lines will not only keep both parties on their toes, but force them back to the center from the extremist positions that have become perceived as the norm. Until we learn to stop behaving like Democratic or Republican lemmings, we’ll continue to inch ever closer to falling en masse off the ledge into political powerlessness.


Ashton R. Lattimore ’08, a Crimson editorial editor, is an English concentrator in Dunster House. Her column appears on alternate Wednesdays.