Back in September I wrote that some of the Palin-hatred we’ve seen represents a class war. What I’m going to write about today is somewhat related to that, but not completely.
Yes, class is part of Palin-hatred for sure, but (especially in America) class can be mitigated by education. Look no further than Presidents Clinton and Obama for evidence of this; neither were aristocrats to begin with, but they became the equivalent of American aristocrats (or at least earned respect for their intellectual capacities) through their Ivy League degrees and their adoption of that all-important manner of aristocrats here: the speech patterns of the highly educated.
It’s true that Sarah Palin has been to college. But these days so much of the population goes to college that the mere fact of a college degree is nothing special in most peoples’ minds. And Palin most definitely went to the wrong school—or schools plural, which is even worse. What’s more, in her speech patterns, her cadence and rhythm and accent, she has stubbornly refused to adopt the bland and homogenized manner of the educated elite.
This is part of the reason for the idea that Palin is dumb—even though it’s clear she’s not. But she “reads” dumb to many people, because she’s working and/or middle class and doesn’t cover that fact up with erudite academic-speak. If she doesn’t, it must mean she can’t, in many people’s eyes; it can’t possibly be a proud and strategic choice, right? It’s as though Eliza Doolittle tried to go to Ascot without the benefit of Henry Higgins’s tutoring: how dare she! And why would she?
It’s exactly the sort of thing I believe that commenter “nyomythus” was referring to when he wrote yesterday (except for the fact that he doesn’t blame her; most people who say this sort of thing fully blame her):
…[I]t’s not [Sarah Palin’s] fault it’s the people that put faith in her and give her a false confidence. Her ilk is not fit to govern—stew potatos and pluck chickens ya, have a position of governance in the USA na.
Note the injection of the “ya…na” speech patterns, reminiscent of Palin and those odd folks in the movie “Fargo,” the kind of proletarian of the north country accent for which Palin has been mocked.
Liberals like to think of themselves as friends of the downtrodden masses, the uneducated and the working classes. But they prefer this to be a form of noblesse oblige—they are the enlightened ones reaching down in their great magnanimity to help the unfortunates, who will then be ever-grateful for the largesse. It’s okay, too, if a minority person pulls him or herself up from squalor and becomes a leader—preferably with the help of a nice Ivy League education, but even without it if the minority in question is seen as having being oppressed enough.
Sarah Palin shatters those rules. Her true bottom-up (as opposed to fake top-down) populist appeal, her whiteness, and her rejection of the veneer of academic elitism that she could take on if only she changed her speech patterns, have driven them wild from the start. It’s only been compounded by the fact that she is a member of a certain group usually seen as oppressed: women. But this small point in her favor has been easily overcome by all the other points against her: she not their kind of woman, and maybe not even a woman at all.
I experienced this phenomenon first hand, the very day after the Palin nomination was announced by John McCain, when I happened to be attending a party where most of the guests were highly educated ultra liberal women. They were discussing Palin, and even then—not twenty-four hours after she had first burst on the scene—-their attitude towards her was set and unanimous, and they hadn’t gotten it from the media or checked it out with each other yet; it was developing as I watched (silently).
To sum up their reaction: they were laughing at her. They didn’t bother to disguise their contempt; they thought her a stupid joke. It was something akin to the attitude they might have had back in high school if the head of the pom-pom girls (who also happened to be the class slut) wanted to apply to Radcliffe and be designated valedictorian as well.
Even back when I was a liberal I didn’t share this attitude towards the value of an Ivy League degree (or even a degree at all). I’ve never confused erudition with smartness, or the trappings of an Ivy League education with intelligence, or either of them with something as unrelated as an accent or speech patterns or even fluidity of speech (this was one of the reasons that I didn’t turn on Bush as stupid even when I was a Democratic and disagreed with his policies).
Of course, education and intelligence are hardly mutually exclusive; they sometimes coincide. But I know full well that they don’t invariably do so, and I knew that from early in life. I grew up as the child of highly educated professionals but we lived in a blue-collar community, and my parents had a varied group of friends. Some had graduate degrees (my father was both a lawyer and CPA) and yet some had never finished high school. Some were rich, and some lived in small apartments above stores; some spoke with the accents of the educated and some did not.
Because both my parents had grown up in the same community in which I was also being raised, and had known most of these people their whole lives, they knew the back-story, as it were. My mother, who loved to talk, would tell me the history of this person and that person: he had wanted to be a gym teacher, but had to drop out of high school during the Depression to support his parents and ended up pushing racks though the streets of the garment district and then driving a truck. She had been pulled out of school after eighth grade by a tyrant father who insisted she earn her keep, and then married her off to a man she didn’t love. She spoke of them with sympathy rather than condescension.
My parents loved to entertain, and they would invite these people over often. Everyone would sit around a large table with cake and coffee, talking and talking and talking about everything under the sun, including politics. I was an observer and a sometime participant, and I never remember thinking that the ones with the big degrees had anything more or less worthwhile to say than those without them.
Later on I got my own big degrees, several of them, from a few highfalutin schools to boot. But I encountered a surprisingly wide variety there in terms of brainpower. There was book learning and then there was smart, and the one didn’t always have that much to do with the other, although sometimes it did. I also found myself thinking that the highly educated could be dangerous in their hubris if their schooling wasn’t accompanied by a deep thoughtfulness, because it could instead be accompanied by arrogance and the idea that because they had that elite education they knew far more than they really did.
Perhaps that’s why I was predisposed to listen to politicians in a different way, to not be swayed by a surface glibness or academic-speak. Palin is not my favorite candidate, and I never was at all sure that she could run and win in 2012, but I have always seen her as intelligent and courageous, and I’m awaiting her next move, which I imagine will be interesting. She’s been consistent in showing a remarkable ability to surprise people—whether they be her supporters or her enemies. And she’s doing so now.