Passing by my room you may hear some screaming, some cries of triumph and anguish, some banging and sudden explosions. Now get your mind out of the gutter – I’m talking politics here.
These are the sounds of a Democrat and a Republican living under one roof, behind one propped door. This is what happens when politics clash in the dorm room.
To be honest, you probably won’t hear any screaming or yelling coming from my room if you happen to pass on by, but as November nears, the anxious tension could probably kill you.
At first, our contrasting political ideals weren’t a problem – we simply didn’t discuss politics in the room. We talked instead about our classes and how we spent our summers.
For the first couple of weeks, our biggest debate concerned how we should handle replacing the milk each week. When the Republican Convention aired, I conveniently made myself scarce. All seemed to be going along well.
And then she joined Georgetown Students for Bush.
Suddenly the campaign became a main topic of discussion. I cringed over every phone conversation she had with her parents when she spoke of campaign issues. I nodded my head in mock approval when her picture appeared on the Bush Web site.
But I continued to grin and bear it. I couldn’t say I was happy that she was choosing to help the man I’d like to see stripped of office, but I believe that she has a right to pursue what she finds important.
So, I simply learned to turn off my ears when I heard the words “for Bush.” I come from a very conservative family in a small town in New York. Let’s just say I’ve mastered the mute button by now. I could handle this.
Unfortunately, I haven’t gone blind. My vision is 20-20. So you can imagine the shock I felt when I opened my unadorned door one day and was stuck staring straight at a wall plastered with “Bush/Cheney ’04,”Viva Bush” and “W Stands for Women.” I felt nauseous.
The next day, I subtly tried to hint at my displeasure. Lines like “nice posters” were delivered, soaking in sarcasm. The occasional eyebrow raise may have been added for effect. But still the posters remained, scorching my vision.
Then, after one long, sleepless night staring at those posters, trying desperately to fend off the nightmares they were sure to bring on, I fought back.
I hung a huge John Kerry poster on the wall over my bed – guerilla tactics always work the best. Now it’s the first thing one sees after coming through our door. My roommate has yet to be reached for comment.
Now, I’m going to pause here for a second to make sure you’re not getting the wrong idea. I love my roommate.
She’s a great friend, and we get along very well. We cook, shop and go to church together. We watch the same TV shows. We both love to dance and think Andy Roddick is the best thing that ever happened to tennis. We’ve also coordinated all of our linens into shades of green and lavender. In many ways, we’re the quintessential roommates.
And perhaps this is what makes our conflicting political stances so hard to accept. Like her fondness for Jessica Simpson music, her Republican, conservative views are something I will never understand. But it’s difficult to accept that when we think so similarly in so many other areas.
But she won’t budge and neither will I. I guess we have that in common too. I suppose we’ll just have to continue with our silent, passive-aggressive, undercover maneuvers for now. I wonder who will conquer the door first? It is still unclaimed territory. But don’t worry, we’ve got until November.
Recently, my roommate’s dad made a great comment about our fragile living situation. He said that whatever happens, they’ll be a party in our room. I guess he’s right. So in the end, maybe we’re living in the best situation. Come November, our room can’t lose.
(Of course, it can’t win either.)
Kaitlyn Edsall is a senior in the College.