I was born in Saudi Arabia in the 1950s, while my father worked for Aramco. Lila is an Arabic name. It means Night.
I am 57 now, and so many memories flow through me, and the tears flow out. I have not always been poor, but I will be poor from now on.
I went to both public and private schools, and spent some time in a Catholic boarding school. I have lived in and visited many countries, and feel so enriched by my experiences. They taught me to fear nothing, to shun nothing and no one. I truly see us all as one.
I got a degree in nursing from McNeese State University in 1989, and moved to North Carolina from Louisiana in 1990. My father, who influenced me more than anyone, had died in 1987, so there was nothing to keep us there. My mother came along with us, and got a place close by.
I worked hard, my first job being at Duke University Medical Center. There was never a day I did not go through its doors that I did not think "this is it, the big game, the top of the mountain." And it is -- there are more stunning things and amazing procedures that happen there than just about anywhere, and I was able to be a part of that. It was intoxicating, and exhausting.
After three years there I took my show on the road, literally, to be a home health nurse, and a travel nurse. I loved my work, and would still do it if I could, but all the hours on my feet, the pulling and lifting, turning and positioning of people finally took its toll, and I had to stop work in 2010. I miss it.
My daughter, Sarah, gave birth to Chloe in 2001. Steve, my husband, and I helped raise her from the time she was 14 months old until she was nine. My daughter had gotten married in that space of time and had a son, Gavin. They had moved west and ended up in Mesa, Arizona. Her husband was abusive. Once he beat her so badly she should have gone to the hospital -- she didn't.
Everyone has a story; I believe mine is still being written. My name is Rebekah Barber and I am currently a sophomore attending North Carolina Central University in Durham, NC with hopes of becoming a civil rights attorney. I am the daughter of Rev. Dr William Barber II, the leader of the NC NAACP.
I find it important to give this context because growing up in my father’s house greatly molded me into the person I am today, even though I did not always realize this. Both of my parents instilled in me and my siblings the importance of being respectful to everyone. They taught us to work hard in school and always strive for the best education. And most of all, they taught us to always use our education and anything else we have to somehow be a blessing to others.
When I was only a year and a half years old, I was diagnosed with hydrocephalus. I had too much water in my brain, put simply. I had the ability to be operated on at one of the most renowned hospitals in the world, Johns Hopkins, I was saved, partially because I had healthcare, and partially because I had parents with great faith who would not let just anyone operate on their daughter.
As I look at the world today, I realize I am here for a reason. I am here to help others.
Because I have a preexisting condition, I feel I should demand rights for others with preexisting conditions. Because I am a minority, I feel I should fight for the rights of other minorities. And because I know what it is like to feel alone, when I see my brother or sister being isolated, especially for something they cannot help, I need to stand by them.
Each time there has been a demographic shift in America that threatens the existing balance of power, new election laws have appeared to try to insulate the electorate from the emerging population.
The most obvious demographic shift threatening the balance of power was emancipation. With it came the right to vote for African American men, which was decisive in Southern states where former slaves far outnumbered whites. This was considered unacceptable, and, starting in 1874, a wave of political violence and terrorism (until recently, celebrated as heroic terrorism) overthrew democratically elected governments and rigged elections in order to install voting restrictions and other practices which barred African Americans from voting in the South for 80 years.
Immigration has also prompted voting restrictions. Voter registration — something we take for granted today — was invented in 1820 by Pennsylvania aristocrats who began to fear that German immigrants might shift the balance of power. Under the new law, voter registration was required EACH YEAR in order to vote in a given election, and — get this — it was required only in Philadelphia and Pittsburgh where the German immigrants primarily settled. In the rest of Pennsylvania, voter registration was not required at all.
The state of New York passed a law in 1921 requiring an English literacy test in response to immigration waves that included Italians, Poles, Jews, and Slavs. New York also implemented a voter registration law that required people to register every year, and even moved election day to Saturday, the Jewish Sabbath. The Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 not only prevented Americans of Chinese ancestry from voting, it prevented them from claiming birthright citizenship undermining the 14th amendment.
The current demographic shift, so often mentioned in politics today, first revealed itself in the 2000 census data. Soon after summary reports were released showing that America will soon become a minority majority country, a election lawyer appointed by President Bush to the US Department of Justice Voting Rights division launched a 5-year investigation to search for "voter fraud." The operative, named Hans von Spakovsky, was able to find 26 cases of voter impersonation out of 173 million votes cast between 2002 and 2005. That's not the kind of percentage that could undermine the "integrity" of an election, but, that didn't stop the hysteria from spreading, particularly after the 2006 and 2008 elections where Asian, Latino, and African American voters played decisive roles. Television and radio productions created in the public a fear that voter fraud — and not demographic shift — explained electoral outcomes, which in turn helped to popularize the idea of voter ID laws. Politicians needed only to point to their constituents and say, "I'm responding to their very real fear," even if the threat of in-person voter fraud wasn't real at all.
Today, von Spakovsky works for the Heritage Foundation and you'll never guess his job. He goes from state to state telling lawmakers how to implement new voting restrictions.
The United States had never had a voter ID law in its entire history when the 2000 census data came out. Today, 30 states have some form of voter ID requirement. And, just as voting laws are being manipulated to make it harder for the People to influence elections, campaign finance laws are being manipulated to make it easier for money to influence elections.
We could consider historic precedent as we interpret recent events like the "Citizens United" decision and new voting restrictions being passed in swing states like Ohio and North Carolina. Or we could limit our consideration to something we heard on television. We're all free to make that choice, but it doesn't hurt to know our history.
Since I began my journey advocating for civil and informed dialogue, many people have made dismissive comments about the idea of dialogue and deliberation. I want to state again why dialogue is so important.
First of all, dialogue is always necessary for peacefully resolving any conflict.
Secondly, so much of what we do in politics is about communication, shaping narrative, helping people create meaning out of their experiences.
Think about the place of the First Amendment in our Constitution and our understanding of freedom. Think about how we use the money in politics. How do Super PACs and campaigns use the big money donated to them? Majority goes to "media buys." Money is used to influence how we think, talk and vote.
If We the People remain alienated, fearful, and hateful, we will become vulnerable to manipulation and misinformation. We make room for plutocracy and other non-democratic forms of government to take hold.
Talking to our fellow citizens in a respectful manner and listening to each other, thinking together, informing each other, is the best antidote to the scourge of propaganda.
Lastly, we need to create opportunities where we can just be together and reinforce "We the People" as a civic identity. We can't have a functioning democratic process if we hate each other and refuse to talk to each other.
We can reclaim a government of, by, for the people by changing how our behavior: how we get our information and how we vote.
For most of 2010 through 2012, I was trying to figure out answers to these questions: Why are the American people so divided, and hostile to one another? How will we meet the many challenges we face when there is conflict among the people and gridlock in Washington?
I worried at times that we were going to slide into deeper economic turmoil and perhaps even violence. I also feared that our division was aiding a gradual slide into plutocracy — governance by the elite, the super wealthy. In other words, we were being divided and conquered.
Years from now historians may note the irony that in January 2010 the Supreme Court ruled on the Citizens United case that opened the way for unlimited political spending by corporations during a period when the citizens were disunited, and locked in a culture war. Disunity may not cause plutocracy, but it enables it.
By the summer of 2012, I’d wake up with an unshakable urge to hit the road and just start talking to my fellow Americans. I could try to have the kinds of conversations that I thought we needed to have as a country. I wanted to understand better the nature of our division by learning more about our history, and by seeing how people are surviving in these trying times, hearing people’s personal stories, and sharing some of mine. I especially needed to know that I could talk to people of backgrounds and beliefs very different from my own.
In November 2012, Eric Byler and I set out on a journey across America with a video camera and my old cocker spaniel, Dudley.
We had no idea that we would end up spending over a year on the road, the majority of that time in North Carolina.
We started our filming on election day in Prince William County, Virginia, where our last documentary project, 9500 Liberty, was filmed.
In Prince William County, a swing county in a battleground state, we witnessed and documented five-hour lines at River Oaks precinct, the polling station with the most African American voters in the county. The scene there reminded me of a disaster area, with people forced to improvise after an unexpected catastrophe. Volunteers were distributing bottled water, food, and chairs hoping voters would not give up and go home.