Kansas politics increasingly toxic, choking chances for democracy

No longer do legislators in leadership positions listen; no longer do they consider other points of view or even allow them.

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January 27, 2022 - 9:32 AM

Moderates from both sides struggle to survive in a system designed to elevate the most “pure” candidate of each election cycle.

I retired this year after 23 years in the Kansas Statehouse advocating for schools. I thought I would work longer, but the Statehouse is a toxic environment. It is an unhealthy place to work for anyone who cares about the lives of working Kansans.

Legislative leadership is disdainful of working people, of anyone who won’t toe their line of intolerance and hate. The redistricting battle is a perfect example. People in “blue” areas like Douglas and Wyandotte counties must be marginalized before their blue contagion spreads.

Right now, Democrats can just manage to hold one seat in Congress. The GOP fears that someday another Democrat could be elected. The GOP believes that they, as a legislative majority, should get to pick their voters. Voters do not, in this world view, have a right to pick their representatives. And so the two blue areas must be split up so that there is no chance they would have someone with their values in Congress.

This is not about what’s good for Kansas. It is solely about what’s good for the GOP and holding onto power at all costs — even if it means marginalizing minority voters in Wyandotte County. Even if it means splitting communities like Douglas County and the reservations.

But it goes far beyond the redistricting battle.

It is evident in every committee room, in every bill introduction, in every bill allowed a debate. The GOP will not allow a voice for working people; they will not allow poor people to get health care; they will not allow women to control their own bodies or teachers to teach honestly about history or LGBTQ people to live their own lives freely.

No longer do legislators in leadership positions listen; no longer do they consider other points of view or even allow them; no longer can we disagree on a policy but still be social or courteous or respectful.

In a democracy-crushing move, committee chairs won’t allow hearings on bills they don’t personally support. They give only minimum notice of bill hearings, cutting the public and even lobbyists out of the opportunity to testify — except, of course, those lobbyists who support the bill appear to have been given advance notice.

I believe our democracy is dead. Our politics are toxic.

Just recently a Kansas legislator responded to a rabbi who posted on Twitter by calling the rabbi a “dumbass” and suggesting he “Shut the f up.” This is the Kansas Legislature in 140 characters.

I don’t believe in censorship, and I know that I have posted sharp criticisms on social media. But this was a legislator — a representative of Kansas citizens who speaks for them. Would his constituents speak this way? Would they care that he does? Sadly, watching all political discourse these days, I am beginning to believe that no one would care at all. This is our representative democracy in a death spiral.

When I am faced with a supermajority of legislators who don’t care about humanity, it’s time to go. When faced with a majority of voters who apparently are fine with this, it’s time to go. For these reasons — and the fact that I long to experience less stress and more joy — I have given up and retired. May God bless Kansas, although I fear such a blessing might be too little, too late.

I should also say that I appreciate the advice the GOP legislators gave me on hearing of my exit. Thanks to them, I was careful not to let the door hit me in the rear on my way out.

About the author: After a 14-year career as a bilingual elementary school teacher, Mark Desetti went to work as an advocate for pubic schools, students and teachers for several affiliates of the National Education Association. He recently retired after spending 23 legislative sessions working as governmental relations director for the Kansas National Education Association. His four children all graduated from Kansas public schools. He and his wife of 43 years live in Lawrence.

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