Yesterday was Harvens dag here in Färgelanda. It is one of those recurring days that somehow matters in our small community. For me, the day also became a reminder of what politics in everyday life really means.
🇸🇪 Svenska-> När vi inte är överens – men ändå kan prata med varandra
People gather in the square in the village. They meet, talk, buy locally produced goods from the different stalls and stop to chat with people they may not have seen for a while. There are horses and activities, and among all of this, the political parties stand side by side, talking about what they want for the future of Färgelanda.
This year, I was standing on the other side.
I was one of those walking around with papers in my hand, representing the party where I feel at home.
What did I actually contribute?
Not very much, you might say. I handed out our party programme, asked people whether they were planning to vote and whether they had already made up their minds.
But sometimes it became considerably more interesting than that.
When People Get Angry About Politics
Some people were angry.
They told me about things they thought had gone wrong and pointed out that my party had been one of the largest and had therefore had the opportunity to influence what happened.
And there I stood with my papers, definitely without all the answers.
So I did more or less the only thing I could do.
I asked questions.
If things have gone wrong in the past, could it be possible that people have recognised those mistakes and are now trying to do things differently?
During another conversation, I asked:
Do you think politicians make decisions because they want to be unkind to people, or do you think they make decisions because they genuinely believe what they are doing will lead to something better?
Of course, that does not mean the decisions will be right.
Nor does it mean that people do not have the right to be angry when political decisions have consequences they believe are wrong.
But perhaps there is still a difference between saying “I think that was the wrong decision” and assuming that someone who thinks differently from me must be a bad person.
The interesting thing was that several conversations that began rather sharply ended very differently.
We did not agree.
But we could acknowledge exactly that.
You think one thing. I think another.
Thank you for the conversation.
Have a nice day.
And then we moved on.
I actually enjoyed that very much.
When the Political Parties Stood Side by Side
The differences between the parties also became very visible when everyone was standing there in the same square.
One party I particularly noticed was the Sweden Democrats. They had a large tent, several people there and plenty of things to hand out: sweets in small containers, energy drinks, caps and other items carrying their logo.
I stood there looking at it all and wondering how much such an effort must cost.
But the energy drinks particularly stayed in my mind.
Perhaps because they became an image of something bigger.
They are colourful, appealing and easy to hand to someone. You get something immediately.
And somewhere around there, I started thinking about politics.
For me, politics is not primarily about what I can get in my hand today. It is about what kind of society will still be here tomorrow.
What kind of school will our children have?
Will there be people there to care for me when I am old?
What happens to the person who cannot manage on their own?
How do we treat someone who is new to Sweden?
How do we talk about people whose religion is different from our own?
And what happens to a society when we increasingly divide people into us and them?
That is where a large part of my objection to the Sweden Democrats’ politics lies.
I do not share their view of Sweden, nor do I share the way they describe migration, Islam and Swedish identity. I believe more strongly in a society where people are given the opportunity to feel that they belong than in one where the boundary between us and the others becomes increasingly important.
Someone else in the square may, of course, think exactly the opposite.
That, too, is democracy.
But What About Diesel, Grandma?
Even my five-year-old grandson had picked up something about politics.
He tried to explain to me that perhaps belonging to my party was not such a good idea.
Because then diesel would become more expensive.
I honestly do not know exactly what determines the price of diesel or how much different political decisions affect it. Many different things are involved.
But the diesel price was not really what stayed with me.
What stayed with me was that a five-year-old had already picked up a political message and reduced it to something very simple:
This party means more expensive diesel.
And perhaps that is not so strange.
We adults often simplify politics too.
How much does diesel cost?
How much tax do I have to pay?
How much money will I have left?
So I did my best with my little voter, who actually has quite a few years to go before he gets to cast his first ballot.
I could give him a packet of sweets.
And the diesel?
Well, I said, perhaps it will become more expensive. But I want you to be able to swim in a clean lake when you grow up. And I want your children to be able to swim there one day too.
That was about as far as we got in our political discussion.
And perhaps that was enough.
Between the Lines
Sometimes I wonder how early our political ideas begin to take shape.
My five-year-old grandson naturally knows very little about taxes, government budgets or how diesel prices are determined. Yet a message had already reached him: a particular party means more expensive diesel.
It made me wonder which parts of our political conversations stay with us – with children, but perhaps with adults too.
Are the simplest messages the ones we remember best?
Politics in Everyday Life – This Is Where We See It
For me, politics is so much more than the price of a litre of diesel.
It is about how many children a teacher is expected to teach and how many other tasks she is expected to manage at the same time.
Should she have to look around the classroom and decide which children she has time to help today?
Should a lack of time and resources mean that, in practice, she has to choose who receives the support they need to succeed at school?
Politics is also there in home care for older people.
Should a care worker have to choose between helping someone take a shower and having enough time to sit down for a moment and ask:
How are you, really?
Politics is there when someone wakes up feeling ill and has to think about more than their health.
Can I afford to stay home today? Can I pay my rent and loans if my income drops? Or do I take some painkillers and go to work anyway?
And politics is there for the single parent when there is not enough money for everything.
Should the money pay for medicine or for the new shoes the five-year-old needs?
Those are the kinds of questions that make politics in everyday life important to me.
Of course there have to be budgets, priorities and numbers that add up. Money is not unlimited, and we cannot do everything at once.
But it is only when those big decisions reach people’s everyday lives that we see what they actually mean.
Between the Lines
Perhaps this is also a way of understanding major political decisions.
Not only by asking what they cost or save in a budget, but by following them all the way into everyday life.
Who notices the decision?
What changes for that person?
And who barely notices anything at all?
What Is Cheapest for Me?
Of course I might save a krona or two if diesel becomes cheaper.
Perhaps that means I can afford to go out for lunch with my children or friends one extra time.
Nice? Absolutely.
But that is not what matters most to me.
For someone else, a few hundred kronor can be the difference between buying a child a new pair of shoes and trying to make the old ones last another month.
It can be the difference between having enough petrol to get to work and paying an unexpected vet bill when the cat becomes ill.
And children should not have to arrive at school hungry because the money ran out at home.
That is why I cannot vote based only on the question:
What will be cheapest for me?
I also need to ask:
What happens to the person who has less than I do?
Who carries the cost of the decisions we make?
That does not mean everyone can always have everything they want. We have to prioritise.
For example, school meals do not need to contain meat every day as far as I am concerned. Pancakes can be really good sometimes. So can rice pudding.
What matters to me is not that every meal contains the most expensive option.
What matters is that children get good food, are full and have enough energy for their school day.
That is what I mean by priorities.
Perhaps That Is Why I Was Standing There
Looking back on yesterday, I think I understand a little better what I was actually doing there in the square.
I was not there because I understand every budget.
I was not there because I have an answer to every question.
I definitely do not.
I was there because I care about what political decisions do to people when they leave the meeting rooms and enter everyday life. For me, that is where politics in everyday life becomes real.
In the classroom.
At the kitchen table.
In the home of an older person waiting for their care worker.
For the person who wakes up ill and goes to work anyway.
In the grocery bag.
In a child’s worn-out shoes.
And perhaps also in the clean lake where I hope my five-year-old grandson will one day swim with his own children.
The big things are found in budgets and decisions.
But it is in the small things that we see what politics was actually worth.
And perhaps that was my small contribution yesterday after all.
To stand there.
To listen.
To ask questions.
Not always to know.
And to be able to say to someone who thinks completely differently from me:
Thank you for the conversation. Have a nice day.
What Do You Think?
What does politics mean to you?
Is it the big questions about the economy, taxes and the development of society – or do you notice politics most clearly in the small things of everyday life?
And is there an issue where you would be willing to have a little less yourself if it meant that someone who has less could have a little more?
Feel free to share your thoughts. We do not have to agree in order to talk to each other.
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“I cannot vote based only on the question: What will be cheapest for me? I also need to ask: What happens to the person who has less than I do?”
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