Badges and Buttons in the Drawers and on the Shelves of an Addled Mind

Buttons and badges are a way of preserving memories. They may not be the most important memories, for who knows why we kept them. But memories they contain, and through these buttons, and otherwise useless objects, we revisit them. It helps us remember and reconstruct our past, although in a discontinuous and incomplete manner.

For me, this week’s prompt led me, initially, to think of political buttons and badges, and I’ve got a few. Why did I save them? I wish I’d saved more of them.

Of course, badges are more than politics. Maybe I should talk about my Boy Scout Badges – I saved a bunch of them, too. All 21 of my merit badges are sewn on a sash – sewn by me because I was unsatisfied with how my mother attached them, having far less free time than I ever gave her credit for. Each badge was a work of miniature art, and each with a story to remember: the bridge six of us lashed together over a small ravine to earn the pioneering badge; the camp meals for the cooking badge; building and flying the gas-engine model planes for the aviation badge; and the strict oversight by the music teacher, who required me to learn an arcane clarinet piece for the music merit badge. I still remember his good-natured chuckling when I played the original “composition” I had to prepare as well.

My badges from politics are eclectic, and fairly recent. But they also tell some stories. One “relic” (it’s now over 50 years old) isn’t a badge or a button; it’s a crinkled bumper sticker with the message, “Target 70: Oust Reagan.” The bumper sticker was probably brought home by my father, who, as a state college professor and president of the local AFL-CIO chapter, went to battle against then-Governor Reagan’s policies and those he appointed to implement them. Later, I collected badges for candidates I supported, and sometimes worked for, in elections long after Reagan left California. Oddly enough, I have no Jerry Brown buttons. I have one that says, “Si Se Puede Brown 1994” but that’s supporting Jerry’s sister Kathleen, backed by the United Farm Workers. It was their slogan,  “Si Se Puede” — (yes we can); but Kathleen, as it turned out, couldn’t, or didn’t, exemplify “Yes I can,”  losing what many thought would be the triumphant arrival of the third member of the Brown family to the Governor’s mansion.

When I look at this button, I see, not her loss, but a long-run victory against bigotry.  I see Kathleen’s “Si se puede” badge as an ironic foreshadowing of the vicious anti-immigration stance championed by the man who beat her, Pete Wilson. Wilson’s triumph at the polls was momentarily good for him, but in the next quarter century, a generation of Hispanic voters with painful memories has been the difference in relegating Wilson’s party to almost an afterthought in California politics. And with the ascent of the Democratic Party, it led to some interesting and personally rewarding Gubernatorial appointments.

I walked precincts for Bill Clinton in two elections (1992 and 1996) and have some nice buttons from those efforts. And I have a great t-shirt of Bill playing the saxophone. I thought it would be a collector’s item – it isn’t, but it does exemplify the youth and energy that he brought to the campaign, and reminds me of the good time I had in that effort.

 

 

 

I’ve also kept a genuine badge and a bumper sticker related to Gray Davis, who appointed me to head an environmental department (Toxic Substances Control), and for which I got an actual “badge” because we had peace officers who investigated environmental crimes and arrested polluters as part of their work. My badge, although visually impressive, was in reality little more than a souvenir. It did get me out of the public line on the occasions I appeared in court, however.

Finally, I have done poll watching work in the last four presidential elections, first in Florida (2004) and then in Ohio (Columbus 2008), and Cleveland in 2012 and 2016. I can’t say I brought good luck to my favored candidates more than half the time, but, in line with this week’s prompt, I’ve got some nice memorabilia: a baseball  hat from Florida identifying me as a “voter protection worker” which never fit and I can’t now find, and some interesting credentials to be worn around the neck from Ohio. The credentials come from the Cuyahoga County Board of Elections, which has reached out to lawyers across the country to give non-partisan advice to those working in the polls on election day, when tricky situations, primarily related to voter eligibility, occur. Although the work is “non-partisan”, it’s no secret who wants to ensure that everyone who’s eligible isn’t turned away, and, conversely, those who would rather make it as difficult as possible to vote. I think I can do more good in this role than outside the voting area. I remember in particular, in 2008, assisting a disabled man who wanted only to vote for Obama. Had I not been there to legally assist him, I’m not sure if the harried regular staff would have been able to help.

If I made scrapbooks, which I don’t, the buttons, bumper stickers, badges and pins would be there. So this story, and a few pictures will, for now, have to suffice.

Button, Button, Who’s Got the Button?

And the winner is: My aunt Ruth!

 I’ve written about my Aunt Ruth and her buttons here and in my book. She inspired me to start my own collection when I was a teenager. I kept them in a small box inside my grandparents’ secretary desk.

On more than one occasion, I talked to my cousin about his mother’s vast button collection. He asked me if I wanted some–he had three jars full of her pins and buttons!  I was happy to take one jar home. I had no idea what I would find, but was eager to see what treasures were inside the big jar of buttons.

 I dumped them all out on my dining room table and took about half an hour to sort through them all. What an impressive collection!

The accompanying pictures are only the tip of the iceberg, but I wanted to share some of my favorites, sorted into some loosely defined (by me) categories.

We have the political and the presidential (and I know what button she would be wearing today if she was still with us) going way back to Roosevelt. Where else will you see Pat Paulsen, Dizzy Gillespie, Allen Ginsberg, and Snoopy alongside some more familiar names? Just a small example of this category.

Some of the buttons fall under the category of miscellaneous. I had a few of these myself. Not sure why the poor penguin is singled out here.

And then there is the “not sure how to categorize” category. This is just a small sample of buttons from all corners, including music, protest marches and boycotts, and anti-war demonstrations. I admit that there are some extremely unlikely bedfellows in this group. Again, just a small representation of this category. My aunt went to a lot of protest marches and participated in many boycotts, and she always supported unions.

I admit, I had to look him up. Don’t know the occasion when my aunt might have worn these, but it’s possible she wore them to the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art when Conner had a show there.

And this last one: as a symbol of the times when so much seems to be wrong with the world.

When doves cry

 

 

 

This one is a tribute to a writer friend and mentor, the amazing Anne Fox. Anne was a writer and an eagle-eyed editor. I was fortunate to meet her at a gathering of the local California Writers Club, Berkeley branch, well over a decade ago. A fellow writer and I decided to start a spin-off group and we both knew we had to have Anne as a member. At that time, she was in her eighties. She offered her passionate and insightful feedback on our work, and after a while we all heard her voice in our heads when we had gone overboard with the adjectives, adverbs, commas, or–god forbid–cliches. Our meetings were full of good-natured kidding around and serious discussions over the years.  During one of our monthly sessions when we were taking a scalpel to someone’s writing, Anne said what is now memorialized on this button we had made:

We all showed up wearing them at our next meeting and she loved it!

This year, due to the fact that Anne lived in a senior facility that went on serious lockdown and stayed that way, our group had to give up our meetings. Anne just passed away at age 95. She continued to edit and write until her final days. I would wear this button to a celebration of her life when and if her family arranges one.(I almost wrote, “I would proudly wear this button,” and then I thought better of it.) RIP Anne. You were one of a kind.

Joey’s button

I knew Grandma Geitel as a seamstress, a maker of chicken soup with knaidelach, someone who drank hot tea in a glass with sugar cubes, and someone who liked to gossip about her eight sisters and their lives and times.
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Badges? I ain’t got no stinkin’ badges.*

Alas, I have no buttons, pins or badges. Well, I do have a David Bowie pin, a couple peace pins, and a Save The Whales pin. But ever since I got flipped off and practically run off the road because of the “Make Love Not War” and assorted bumper stickers along a similar vein on my ’68 VW bug, I’ve pretty much kept my politics to myself. It’s personal, and there are people I care about who don’t see things the way I do.

My husband and I just returned from a little trip up the coast and we were heartened to see several signs as depicted in my featured image posted around town. Always a fan of wordplay, however imperfect — Bye Don = Biden, well, kind of — this seems like the perfect place to share it.

*And in case my title makes no sense to you, it’s a play on what’s actually an oft-misquoted line from the 1948 movie “The Treasure of the Sierra Madre” with Humphrey Bogart: “Badges? We don’t need no stinkin’ badges.”