"I've never run telling people who to vote for. They should do whatever their conscience dictates." At first, Pat LaMarche thought it might be best if the Green Party sat out the 2004 election. Then she realized that the party's issues were too important not to be a part of the national debate. She worried that the Democrats didn't think they were important enough. So her own conscience dictated that she spend a few months on the road bringing Green Party concerns to the public as the party's 2004 candidate for vice president of the United States.
But when it comes down to the wire, she feels an "Anybody But Bush" attitude is understandable. She won't tell you not to vote for Kerry if you're afraid of helping Bush get re-elected.
LaMarche has no illusions that she'll be occupying the White House come November, though it'd be nice if she could. In order to accept the nomination--stumping alongside Green Party icon David Cobb, who wrested the presidential nomination from a dithering Ralph Nader--LaMarche had to take a leave from her radio talk show. She's worried about making her house payments. Free rent in D.C. wouldn't hurt.
An upset, or even a Naderesque role as "spoiler," is highly unlikely. LaMarche has some celebrity status in Maine, which has the highest percentage of Green Party voters in the country--but that adds up to a whopping 3 percent of the state's registered voters. A Green for eight years, and an activist for Green-friendly causes for much longer than that ("some of my listeners came to my house and told me that I was a Green, and I found out they were right"), LaMarche has never held elected office. The closest she's come was a race for governor of Maine in which she got nearly 7 percent of the vote.
LaMarche dropped by the Advocate offices in downtown New Haven last Friday as part of the sort of day one associates with political candidates in an election year. She had a slew of interviews scheduled, and a fundraiser in Orange that night. On the top of her sightseeing list: a quick trip to see the Amistad schooner. She's down-to-earth, bubbly, unreserved, alternately sharp-tongued and gentle. She's quite a change from conventional candidates whose every remark is vetted, scripted and rehearsed. LaMarche acts like a happy traveler, eager to make new friends.
LaMarche says people in her situation--"financially unstable, a single mom since 1989"--can't usually afford to run for office, which is one reason why "we don't have more women candidates." She jumped into the race this year due to general outrage.
"I had thought that this was a campaign we {Greens} should sit out," she says. "But then I heard John Kerry say that having some pro-life Supreme Court judges might not be that bad! "
The morning after Kerry's speech at the Democratic National Convention, LaMarche was angry at "all the things he left out, like gay marriage. If Bush is going to make such a deal out of it, then you really ought to say something. There were so many issues that were ignored." She was especially upset that, while polls showed a vast majority of the convention delegates were anti-war, Kerry gave an almost entirely pro-war speech.
That's why LaMarche is in the race--to provide a platform for other voices. "What the heck, it's only 126 days of maybe losing my house."
Though she hasn't lost that house yet, LaMarche will spend 14 nights of the campaign in homeless shelters throughout the country, to draw attention to some of her pet issues: poverty and homelessness. The fortnight of faux indigence has been planned so that she's in Cleveland on the night of the vice presidential debates there. No, the Greens haven't been invited to take part, but she'll be there to grab some media attention and highlight the Green platform