I was an outraged, but uninformed Republican until 2004, preaching the broad platitudes of the conservative movement—freedom, choice, competition—without much regard for current events, data or reality. Now, I have completely crossed over into the progressive way of thinking. And because I was so devout on the conservative side and because I am now so devout on the progressive side, I often wonder: How did I get here?
"Facts," you fellow liberals might say.
Or: "Brainwashed," you conservatives might say.
And to some extent, you'd both be right.
We are all aware of humans' tendency to select and emphasize, to choose a paradigm and then exaggerate the events and evidence that support it and ignore the ones that might contradict it.
As a human, I believe I am not exempt from this tendency, so you can understand the question: How did I get here?
How did I once believe gay marriage would end America but now think that concept is so stupid it really belongs in the 19th century?
How did I ever believe that the free-market was the best "decider" for consumers and talent (clearly it's not)?
How did I ever believe that the government's entire agenda (albeit a secret one) is to control every single American citizen. And to get that control, it gives us stuff like education, roads, libraries and, gasp: health?
I've got a few theories:
1.) My colleague at the newspaper, Raelynn, a devout, rabid and unrelenting Christian conservative embodied every negative stereotype that exists about that kind of person: You're a hero if you kill Iraqis (even if they are civilians), but you're going to hell if you get an abortion at four weeks. You're a patriot if you clear cut Mount Hood, but you're a ragged hippie, communist if you oppose the clear cut.
2.) Work. I won more awards than any journalist in Oregon, but I still couldn't earn more than $30,000 a year. In fact, just to get that salary in 2006, I had to get two other job offers from other organizations who were willing to pay me more (a little bit more). I realized then that I wanted a union behind me, so that I didn't have go through the process of getting a job offer just to get a bump in pay. The board would talk about how the price of ink was going up, the price of paper was going up, the price of fuel was going up, so, you'll understand if ... My purely mental retort was: Well, guess what: I understand you have a bottom line. But guess what: I have one too. And right now, I'm not making it, even though I'm giving you the best hours of the best years of my life. Of course if I did say that, I'd have been fired, reprimanded or worse. That's why we need unions, I realized.
3.) I just never figured out how the Republicans were defending traditional marriage from gay marriage. Never got it.
4.) Michael Moore.
I watched his Fahrenheit 9/11 and, at the time, I was a moderate. Stuck in the middle. Fed up with Bush. But scared to abandon my Pro-Life loyalty. The film didn't make me think of Moore as a crazy buffoon. It made me wonder about Bush. (For those of you who might be wondering: I made up my mind to vote for Kerry during the first debate). Later, I watched Sicko with my wife. That film put me on the path to progressivism. In the 2008 primary campaign, all I really wanted to hear was how each candidate responded to the question of health care. When McCain said we have the best health care system in the world, he lost me. When Huckabee said the answer is tax cuts, he lost me.
So there it is: Michael Moore is, at least, partly responsible for my proud progressivism.
I'm looking forward to seeing his newest film.

Silas, Great story. You are a good writer. Worth a damn site more than those bonused eggnogs Goldman Sachs. We need more well-spoken, clear-thinking folks like yourself to get us out of the hole the wall-street geniuses have dug for us. Keep up the good work! Billy

As a fellow right-to-left convert (the whole 180), I'm with you. Michael Moore had me at Fahrenheit 911. I anticipated the release of Sicko for months and bought the day it hit stores. And finally, in Capitalism: A Love Story, he gave voice to my long-held feelings as an ex-Christian.

I have always felt that Capitalism was the anti-Jesus but I felt like a radical for believing it. The sermons and parables I read in the Bible were in direct conflict with the teachings of the evangelical church. "You're poor and hurting? Send money to this comb-overed televangelist to buy his wife some more mascara." "You're terminally ill? Have more faith, you wimp. And tithe."

When Moore asked a Catholic priest, "Is Capitalism a sin?" I expected the protestant God I grew up with to strike him with a bolt of economic lightning. My jaw dropped when he answered, "Yes." In my church of yester year, where the pastor himself lobbied for us to Vote Bush, that would have been heresy.

And when the Bishop visited the disenfranchised workers at their factory sit-in, and said that their struggle was our struggle, my faith was briefly re-ignited in that very moment. If that's what Catholicism is, I may soon be a convert.