Member-only story
Jo Cox said we have “more in common.” It’s time we start acting like it.
In 2013, I stood where my hero Clement Attlee stood and where, before him, the nation’s hero — Winston Churchill — stood. I was on the floor of the House of Commons. The despatch boxes were right in front of me. Looking around, I took in the magnificence of this room and allowed the weight of history to rest on my shoulders, if only for a moment. This is where freedom was incubated, where the rule-of-law was nurtured, where the will of the people was first respected.
The mother of Parliaments. The cradle of democracy.
Those benches, with their iconic taut green leather, rose behind me like a gentle knoll. I was tempted to sit on them, to imagine myself an MP for just a moment. But I didn’t. I was firmly warned against it, and I was not about to insult the generosity of my host.
My host, who was and remains a Conservative Member of Parliament.
I’ve never told this story publicly before, though anyone who knows me has likely heard it. It is one of the most memorable days of my life, yet I have long been afraid of revealing that I — a gay American socialist — met with a right-wing Tory MP. I didn’t want to open him or me up to the inevitable scrutiny. I suppose I still don’t, as I’m not revealing his name. Perhaps if he gives me permission one day I…