I Swear...

...by the moon and the stars in the skyyyyyyy — oh sugar, this isn't my shower. 

Anyway.

Phoenix, Arizona

While visiting the state capital and quasi-attending an electoral college protest, Tami and I were offered what felt like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity from a museum docent: to see the swearing in of two new Arizona Supreme Court justices (raising the number of justices from five to seven, which is a controversy in and of itself). 

We met two girls dressed to the nines in the elevator. 

"Is it worth watching?" we asked them. 

"It's a really big deal," the girl in the glittery necklace said. 

The ceremony took place in a small room, with about 40 people sitting in folding chairs and another 15 milling around the edges. The media wore jeans and flip-flops, the government and their assistants wore ties (men), pencil skirts (women) and blazers (all genders). 

All I could think while watching the older men get up and give short speeches was, This is politics. Politics, at least in Arizona, seemed to be mostly men, mostly white, and a strangely vintage-style show of pomp, circumstance, and old boys club. 

At one point, when all the justices were gathered together with the governer, a photographer called out, "Justice Scott, how does it feel to be the only democrat up there?" 

A voice retorted, "Welcome to Arizona." 

The two men being sworn in vowed to be faithful guardians of our constitution. They promised to protect liberties. They pledged allegiance to humanity, saying the human community is the best community they've ever been a part of. 

And I wanted to believe them. I really did. But a man called out to the group of justices, "Justice Timmer, how does it feel to be the only woman up there?" And I had to wonder.