I Went To A Utah Indivisible Meeting — Here’s What I Found
In a conference last week at the state capitol, Utah Republican Party Chairman James Evans urged congressional representatives to cease holding town halls, citing “acts of intimidation and violence.” Evans accused the group Utah Indivisible of hijacking the now infamous Utah town hall, where nearly a thousand people treated Representative Jason Chaffetz to an hour and a half of boos, shouts, and chants of “Do your job!” I think we’ve all seen the highlight reel. But here it is again. Just for fun.
Representative Dave Brat from Virginia has voiced similar concerns about the Indivisible movement, referring to them as a bunch of women that are “up in my grill no matter where I go.” Orange County Congressman Dana Rohrabacher claims an Indivisible group delivering Valentines caused his 71-year-old staffer to knock herself out with a door and then made her trample a visiting two-year-old, who was caught red-handed trying to slide a heart under the Congressman’s locked office door. This act of “political thuggery” involved cards with inflammatory messages like “Roses are red, Violets are blue. We request a town hall or a new rep might do.”
My interest was piqued. Leftist mobs? Soros paid protesters? There just had to be a juicy story here. So I decided to infiltrate Indivisible and investigate. These “professional agitators” congregate in public Facebook groups and one was hosting a local meeting near me, in a Unitarian church of all places. Aha! I thought. Using religion as a cover for intrusive activism. Very clever people.
When I arrived, I drove behind the building looking for the buses that were used to transport out-of-state members. I didn’t find anything but an army of crusty Subarus overflowing into the the parking lot at the Kentucky Fried Chicken next door. Probably a front for something nefarious. (Note to self: Google #KFCGate when you get home.)
It was a packed house when I arrived, but I was able to slip into a chair in the back unnoticed. I brought a bottle of San Pelligrino and sipped on it nervously. I’m blending in, right?
Up front, a trio of aging hippies strummed out “This Land is Your Land,” while the members continued to pour in. Eventually, there were too many people and they had to open up the downstairs where attendees could view the meeting on a screen. The organizers assured everyone it was no problem. “We’re live streaming the whole thing anyway,” she confessed. Geesh. You all must be new to this whole secretive group thing.
Utah Indivisible’s co-founder, Kellie Henderson, took the podium to welcome the overflowing crowd, introducing the bi-partisan organization as one that strives for inclusion and focused political action. She claims to be a 911 dispatcher who started the now 5,000 member group with her sister, Courtney. Henderson bragged that Utah Indivisible was behind the Agree/Disagree signs distributed at the town hall to enable members to express their opinion without having to interrupt Congressman Chaffetz. I know. Disruptive with a capital “D.” Don’t be fooled by that respectable front, however. Courtney called on members to continue their offensive this month with a postcard blitz aimed at local representatives. So much stamp licking. And think of the paper cuts. I’m shuddering just contemplating it. Pure evil.
Next up was Madalena McNeil from Utahns Speak Out, another local activist group. She encouraged attendance at the upcoming Town Hall for All, an event organized to allow constituents to ask questions of absentee representatives. (Think speaking to cardboard cut-outs of Mia Love, because thanks to Chaffetz’s alt-facts, state reps refused to hold a single public town hall during the congressional recess.) Utahns Speak Out has invited reps and groups from across the political spectrum to speak and sponsor the event, but most GOP organizations and candidates declined. McNeil said she’d had a “nice conversation” on the radio, when Republican chairman James Evans crashed her interview, and was pleased that he’d agreed to attend the event.
Shockingly, microphones were provided for attendees to ask questions. For professional agitators and protesters, these folks seemed strangely unfamiliar with the apparatus. Consummate actors, I assume. Ahem.
Indivisible organizers then asked for a show of hands by congressional district. When they called congressional district 3, more than fifty percent of hands shot violently into the air and a muffled snicker went through the room. I’m still not sure I got the joke.
After meeting together in smaller district committees, participants began to trickle out of the church and into the lobby. Meanwhile, I conducted my search for evidence of Soros affiliation. I did find these strange masonic symbols. Looks like evidence of a secret society to me.
This woman seemed very confused about where her check was. Soros, if you’re reading this, you really need to pay your people. And also, I have a great idea for a Kickstarter. Call me.
I escaped from my first Indivisible meeting with more questions than answers. But I’m pretty sure I deserve a medal for surviving this raucous crowd of rebel rousers.
Indivisible describes themselves as an “organized resistance to the Trump agenda.” If you’d like to learn more about the grassroots effort, you can visit indivisibleguide.com to find a chapter near you. Or drop into a meeting. For reals. Unlike our congressional representatives, Indivisible doesn’t seem to mind uninvited guests.