This feature is part of our Politics and Entertainment week, looking at the points where art and issues overlap.
Parks and Recreation is a show about friendship, community, feminism, love, family and of course, politics. It’s the politics that, unfairly, sometimes gets lost when we reminisce about the best Ron Swanson one-liners or when fans swap Leslie Knope feminist memes on Twitter. Don’t get me wrong, Pyramids of Greatness and listicles chronicling every time Amy Poehler’s character shut down sexism on the show are great, but in a time when our political system has morphed into a bad reality TV show, we need a reminder of the power government has to affect positive change and to unite people, not divide them. We need a lesson in diplomacy done right. We need Parks and Rec.
In Pawnee, politics often fuels the storylines – from Leslie’s tireless battle to turn the pit beside best friend Ann Perkins’ house into a beautiful new park to her run for city council, her fight against giant tech corporations and sugar monopolies like Sweetums, her husband’s campaign for mayor and her eventual turn at the White House. Politics is in Leslie Knope’s blood, and therefore the show’s. It’s easy to forget that now, especially when any mention of the “P” word immediately unearths feelings of dread, disappointment and, often, downright anger. Politics is a charged topic in the current climate and the state of this year’s presidential race, which is why it’s more important than ever to recognize the political message Parks and Rec attempted to convey through seven seasons of brilliant comedy.
At the Patton Oswalt-hosted PaleyFest panel in 2014, co-creator Michael Schur explained how politics fueled relationships on the show, specifically between two polar opposites like Ron Swanson and Leslie Knope. “In very broad strokes, Republicans and Democrats in this country simply don’t talk to each other and they don’t try to fix problems,” Schur said. “The sort of cynicism of government, I think in my opinion, is worse than it’s ever been. And we just wanted to say one guy could have a set of extremely fervent beliefs that run completely counter to the beliefs of his coworker and they can still just get along and respect each other and admire each other and find things in common and they can sit down and have a glass of whiskey together at the end of a long night.”
Ron and Leslie’s relationship is one built on respect, which makes it easy for them to separate their political beliefs from their personal relationship, even when those beliefs seep into the workplace. Ron is a libertarian. His dream is to privatize the Park Department he works for and have it run entirely for profit by corporations like Chuck E. Cheese — they have an impeccable business model, after all. He believes no government is the best kind of government. A man’s man, he’s more interested in wood carving, hunting, construction work and bacon than he is in actually making a change through governmental programs – ironic considering he works for one. By contrast, his second in command, Leslie, is a fervent believer in the power of government. She created her first campaign ad when she was a 10-year-old, promising better schools, safer streets and a more progressive tax on residential properties. Her office is adorned with photos of strong, experienced female politicians, she has waffle dates with Madeline Albright, her ideal man has the body of Joe Biden, and her optimism when it comes to the ability of government to positively affect the lives of local citizens is both inspiring and often drives the show’s plots.
Their relationship, more than any other, is the foundation for the show and provides one of its most powerful lessons: If a man who hates government to his core and a woman who believes in it with all her being can put their differences aside on a daily basis to work together and have a meaningful, lasting friendship, what does it say about those who can’t even cross the aisle to get things done? Or worse, what does it say about normal citizens who can’t find any common ground during this election year, or refuse to participate in elections all together?
Parks and Rec was able to make its political leanings work in part because they were localized. Leslie wasn’t campaigning for better gun control laws, voicing her opinion on Black Lives Matter or standing up for women’s rights in the abortion battle. (She would’ve because she was feminist as hell, but that’s beside the point.) Instead, she was trying to raise money for diabetes research or working hard to get a Harvest Festival up and running. Government at a localized level is admittedly less controversial than when it has to deal with those hot-button issues, but that doesn’t mean Leslie and her Parks Department didn’t face opposition.
At every turn, Knope’s good intentions are blocked by her fellow Pawneeians. When she wants to introduce a soda tax to help improve the lives of residents – Pawnee’s obesity rates were the fourth highest in the nation – she faces backlash from citizens complaining she’s infringing on their rights to drink themselves to an early grave. When she tries to teach sex ed to a group of senior citizens contracting STDs at an alarming rate, she faces religious conservatives worried her class would one day find itself in their children’s schools. When her Harvest Festival happens to be on Native American burial ground, she goes up against the media and Native American leader Chief Ken Hotate who called for the event to be relocated. When she finds herself running against Bobby Newport — a man who benefits from his father’s beloved legacy amongst town residents and his large inheritance — for city council, she counters by reminding Pawnee residents that they’re the ones who control the future of their town, not wealthy families who own sugar factories.
Leslie Knope faces criticism, cynicism, ignorance and stubbornness throughout her career in government, but what makes her work as a politician, and the show work as a comedy with political roots of a sort we’ve never seen before is the optimism, humor, and drive with which she met these challenges. When the Harvest Festival, her biggest project to date, is threatened in season three, Knope doesn’t to resort to name-calling or backhanded politics in order to silence her opposition. She doesn’t give up, stage a sit-in or cancel the festival all together. Instead, she works with her biggest naysayers, finding compromise, admitting her own wrongdoing and moving forward having learned from the experience.
It’s a running theme within the show – Leslie’s relentlessly enthusiastic approach to problem solving and her cheerful resistance of pessimistic, confrontational Pawnee citizens. Those disastrous, sometimes frighteningly hostile town-hall meetings provide the best proof of this. Knope endures insults, unrealistic demands and thrown Frisbees in order to give residents the chance to help improve their town. She may not agree with really anything her fellow townspeople propose or particularly like being on the receiving end of angry, pointless tirades, but she does it, not only because it’s her job but because she believes in the people’s right to a voice in government and respects every individual’s rights to their own opinions — however misguided or irrational those opinions might be.
It’s why her relationship with Ron Swanson rarely faltered. Though Ron capitalized on every opportunity to derail governmental programs she often fought for, though he belittled the political system she held in high regard and though he often contributed nothing to Parks Department projects she spearheaded, Leslie Knope never wavered in her belief that she could convince her friend, mentor and colleague of his own political potential. Similarly, Ron could’ve easily been a roadblock in Leslie’s governmental aspirations. He could’ve worked to get her fired for often going over his head, taking on projects without permission and taking control of the department in order to further her own agenda. Instead, he counseled her when things went awry, supported her when she decided to run for office, and went to bat for her when she made mistakes.
One of the best examples of the strength of Ron and Leslie’s relationship came during the show’s final season when the two were at odds. An episode dedicated entirely to their friendship — the creation, dissolution and reparation of it — had Ron reminiscing on when he first hired Leslie.
“Leslie Knope is an absurd idealist whose political leanings are slightly to the left of Leon Trotsky,” he wrote after their first meeting. “If we were to work together, she would undoubtedly drive me insane, and it is possible that we would murder each other. Hire her.”
Ron knew he would be at odds with Leslie throughout their professional relationship. He saw in her someone eager to impart her beliefs on others — beliefs he didn’t share — and ready to wreak havoc on the simple, ineffective system he had in place at the office. She was his opposite, she would undoubtedly cause trouble for him, but he hired her anyway because he welcomed that challenge and the opportunity it afforded him to see things from a different perspective. And, deep down, Ron knew his personal values weren’t the top priority in his governmental career. He was often able to set those aside to work with Leslie and help others.
Maybe Parks and Rec can’t help us navigate our current political landscape. There are too many heavy issues to think that a TV show, a comedy no less, can solve our problems. But if we can take even one page from Leslie Knope’s book, one lesson from the show’s political undertones, it’s that, instead of looking at politics as a pointless enterprise, instead of feeling defeated by lackluster presidential candidates or systemic injustice, we should instead follow the example of a tiny Parks Department in a fictional town in Indiana.
Parks and Rec reminds us of the power of local government, the ability politics and the people in politics have to affect real, positive change if given the chance, and the support but it requires us to not only be involved, to be vigilant and educated, it also demands that we sometimes put aside our personal feelings for the collective good — like Leslie and Ron. Parks and Rec is, at its heart, a love letter to the promise of politics. It’s a commentary on the importance of peaceful co-existence, the beauty of acceptance, the value in compromise and self-less ideals and the potential people, cities, towns — maybe even nations — have when they work through their differences, let go of their own egos and work towards something greater than themselves. Maybe it’s time we take a page out of that book.
