Small Town Politicin’
08 Jan 2010 Leave a Comment
I’m no stranger to the world of politics. Growing up, my parents were good friends with several politicians and I attended campaign events. Later I worked as the campaign finance manager (basically data entry) for six or seven political candidates. Just last year my father was elected District Judge and I helped with his campaign. When I was a kid my dad was on a committee of people who counted absentee votes and he often let me accompany him. We would get locked into a small room in the courthouse and count paper ballots and eat pizza all night. I thought it was great fun, and it made a big impression on me.
I’ve spent plenty of time in the “backstage” of the political world, so, I guess its only natural that I would one day dip my toes into a leading role. I recently had an opportunity come my way that caused me to look further into this possibility. My problem is, I’m not convinced that I want to be in this play.
On the surface, the idea of holding political office is intriguing. I’m not old enough to have lost all of my “Pollyanna” ideas of saving the world. I am attracted to the idea of being able to “make a difference.” It is very cliché, but I do have a great sense of pride in my community. I still live in the small southern town where I was born, raised, graduated high school, and started my own family. In fact, I live in the same town where my great-grandmother was born and raised. I am aware that this fact is very unusual in our day and age and I see it as a privilege.
I know that its not en vogue to want to stay in a small town, but why not? I don’t think that a person’s potential has to be limited by geography. In our technological age, people around the globe can have virtually the same opportunities. And I guarantee that my little town hasn’t seen near the unemployment and foreclosure rates as you “city folk” have. Plus, my kids can ride their bikes all over the neighborhood without giving me a panic attack!
But I digress…my point is, I have what might be seen as a sense of ownership in my town. It’s a pride that not everyone has, and I think I could put it to good use. My other qualifications might be that I’m educated (college degree), I’m family oriented (mom of 3), I own a local business so I have experience and stock in what happens to the commerce in our town. All that stuff that looks good on a ballot.
But what about the stuff that doesn’t look so good? What about the mud slinging that seems to go hand in hand with small town politicin’? That part makes me want to tuck tail and run! If you brush off my outer layer of frosting, what you find beneath might not make for the ideal political candidate.
First, I’m a white woman. Not bad. I think we’ve evolved enough to allow women into the political arena these days – as long as I’m not running for something like Vice President. The problem is, I’m a white woman who is married to a minority. Okay, so he’s Korean, but let’s remember, I live in the same state where a Justice of the Peace recently refused to marry an interracial couple. It’s not as bad of a lynching offense as would be shackin’ up with a black man, but to some, it does blemish my record.
On the other hand, this could be an advantage. People can be really funny when it comes to race. The mere fact that my husband is not white puts me on a different playing field. There are people of different races whom I have known all my life who never spoke to me before I married my husband. It’s like now I’m viewed in a different light. I became a kindred. I’m still a white girl, but now they seem to give me a little more credit. I think “they” (minorities – I don’t mean that in a derogatory manner) don’t have to automatically put up that defensive wall with me because they assume I’m more accepting. Its been quite an amazing transition to watch. So, while I may have closed some doors, perhaps I’ve opened others.
Secondly, there is the issue of religion. Anyone who has ever read any of my blogs knows that I am a deeply spiritual person. Religion is a huge part of my life. But, electability comes with perfect attendance in the Bible belt. If asked, I will call myself a Christian. However, I’ll preface that by saying that I hate religious stereotypes and clumping people into theological/cultural groups. If being a Christian means I am a follower of Christ, then yes. I find much inspiration in the Bible, I pray daily, and I was even Baptized in the River Jordan. But no, I don’t always vote with the religious right, I don’t think Muslims are all terrorists, I don’t think dancing is a sin, and I even drink alcohol! I don’t fit neatly into anyone’s preconceived notion of what a “good Christian” is or should be – nor do I want to. “What Would Jesus Do?” Yes, I ask myself that often, and my answer is not always the same as “What would Pat Roberston do?” or even “What would Ann Coulter do?”
Simply put, I don’t attend church every Sunday. In fact, I don’t attend church on a very regular basis. I am a member of a wonderful church, and my children attend many of the youth activities, and we do go on occasional Sundays. But, Sunday is our family day. Sunday is sometimes the only day that all of the members of my family are home and have no obligations. I love having a day when we can all climb in the bed and watch a movie, or eat a home cooked meal together. Church doesn’t have to be sitting in a pew, half listening, thinking about the itchy pantyhose you are wearing. Church can be reading the Bible to my young son, or talking about making positive choices with my teen daughter, or singing praise songs in the car. I do believe in the notion of God first, family second – but God is ALWAYS there, not just on Sunday – sometimes my family IS only there on Sunday. But, unfortunately, the voters might see that as an unexcused absence.
My third strike is my employment record. I am an RN who has worked in several hospitals and most recently was the Assistant Director of Nursing of a Nursing Home. I hated the bureaucracy of working in a hospital, but I loved my patients and their families. I love making a difference in someone’s life, or alleviating someone’s pain just a little, or making someone feel just a tiny bit less afraid. I don’t think anyone can knock that on a ballot. I’ve given up my nursing job because I felt that my children needed more of a full-time mom. It was a personal decision that I feel blessed to have been able to make – and I realize that not all women want to or are able to do the same. But, it is working for my family. Again, that is not something that most voters would knock.
When my kids are at school, I help my husband with his business. He opened a restaurant about six years ago, and it has become very successful. Okay, so entrepreneurial drive, management skills, marketing experience – I’ve got it all – what’s the problem? Well, he also owns a night club. Three strikes you’re out? Enough said? I don’t know.
About a year ago we noticed that our restaurant had a large late-night clientele. Our town is home to a military base, so obviously we have a big population of young, often single soldiers with not much to do. Partying it up on Friday and Saturday nights is par for the course on a military base. So, after much discussion my husband and I decided that it would be a wise business decision to capitalize on this customer base. It was an easy business decision – it was like “if you build it they will come.” But, it was not a decision that we took lightly.
We weighed the pros and cons for quite a while. There was the idea that I didn’t want to take advantage of young soldiers, or ever think that I was leading someone down the wrong path. I didn’t want to be the one providing a haven of drunken debauchery. But, on the other hand, our customers are legal age adults who can think for themselves. Many of them have made the decision to pick up a gun and march into harm’s way in some foreign desert, so I think they can make the decision to pick up a beer. I’m not going to change the way people live or have fun – but I can provide a place where they can do it responsibly and safely. We are diligent about checking IDs and encouraging people not to drink and drive. We give people a place where they feel at home. For many of these soldiers, our bar IS like a home away from home. We are the place where “everybody knows your name.” And yes, I’ll say it unashamedly, it has allowed us to provide a better living for our family. So, if I have to trade a few votes for the ability to send my children to college – so be it.
But the fact is, the night life is looked down upon by many. And we, as the owners are seen as proliferating this “sinful” lifestyle. Some seem to think that if all the bars closed down then the people would just go to church instead. Sorry, but that’s just not likely. And as I said before, church doesn’t always happen on a wooden pew. You can’t always preach to the choir. I’ve had many a deep, spiritual discussion sitting on a bar stool. I don’t believe that God purposes for us to only minister to fellow so-called “Christians.” If I can share a shot of Tequila and a few encouraging words with a down and out soul, what harm have I done? Perhaps I’ve done some good. I personally think if Jesus was alive today he would more likely be found in a strip club than in a Christian book store. (No, I don’t mean looking at boobs, I mean reaching out to people.) But that’s just my opinion.
And my opinion very likely would not get me elected in the small southern town that I love. But, then again, maybe it would. Worse things have happened! Now the biggest problem is fitting all of this into a 200 word or less handout that the average Joe can read and understand. Ha! I know – good luck with that one!
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