The Children’s Candidate

I originally wrote this as a Daily KOS diary during the 2008 Texas Primary.  I thought I would republish it here in honor of this historical election.

 

I fell in love with JFK. He was the leader of the leader of the free world and I was in second grade. He awakened some pre-prepubescent womanhood in me. I’d watch network news in hopes of catching a glimpse of my King Arthur and when I did, looked away, blushing.

My babysitter manipulated my crush as pretense for daily chores. I rushed to clean house before a promised visit by the Chief Executive after which I found an “autographed” note from “him” thanking me for the outstanding job of cleaning up for my country, which I hid under my mattress fearful of Secret Service recriminations.

On November 22, 1963, we just finished our school lunch when a red-eyed teacher announced the assassination. I remember belting a classmate because she expressed pleasure in the murder as her dad had voted for Nixon. I never cared much for politics in my childhood years after that.

I work with at-risk students at the poorest elementary school in one of the poorest school districts in this Texas metropolis. Students come and go like garbage toss out in the street. Some are Katrina evacuees still bouncing from one FEMA-subsidized abode to another. Others live with an unraveling tapestry of families — single parents, uncles or aunts, grandparents, foster caretakers. Few parents participate in school functions due to work schedule conflicts, transportation issues, medical problems or lack of childcare. Some only speak Spanish or an Asian language; others are illiterate.

Some kids come to school in the same outfits each day, albeit always properly pressed if not washed. Others arrive in clothes with holes, too short pants, outerwear inappropriate for the season, or shoes a size too small or too big. Almost all the students receive free or reduced cost meals.

I serve as a volunteer mentor to the students with behavior problems. Some act out for unknown reasons but almost always because they receive little attention elsewhere. Some are bullies and some the bullied. Some come from abusive or neglectful homes and others refuse to talk about their families. Many cry for a dying loved one in their first experience with death, or from worry about a relative stationed in Iraq. Some parents are in jail. One 10-year-old helps care for his nephew, the child of his 12-year-old sister. After school, most stay inside playing video games or watching TV because either no play area exists or because the street is ruled by gangs or drug lords.

Today our group of first, second and third graders play cards, a fun and subtle way to teach rules, sharing, teamwork and social skills. I tell them about my childhood crush on President Kennedy. “He was cute,” a girl chimes in. I am surprised that a few know him because they don’t seem to recognize — or not care about — President Bush. Of course, they haven’t a clue about The Beatles either. I mention that Texas has a presidential primary and ask for their advice about my vote.

“Barack Obama!!” they all yell immediately. The students, ages five to eight, were mostly black and Hispanic with a couple “minority” whites — a mixture of boys and girls.

“Why should I vote for him?” I asked intrigued.

“Because he’s like Martin Luther King, Junior!” a black boy states emphatically. I smile because almost all the students never leave out the “Junior” in MLK’s name.

“He’s for civil rights for everyone,” a boy named Juan answered.

“He’s like the lady on the bus. She was tired and didn’t want to move because it was hot in the back. They told her she couldn’t sit there and she said, ‘Yes, I can!’,” said another African-American boy referring to Rosa Parks.

I assumed that most parroted what they heard around a dinner table, the political aspirations of the adults in their life.

“How did you hear about Barack Obama?” I probed.

“My Mom told me,” said one girl.

“I watch him on TV. He’s on the news every day,” said a second grader.

“He talks with the lady on TV,” said another, referring to Hillary Clinton whose name he doesn’t know.

“You should vote for him because he give people hope.”

Children watch the news and a presidential debate. Children know a presidential candidate and what he believes. How long has it been? Nearly 50 years? 

The lines for the early voting in the Texas primary queued down the stairs and out the door, even in the heavily Republican upper class suburban district where I live. 

I voted for the children’s candidate.