As a collective people, we are one nation under exhaustion. Republicans, Democrats, Independents, campaigners, voters, even my hulking coward of a Black Lab who was terrorized by a wind-borne political pamphlet — we are tired!
We need a nap. We need to re-energize ourselves with mugs of cream-dolloped cocoa, a few forbidden carbs and healthy doses of laughter before we reflect upon how we shape a new American image in the coming years, or engage in the next morality battle.
While there were many victories for conservatives this year, I claim a victory for myself and other mothers. I brought my children through an election year without loss of sanity. Or our neighbor’s property.
My family and I live in a swing state, right down to the doorstep. Last week, you could not throw a stick on my street without hitting a row of political signs. We are a Catholic, military family. We were Bush supporters, while our neighbors were for Kerry. Our signs faced off across the street like two gunslingers while the political pamphlets rolled like tumbleweed in the street. In the heat from the campaign, signs sprouted like errant morning glories from fence tops, tree limbs and grassy yards. If a toddler toddled in one place too long, he would likely find himself encased in a literal political arena. The hotter the race, the bigger the signs grew.
My husband and I do not shy away from hot topics with our kids. But like most parents, we pare out the grisly details and try to present our sons with an age-appropriate synopsis. That was nearly impossible during this campaign. Anti-war mothers targeted my six-year-old at an after-school event when he supplied the word “war” for something that rhymed with “four.” One overzealous mother told him war was a bad word, something we didn’t talk about. He came away feeling deflated and confused, unsure if his dad was involved in something “bad.” He questioned me about what she had said. “Mom, aren’t we supposed to remember the soldiers?”
At times, those Kerry-Edwards signs in our neighbor’s yard became the focus of my six- and nine-year-olds’ hostile attention. Maybe strategic planning comes naturally to all young boys, but it’s almost effortless when they have a military man for a dad. More than once, I uncovered secret plots to dress the neighbor’s dog in a “Vote for Bush” T-shirt, thwarted a complex series of air raids and forbade the removal of anything political from our neighbor’s yard.
This campaign brought the issues right into our house. It would have been easy to dismiss “the other side,” to label them as wrong. But I wanted my sons to appreciate their country with all its faults and glories. My children and I had mini-discussions about democracy and free speech over pudding and milk. We debated living in a Communist country (where we had lived for two years) with living in America while driving to soccer games. I demonstrated the difference of living under a dictator’s rule (our house) versus being able to change your life with a vote. I tried my best to explain how we have a responsibility not only as Americans, but also as Catholics while we said our bedtime goodnights and prayers. I waged my own kitchen-campaign for family values, while also volunteering to work on the president’s.
The more plots I discovered, the more I redoubled the effort to make them understand that every American could have his own opinion. I did searches for kid-friendly Constitution Web sites. And more than once, had to nix my own mental attack on the Kerry-Edwards sign across the street.
But we as a nation of voters, and me as a mom, did it. Our own involvement with the grassroots campaign and hours of prayer paid off. My series of eye-glazing lectures ensured that my children still give a friendly wave to the neighbor (who finally removed his own sign from the yard). Whether or not the president can successfully mend the ripped seams of this nation is not as important as what we teach our children about ourselves and the people with whom we disagree.
As President Bush said, “We have one country, one Constitution and one future that binds us. And when we come together and work together, there is no limit to the greatness of America.”
© Copyright 2004 Catholic Exchange
Stephanie Spalding is a journalist, photographer, former news editor and recipient of a Missouri Press Association journalism award.
