There
are a lot of decisions we make when we recount past events. What do we
highlight? What do we gloss over? What do we want to be the lasting impression
we give others? We do this when we talk about our kids’ behaviors, our
marriages, our childhoods and everything else in life. We decide which story to
tell. Do we tell of the struggles or the triumphs, the frustrations or the
pleasant surprises?
I was
faced with this decision when I woke up Wednesday November 3. I had been dealt
a crushing blow the night before. After months of answering questions,
candidate surveys, recruiting volunteers, raising money, speaking to groups,
meeting with people, preparing for forums, responding to endless emails,
updating social media and SO MUCH door knocking … I lost my run for School
Board. The campaign took over my life. I worked really hard as did my team. My
heart was in it which made the loss hurt all the more. I worked with three
wonderful candidates during the campaign (for four spots) and only one of us
won. On Wednesday I went down some spirals. I was broken-hearted so I cried,
frustrated and angry so I went off on rants and embarrassed. I lost publicly
and that brings with it a certain amount of embarrassment. But I knew that the
way in which I framed this wild experience is the way in which it would live on
in my memory, so I had to decide what to tell myself.
I could
beat myself up. I could question if I was actually good enough, if I am good
enough at anything, if everyone knew the whole time I was no good, if it was
all a waste of time … I could think about the stomach aches I had the whole day
of a candidate forum, having no idea what people would ask and what the other
candidates would say (there was definitely some strange moments). I could think
about all the angry and suspicious emails, the ones where people try to trap
you and label you and make you look awful. I could remember only the angry
people who answered their doors. The guy who went off on a LONG rant that
started with typical concerns, then communism and the lying media and then said
“we need to declare war on school boards.” That was the only time I lost it the
whole campaign (well, publicly). I got really mad at that kind of language. I
was mad that people told me I needed a security camera system at home if I won
and that I needed to find ways to ensure the safety of my children. I told him
that kind of violent language was not ok. He saw how upset I was and was
shocked. Or maybe the guy who went off on my ten-year-old about critical race
theory and the National Educator’s Association while he was innocently standing
alone waiting for his dad. It left my son in shock, fear and swearing he would
never run for political office. Then there was the morning when my fingers were
frozen, everything kept blowing away, my head was pounding and just as I was
finishing canvassing a housing development a guy yelled at me for being there
and said it wasn’t allowed. I dreaded the angry emails that would follow. So
much anger came at me and I am not sure why. There was the day I found out how
much “dark money” was going into the campaigns of my opponents. Right after I
was so proud of surpassing my fundraising goal of $10,000 I found out that an
outside group was giving $100,000 to other candidates. That did not feel good.
And all the doors closed right in my face while I was talking, honestly those
were my least favorite. I felt like I wasn’t even seen as a human being. There
were setbacks, stomach aches and things said by others that were so upsetting.
It was hard to express to people how important the election was and in the end
I was so angry at the low voter turnout (when compared with other school board
elections in past years). People did not care but I cared SO MUCH. Is that the
story? One of defeat, anger, embarrassment and frustration?
There is
more to it than that. My youngest son loved knocking on doors and talking to
people. People were so kind to him. I stood in driveways with people as they
poured out their hearts to me, shared what they have learned and what they care
about and I felt completely honored by that. I connected with people over the
phone while phone banking and got to really share who I was. I met amazing
people who are doing great work for this city despite defeats. People who have
lived here a long time and worked hard to establish themselves threw their
weight behind me because they believed in me. Teachers gave up their Saturdays
or stayed after a long day of school to knock on doors in support of me. The
people at our church were so excited and supportive and it felt like I was
doing it with them. Meet the candidate events became an exciting time of
sharing ideas and making new friends. People I had never met put my name in
their yards, on their windshields and filled in the circle next to it on their
ballots. Friends and family I grew up with gave generously. Former teachers and
former church members made financial contributions and sent emails of
encouragement. I got to see so many corners of this city and most people were
happy to see me walking their neighborhood. And the thank yous. So many thank
yous. “Thank you for doing this.” How could I tell this story without that? The
bond I made with Chris, Shawn and Julie. The way we fought together for the
bond renewal so the students of this community could have facilities that aren’t
crumbling around them. The pride my family had when they saw my signs or heard
my radio ads or we got a flyer in the mail with my face on it. The opportunity
I had to work with so many intelligent and good people, especially my campaign
manager. The possibility of getting to serve the students, the hope I had in
the future of our school district, the feeling that I was actually doing
something about it. Plus, I learned so much. I got to tour schools, meet with
administrators, research public school funding, listen to speakers who have
been in this field for a long time and read so much about topics that were new
to me. It felt like I was back in school (which I love). And that guy who
yelled at me when my fingers were frozen and my head was pounding … he found me
later to apologize and his compassion made my heart flood with compassion.
No
matter how I tell the story I can’t change the ending. I lost. Am I humbled
that I got over 15,000 votes or embarrassed that I missed a spot by over 2,000
votes? Depends on the day. The fact that I lost is real, but I know that
sometimes we learn and grow more from losses than from wins. I know that I
would not have lost if I had never tried. I know that I worked hard and gave it
my all and am proud of the campaign I ran.
In the
first few days after the election people kept talking about “when you run again”
or “next time.” It was a completely ridiculous idea to me. I told my team to
throw away the signs and shut down the account. But now I have a stack of signs
tucked away in the corner of my garage, not because I plan to run again but
because I have learned that I have no idea what life will bring … and I am not
afraid of losing. I was given an amazing opportunity to stretch myself and open
myself up to something I had never experienced before. And so as I etch this
experience into my long term memory I do so with all the emotions- anger,
frustration, joy, sadness but it is all wrapped in gratitude. My hope is that
will always be the subject, moral and ending of the story whenever and however
I tell it … gratitude.
