Commentary : Her Race for Congress Was a Lost Cause, but This Loser Was a Winner

I sat quietly in the dim light of 3 a.m. June 8, 1988. Until that moment, I had watched the returns for the 40th Congressional District race. As one of the 14 candidates on the Republican ballot, I made the party-recommended strategic move--I dropped out and supported a “front-runner.”

But still, knowing full well that there would be votes for me, I needed to know how I stacked up in the final returns. It wasn’t bad on a budget of under $5,000 at $2.44 per vote, compared to the winner at about $21.84 per vote. My mind drifts randomly over the events of my first political campaign. Was I naive, brave or stupid to take on this race? Perhaps a little of each.

A 15-year-old student told me we could substantially reduce the U.S. deficit if all the money used in political campaigns was applied to the debt. I have no answer--he is right. We have allowed the political candidates to outrageously spend money to buy votes purchased by donated money from special-interest factions. But it is easier to take the money than to take action to change the system.

A candidate in the 40th who fancied himself a leading contender but fell far below me in the final count, told me I didn’t deserve to be accorded the courtesies of a candidate for this race because I hadn’t “gone through the chairs”; that is to say, I didn’t start at the bottom and play the political game before running for this, an important office. And now I have a glimpse of why it happens that we the people frequently vote against and not for a candidate. But we don’t object; we accept, and we complain because it is easier than taking action to make change.

The press--what power it has, and yet we read the paper believing that what is in black and white must be as it is. Day after day I checked the paper, and I saw stories on the three front-runners. At last I’ve figured it out. A front-runner is a candidate with a great deal of money collected to support his campaign and a candidate who has credibility because he knows other politicians. The press thinks stories about these guys sell papers and they are right; a little scandal, a little rumor, T-shirts with the face of a nearly convicted Washington personality--those are the stories. Two women struggling to be heard have no paper appeal. Honest “second-tier” candidates--who wants to read about them? And we buy the papers believing what we read and encouraging a system that develops less-than-dynamic leaders. But it’s easy to accept. How can I, a mere citizen, fight somebody who buys ink by the barrel?

I joined the congressional race because I thought I could make a difference. In my heart I was naive enough to believe that I could run, that it was fair, that government of the people, by the people was real. Shocked and disbelieving, I continued to run the race. My 19-year-old daughter, though, calls it like it is. She was a first-time voter, and the inside view of the political race was disillusioning. She was disappointed. I was disappointed too, but I stuck with it because somehow I suspected my running for Congress would make a difference.

Now I sit here and I wonder; did I make a difference? My support for another candidate might have made a difference, but the votes show otherwise. I’m told I affected the tone of the forums. Perhaps I did. The apathy of the voters (a less than 50% turnout of registered voters for the primary) is discouraging. How can I effect change back to government of and by the people? Perhaps it is only a dream--the American Dream. I am tired; it has been a long race. There is only the reward of knowing I did it; I had the courage to try to change “the System.” Crazy? Maybe. Exhilarating and depressing at the same time? Absolutely.

It wasn’t until the day after the election, when I shared the final results with my oldest daughter, that the true reward, the true difference came to me. My daughter told me: “You’ve always said I could do anything if I wanted to, that I could just go for it. Now I know what you mean and I can see. You have taught me that in this country you can go after anything you want--you can always try.”

So this was my purpose. I know why I had to run, and I know why I will get back out there again and again to fight the apathy that threatens to leave me vulnerable, to take away my right to “go for it.”

Bruised, battered, tired and behind in my normal work, I, a first-time political candidate in seventh place out of 14 with 2% of the vote, have won a victory. I know I was heard. I know I made a difference for 2,048 voters and two young ladies who can become our future voice. They are not and cannot be apathetic. So in the end I am a winner. I affected history in my own way.