Taking the higher road...

I’ve been so busy of late, juggling motherhood, three jobs, and volunteering at the radio station, that I haven’t had the time or energy to blog… but found inspiration today in the most unsettling way.

Any of my coworkers could tell you that I’m not really cut out to work in politics. I’m either too naïve, too nice, too sensitive, or too honest – your pick, as I’ve been told that they all apply. One thing I do know is that you will never see me running for public office and my hat is off to anyone who does.

You’d think after so many years working in media, I’d of developed thick skin, but I haven’t. Nor have I developed an ability to let people talking smack about those I care about roll off my back… I tend to come out swinging and it’s not unheard of for me to end up smacking myself in the face at the same time. But there are depths to which I will never sink and one of those is attacking someone’s children.

In the recent battle for the Republican seat in the upcoming election for Governor of Guam, I have been very disheartened to witness some of the worst examples of dirty politicking that I have ever seen. This had already been a tough campaign period for me as someone I consider a friend is a candidate on the team opposing mine, which ironically is also made up of people I’m friendly with. I remember telling him, more than a year ago, that he was going to make my life very difficult, as obviously, no one wants to choose between friends.

Regardless, we made a pact to continue being friends no matter how the upcoming election should turn out, but lately I fear that promise may end up falling apart through no fault of his or mine.

Despite my naïve hopes that this election would remain unsullied by personal attacks, it has become ugly and, worse, one of the ugliest races I’ve ever seen, let alone had a front row seat for. It has become nastier and more brutal as each day passes and my belief that elections can be conducted solely by promoting the merits and qualifications of a candidate have dwindled at the same pace.

It has gone beyond the traditional name calling that one might expect as each side has now had their children dragged in to the fray to be used as weapons to score points off the other. While I believe it may have been the Democrat team who actually plucked the string that shot the first arrow, sadly aimed at my friend on the other side, the supporters of both camps have since willingly embraced the negative tactics that will undoubtedly result in an irreparable implosion that will last long past the election this November.

It is sad to watch as people I respect and consider friends have their private lives dissected and demeaned in public, to watch as their children are used as political pawns, and as they themselves are manipulated in to behavior that they would typically be well above. I imagine that they would tell me not to worry, that this is the life they chose in order to be public servants, and that they are each in possession of the thick skin I so sorely lack. Perhaps they would be right, but I still grieve over a process that didn’t need to become so depressing to watch.

Today, however, I find my grief turning to outrage and anger as my own family has been dragged in to the fight, in particular, my eleven year old son.

Throughout this election process, I have been attacked in the online postings of a local newspaper, despite having no official role in the campaign of the team I support. Once I found I was being blamed for being part of something I knew nothing about and had to make several phone calls to figure out exactly what it was that I was being blamed for. Thick skin or no, I have taken these occurrences in stride as par for the course of having a job at the Governor’s office.

That said, there is absolutely no justifiable excuse for anyone to use my son in an attack on me or to do it from a place of anonymity where I cannot even properly defend him, as any mother would want to do. To call this attack cowardly does not even begin to describe my disgust or fury that someone would stoop so low as to use my child in such a way, particularly when I’ve been very open and clear about my feelings over using anyone’s child in such a manner.

Whoever these people are, as there is more than one, they do seem to know quite a bit about my personal life. In fact, they seem to be aware of intimate details about me and my son that only my closest friends would know. I find that nearly as distressing as hearing, then reading for myself, that my son was used in a public forum designed to hurt me for something that, once again, I played no role in.

False friends are like false prophets. Eventually they are found out for the fake poseurs they really are and I pray that God continues to guide my footsteps towards forgiveness and faith that no retribution I could dream up would even begin to compare with what He can dish out.

God bless all of the children who are being so sadly used at this time. Sometimes adults are just plain evil and the best we can do is try to lead by example, teaching our children that it is always best to take the higher road.