When school started in the fall of 1952, I was a fourth-grader at Balsam Lake Elementary School in rural northwestern Wisconsin. My teacher, Mrs. Olson, encouraged discussion about the upcoming Presidential election.
President Truman had decided not to run for a second term. Would our new President be Dwight D. Eisenhower, the popular WWII general, who championed civil rights, school desegregation, and an end to the war in Korea? Or would it be Adlai Stevenson, the gifted orator and highly respected Democratic governor of Illinois?
We should listen to the radio, read newspapers, discuss the issues with friends and family, and try to form our own opinions. We should learn the difference between facts and opinions. When we were listening to opinions, we should think about how and why those opinions were formed.
“People can have very strong views, especially when it comes to politics,” Mrs. Olson said. “But strong feelings and clever words don’t necessarily mean the speaker is correct or wise.”
There was a new girl in class that fall – Billie Jean Hawkins from the state of Georgia. We didn’t get many new students in our stable farming community – certainly not students from a faraway state, who spoke in accents we had never heard before.
Billie Jean had particular trouble with personal pronouns. “I” sounded like “Ah” and “you” came out as “y’all.” I was fascinated, and eager to make friends with her, especially when I learned that Billie Jean’s family was renting a long-vacant farmhouse just a half mile down the road from our farm.
I don’t remember – if I ever knew - why a Georgia family ended up in this unlikely place. I do remember well how terrified Billie Jean was by all the “I like Ike” buttons people were wearing on their shirts. The prospect of his election brought her to tears. “Mah Daddy says that if Ike gets elected he’ll take away our TV and our car too!”
“Oh, I don’t see how that could happen,” I said, trying to comfort my new friend.
“It’s true! We heard it on TV!”
My family did not own a television set, so what did I know about that? But my parents also “liked Ike” and talked about voting for him.
The morning of election day, we were surprised when Billie Jean’s mother and father knocked on our door. (Neither family had telephone service, so they couldn’t call ahead.) They had no transportation, they said, and could they please get a ride into town so they could vote?
Oh, no, I thought! Billie Jean was right! Eisenhower has already come and taken away their car.
But that was not the case. It was simply a mechanical problem that would be fixed in a day or two. Of course my parents were neighborly. They were planning a trip into town to vote within the hour. Mr. and Mrs. Hawkins were welcome to ride along.
“Mama!” I whispered. “They are going to vote for Stevenson! Why don’t you all just stay home? If you take them along, their vote will cancel out your vote and Daddy’s too! You might as well save the time and trouble.”
Then and there, Mama gave me an out-loud lecture on the privilege and duty of voting, expressing political opinions, and respecting the rights of others to do the same, even when you don’t agree with them.
Later that evening I asked my dad why he was a Republican. “I don’t consider myself a Republican,” he explained. “I’m an independent voter. I vote for the man who I think can do the best job. I like what Ike has to say. He knows a lot about war and he says it is time to get out of Korea. He wants civil rights for oppressed people, and that’s a moral issue that I have to support. He sees a need for a better system of roads across this country. That’s going to cost a lot of money and I expect my taxes will go up to help pay for it. I might never drive on the interstate highways — farmers have to stay pretty close to home – but I believe better roadways will benefit our country in the long run.”
That November, Eisenhower won by a landslide. He won our mock-election in the classroom, too. Billie Jean was terribly upset by the Republican victory.
“Everybody in the South knows better than to vote for a Republican! What is the matter with y’all up here?” (Remember, this was 1952, prior to the dramatic political about-face that took place in the American South during the 1960s when Democratic presidents, Kennedy and Johnson, pushed hard for further civil rights reform.)
Billie Jean sulked when Mrs. Olson hung up a portrait of our President-elect, alongside the ever-present portraits of Washington and Lincoln. She refused to salute the flag, along with the rest of the class during morning exercises. Mrs. Olson did not punish her, but gave her time to learn, on her own, that her fears were not founded on fact but misguided opinions.
I’ll fast-forward now, to the fall of 2009. I am 66 years old and these fourth-grade lessons have stuck with me well. Prejudice, blind self-interest, and outright lies are still with us, in politics and many other aspects of life. I expect that will always be so.
We are now privileged with access to more information than ever before; we are also burdened with a great deal of hype and punditry and entertainment that tries to masquerade as “news.”
Are we teaching our children to discern the difference? Are we encouraging them to read and listen to opposing opinions, explore viewpoints that do not necessarily coincide with what they are hearing at home or at church or in the neighborhood? Are children learning the essential skills of open-minded inquiry and critical thinking?
And are we, as a community, demonstrating that self-interest must sometimes be set aside for the sake of the greater good? Are we teaching our children respect for our great governmental institutions, even when we disagree with the politics of the man or woman in office?
In my opinion, we are failing our children on several counts. That was sadly demonstrated last week when President Obama addressed our nation’s school children, encouraging them to stay in school, work hard at their educations, and pursue their dreams. The response from many parents, educators and political pundits was nothing short of shameful.
I feel good to be expressing my deeply held opinion about that. I feel good about coming out of the political closet, freely expressing views that do not conform with the majority in my community.
Yes, let me come right out and say it: I admire and respect and support President Obama, including his proposals for healthcare reform. I know he does not have all the answers — which is why we must all work together for needed change – but I believe he is the best man we can find for the job.
I will write no more anonymous rants to the “Free Speech” column of this newspaper. Instead, I will have enough integrity to sign my name to my own opinions.
Speech we dare not sign our name to is not really free. That’s something else I learned back in the fourth grade, thanks to a teacher named Mrs. Olson and parents who looked to the greater good and had the courage of their own convictions.
Sara DeLuca
Peachtree City, Ga.