I just spent an hour and a half talking to my son. I love my kids, and you won't find a more devoted mother, but sometimes I wonder if they are really of my DNA. My daughter, 25, loves Sinatra and I love heavy metal. She wears tweed and I wear leather. Although she is very conservative in appearance (and decries my multiple piercings vehemently,) she is, thankfully, very liberal in her politics. Her hubby, my son-in-law, is too politically conservative for my taste, by far, but I love him like my own son and worry about him daily, while he is in Iraq.
And then, sigh, we have my son, age 30. I love him, truly I do, but to my eternal dismay, the man is a Republican. (I struggle even to type those words, frankly.)
I don't know where it came from (if I did, I'd send it back,) or how it happened at all. I know he didn't get it from me. I've always been an avid Democrat. He watched me work fundraisers, promote causes, and knock on doors as he was growing up. He knew I was confused when his politics as a young adult veered so radically to the right of my own. He and I argued loud and long over the Bush debacle. I swore the man would be a tyrant and his ego would engage us in a war; my son was convinced I was wrong and (sigh) voted accordingly.
Then came Iraq. My son told me repeatedly all the Republican talking points and I sadly, sometimes angrily, repeatedly told him they were full of... well, you know. Of course, time proved Momma right and the "war" drug on and on, with tragic bloodshed. I tried desperately not to say "I told you so," knowing that, despite his insane Republican tendencies, he is an intelligent young man and knew without being told.
I did try to raise my children to be independent thinkers. I always encouraged them to develop their own opinions, even from a young age. I tried to respect their individuality. But sometimes, you cannot help but wonder "where did I go wrong?" I mean, really, my son? A Republican?? He realizes that was a bitter pill for me to swallow. To his credit, he tried to break it to me gently when he first registered as a Republican. He knew it would be painful to me, deeply painful, and would run counter to my most strongly held beliefs. I tried to respond respectfully and in a supportive fashion, acknowledging his independence, yet deep down inside of me a small voice cried out, wondering how any child of mine could turn out this way. I know he didn't get it from me.
So today, my phone rings. Caller ID tells me it's my son. It struck me as odd, because he doesn't typically call me when he's at work. "Mom, I see your guy won." There is a brief silence. "Yes, I'm happy to say that he did." Another quiet moment. "Well, you know, McCain is just too much like Bush for my taste, Mom."
After almost dropping my phone, I tried to keep my breathing even, feeling something large hovering on the horizon. It turns out, he says he's worried about these racist rumors and, you know, 20 years of that pastor and all. We talked through it. I told him he's an adult, it's his vote and his choice, but I'd be happy to share with him all that I have learned during my research. I answered all his questions as directly as I could, trying very hard not to be impatient and screech, "How can you listen to crazy rumors???????"
We talked about how sometimes his Grandpa had said some racist things, but we loved him anyway, even when we disagreed with him. We talked about the fact that not all smooth talkers are phonies (some of us are just lawyers and can't help ourselves.) We discussed each and every concern he had and I worked hard at not being judgmental about the fact that we even had to have this conversation.
Finally, "Well, I just can't vote for McCain, Mom. He's just another Bush and obviously just says what they tell him to say. I'll be voting for your guy this time and I hope you're right again."
I guess maybe he shares my DNA, after all.