To the editor:
Too often, choosing a political candidate feels like picking a colonoscopy prep.
Lucky for us, that’s not the case with next week’s board of education election.
I’m sure every candidate “cares about the children,” but Kathryn Cohen and Darra Gordon seem fueled by an empathy for those kids who need our concern the most, students who are “different” because of how they learn and who they are. As the father of sons with learning differences, I know Cohen and Gordon’s particular kind of generosity is a powerful virtue.
Cohen and Gordon also come to this election with impressive track-records of accomplishment: fiscal management, organizational leadership, and maybe most importantly, a talent for creating community. At a moment when our “school issues” are colliding with our “town issues” in a fracas of finger-pointing, I think we’d all benefit from folks on the board, like Cohen and Gordon, with experience building bridges across diverse communities.
But I’d be less-than-honest if I ended this endorsement there—because much to the disagreement of some dear friends with shared political values, I also think Ian Rowe is a terrific choice for the board. Rowe has dedicated his life to education, building and running impressive schools. He brings extremely unique expertise to the board. Rowe’s also raised some very important issues for us all to consider: The importance of administrative accountability, the critical need for expanded facilities, and yes, the scary link between mental health and cell phones in school. I also know Rowe as a kind, clever neighbor who always leaves me thinking harder after a conversation. I won’t agree with him on every issue, but I believe Rowe has a thoughtful voice that that can enrich our discussions and improve our schools.
Patient readers will now notice that I’ve endorsed three candidates when I can only vote for two. Ideally these three contenders would compete for my vote by showering me with gin cocktails, but I’m sure there are rules against such a sensible approach.
Instead, I have to ask myself some tough questions about my own convictions.
And strangely for a guy who often gets high on his own supply of self-righteous certitude, I’m finding myself a little fuzzy here, a little lost in the land of not-so-sure…
I think our kids would be better off without their phones in schools—or do I?… I think the school board should turn over any land the village needs to fix our flooding problem—or do I?…. I think our high taxes have given our school district more than enough money—and yet, I’m sure we need costly renovations…. I think expertise matters most. No, I think passion matters most. No, I think the practical art of getting along with others matters most….
Sometimes, I know my beliefs in my bones. Trump, Biden, Latimer, Bowman, Ukraine, Alabama—these are easy calls. And maybe these are easy calls, in part, because I see them from a distance. But here in Pelham, in this election, with my kids and my neighbors, well… Maybe local politics is tough precisely because it’s where our real values meet our real lives.
Does anybody else feel this sense of uneasy uncertainty, a little dizzy in the shadow of question marks? Social media makes it seem like we’re all so damn sure—the usual suspects in the usual places, myself usually included. And if you’re one of those people for whom these issues come easy, awesome for you—but I have to believe there’s a bit more sloppy scramble in most of us than that.
For me, I know I’ll remain frequently confused after Tuesday, and I’m sure I can’t untangle those political knots all by myself.
So who’s in? Who wants to meet at Rockwell’s on May 23 at 7 p.m.? I’ll be the guy hiding in the corner—and maybe, we can discuss it all, the chunky-and-awkward reality of local politics. And we can do it without the security blanket of a social media screen. And maybe we can even do it with some laughs. And maybe it can become a regular thing.
And for every candidate kind enough to be running in Tuesday’s election, win or lose, your drinks are on me. It’s the least I can do for the gift you’re giving us all.
Michael Fanuele
616 Francis St.