Sarah Palin - Just Another Disappointment

It is now scant weeks before Election Day, and I am growing more concerned about my continued inability to decide between the two candidates. This has never happened to me before. As a loyal, moderate female Republican, I have never strayed when voting, even when the Republican candidate was not particularly appealing (look how well that strategy has paid off for the country; my apologies, America.)

But this campaign, as anyone will tell you, has been different than any other, with both parties poised to make history through a victory at the polls. We will have, for the first time, either an African American president, or a woman vice president. One might think that, as a loyal female Republican voter, my decision would be simple. The Republicans nominated a female vice presidential candidate; one might think that I, and voters like me, would be ecstatic. But I am not, and I am trying desperately to understand why, in the hopes that it will help me finally make a wise, and better-informed decision than that of simply voting with my party.

As the Democratic primaries raged on, I watched the female supporters of Hillary Clinton with something akin to envy. How energized they were, how enthusiastic, how hopeful, that at last, the ultimate in glass ceilings would be shattered. Although I was not a Democrat, and was no fan of Hillary Clinton, there was a small feminist spark in me that was rooting for her all along, even as I knew that I could never have voted for her myself. But there was something so exciting inhabiting that possibility! When she finally conceded to Obama, I was relieved that Hillary would not be the One; but I despaired at the possibility of another One joining the fray any time in the immediate future. I felt like women’s hopes had been dashed, yet again.

Right up until the Republican convention, John McCain had my (lukewarm) support. I was riding the wagon train of party loyalty then, and already knew I would vote for McCain because I was a faithful Republican. I had, in fact, backed McCain against George W. Bush in the 2000 primaries, so I felt comfortable with him, though not very excited. I had already made and accepted my decision, yet strangely, I continued to watch the Obama "revolution" with that same twinge of envy.

And then came Sarah Palin! I watched her speech at the convention and felt the hope, the ridiculous enthusiasm, start to well up in me like a nervous giggle. Here was a woman I felt I could support! What a contrast to Hillary Clinton she seemed: spontaneous, not rehearsed; feisty, not cool; adventurous, not calculated; committed, not ambitious; feminine, not feminist; happy in her role as wife and mother, not striving and grasping to surmount it; an ingenue outsider, fresh, not jaded; smart, but not condescending. She was everything, it seemed, that Hillary had not appeared to be. I watched her at the podium that night, and fancied I could see a little of myself in her. At last, I felt I could commit to giving my wholehearted support to John McCain and to his stunning choice of a running mate. I even contemplated a yard sign.

But over the past few weeks, the bloom is definitely off the rose, and it has left me aching once more for a clear-cut decision. Palin’s lines, it turned out, were extremely well rehearsed (how many more times did one have to hear the story about the plane being listed on eBay, or the rejected "Bridge to Nowhere"?), as evidenced by the news clips of her every night, wearing a different outfit, but spouting the exact same lines. Video surfaced of her shooting rifles, and stories circulated of her ability to field dress a moose. I must confess, gun control is one of the few areas where my sensibilities do diverge from that of many Republicans: I am not a fan of hunting or of gun ownership, even responsible gun ownership, so those stories of her prowess were not effective selling points for me—in fact, they were something of a turnoff.

My respect for her as a mother grew, however, as I learned more about her decision to bear her fifth child, even knowing he would be born with Down’s Syndrome. Her loving and supportive response to her young daughter’s unplanned pregnancy also won my esteem. But there are many good, loving parents out there, and their parenting skills do not necessarily make them qualified for higher office. But then, when I learned of her opposition to abortion in any situation, even incest or rape, my support wavered. I am no rabid supporter of abortion rights, but I do believe that there are situations where a woman should be allowed to make that decision for herself, without the government dictating that she can’t. Just because "life" was the right choice for the Palins’ situations, does not mean it is always the right choice for all women.

I started to think about the realities of her family life, as a governor and the mother of five children. There’s been much made of Nancy Pelosi having five children, too, but hers are grown, no longer babes-in-arms. As the parent of a child with mild special needs myself, I also started to question what the impact of her vice presidency might be on her youngest, vulnerable child. Children with special needs require extra support, above and beyond what even a full-time, stay-at-home parent can sometimes provide; how would she and her husband be able to support this child in the context of the demands of the vice presidency? I started to be torn between my own contradictory beliefs: that a woman darned well could and should be president, but that, in my private heart, I couldn’t be supportive of a woman who appeared to be putting her career ahead of the well-being of her children. I hated myself for not asking that same question of McCain or Obama or Biden, but the question arose nonetheless. My internal conflict only deepened.

Then there was Palin’s support for teaching creationism alongside the theory of evolution. I am a Christian and my faith is important to me, but I was also a public school teacher. I worked in a setting where my own personal faith and beliefs were a private matter, not something that was part of the curriculum; it disturbed me that Palin was interested in changing that.

But still, my hope of a dynamic, capable woman in office persisted: she’s just getting started, I told myself. Give her some time, get to know her a little better. I did. I watched her interviews on television, as she failed to give less than satisfying answers. I watched her debate with Biden, where she essentially failed to answer the questions being put to her, favoring instead well-rehearsed stock lines from her thoroughly prepared script. I read with dismay the decision about "Troopergate" that Palin had, indeed, been found to have committed an ethical violation through her involvement. Sadly, I watched her be lampooned and turned into a laughing stock on Saturday Night Live; it was Dan Quayle, Part Deux. Not only was the bloom off the rose, but it seemed that on a daily basis, I could actually see the petals of my hope for an easy decision wilting, drying up, and crumbling into the breeze left behind by yet another disappointing candidate.

So here I sit, marking the days off one by one on my calendar. I would say that I am back to square one, except that before McCain’s choice of Palin, I was resigned to giving McCain my support. Now, I must question his judgment in his selection of Palin as his running mate, and it pains me to do so. Did he not know her well enough? Was he just desperate to inflame the passions of Republican women voters like me, to spark an Obama-like revolution among Republican women? It worked, for a brief shining moment—until I got to know her a little better, and now I see that, in her own way, she’s even more of a disappointment than Hillary was for me. Two women candidates now, having gotten farther in politics than any other moment in history, and I couldn’t get behind either one of them. I still don’t know what I will do come Election Day, because I still think of myself as a Republican, but I am also a woman. On Election Day, I may not just be voting my loyalty, but my disappointment as well. Is Ron Paul still in the building?