Vote me

If you’re going to blog on Election Day, you better blog about the election, right?

It’s what’s trending. It’s what people are talking about. It’s what’s relevant.

No one wants to read blogs about somebody’s else’s kid on Election Day.

But just in case you’re someone who, like I am, is still in denial about the fact that today Americans vote to re-elect or elect a new president, here is a light and fluffy election-related, but unrelated post from your favorite (or second favorite) Israeli immigrant blogger.

A few weeks ago, my 9 year old immigrant son did something extraordinary. He ran for class representative in the 4th grade.

This would have been only somewhat extraordinary when we lived in the U.S. — my oldest has always been a friendly and confident kid, but nonetheless, I would have been impressed with any one of my children placing their names on a ballot, the results of which would label him a winner or a loser (at least among his peers).

Who does that? Who sets themselves up for that?

But, even more extraordinary is that my kid, the nine year old who has been in this country and part of this school communuity not quite two years, decided to run.

Part of the requirements included a speech in front of the class on why they should elect him.

In Hebrew.

I am so amazed by my children sometimes.

Truly a-mazed.

The kid didn’t even tell us he gave a speech until after the fact. He worked the speech up himself and gave it — off the cuff.

(I think he promised them a really fun year… and maybe some candy.)

People often ask me about the impacts of aliyah on my children. I know much of our happiness here has to do with how happy our kids are, so I often feel very grateful when I tell them our kids are doing beautifully.

They’ve learned the language. They’ve made friends. They even dare to throw their hats into rings.

My son — who ran against 7 other kids — did not win one of the two representative seats from his class.

He was disappointed. And, honestly, so were we.

My immediate thoughts were panic and guilt — “Wait! He was so popular when we lived in America. Did we drastically hurt his popularity by dragging him to Israel? Did we screw him up forever?!?”

Then I realized, “That’s not the point.”

The biggest accomplishment would not have been in winning. We already know this kid makes friends easily.

The accomplishment was that he ran at all.

And, for the first time ever, I felt the truth in the classic, yet typically ineffective cliche, “It doesn’t matter if you win or lose; it’s how you play the game.”