In the long ago when I was a young woman about to graduate from the University of Houston I was nominated by my professors for a prestigious award that would have named me the most likely to succeed in my future career as a teacher. I was of course quite flattered to even be considered for such an honor but I also secretly hoped to win the designation.
I donned the suit that I had purchased to wear to my job interviews and carefully applied my makeup and styled my hair on the day that I was to be interviewed for the award. I wanted to make a professional impression on the judges, but my efforts would soon be thwarted. As I walked across the campus to my destination the wind suddenly picked up and blew my hair in every possible direction. Then without warning a sprinkle of rain made my unkempt locks damp just to add to my harried appearance. As I walked into the building hoping to have time to tidy myself before the appointed hour of my interview I snagged my pantyhose on a loose screw connected to the door. Since it was anathema in those days to show bare legs with professional attire I had to hope that nobody would notice the ragged tear than ran from my knee down to my ankle.
I rushed to the ladies room to see how much damage had occurred during my journey across the campus and found my hair matted and askew. Not even my best efforts were enough to make me look more presentable and I began to feel the anxiety rising in my already nervous mind. it felt as though everything was going wrong and that I was losing control of the situation.
I had to take a deep breath and hope that I might talk my way through the questions of the judges and that they would not be superficial enough to notice how disheveled I had become. I was determined not to let four years of hard work and a reputation for excellence be undermined by last minute accidents. After all, teaching is all about being ready for the unexpected and I had already proven my muster for that during my weeks of student teaching. I felt ready even if a bit more nonplussed than I had intended to be.
There were three people sitting behind a desk and I was motioned to a chair in front of them. They were rather quiet and stern, not wishing to favor me with smiles or greetings. The business like atmosphere felt more like an inquisition than an attempt to get to know me. The butterflies inside my stomach launched with force and I realized that one of my legs was shaking. I hoped that they would not notice.
The questions that they asked took me by surprise. As I listened to my answers I knew that I was not making the impression that I had hoped to achieve. I argued with myself inside my brain wondering why I was having so much difficulty expressing my true beliefs. I am a person who revels in words and phrases. I love being a debater and speaker but somehow this venue was working against me. I understood before I even left that I had blown my chance at an award that would have opened so many doors of opportunity for me. I had not even smiled during my recitations, not even once. I felt that the judges must have been wondering why I was even nominated.
I thought of my youthful experience last week after the presidential debate in which President Joe Biden came across as weak and perhaps too old to handle the job that he has held so graciously for four years. His raspy voice and resigned manner seemed to signal that he was not ready for four more years. His answers while filled with factual evidence did not land on the target. He seemed almost overwhelmed by the entire experience. I felt his pain and recalled my own dark moment when I was somehow unable to make my responses sound reasonable. I too had been in such a place and it did not happen because I was too old or too young or somehow inept. It was just a momentary failure that occurred at the worst possible time.
I admittedly believe that both Joe Biden and Donald Trump are too old to hold the highest office in the land. I would like to have a choice between younger people, but since that is not to be, I will continue my unequivocal support for President Biden. I cannot imagine voting for a convicted felon who lies with every breath he takes and refuses to accept that he had lost the race in 2020. A bad moment in a ninety minute debate no more defines President Biden than my interview created an accurate picture of me.
I was way more than the sum of my answers to questions that somehow baffled me just as President Biden is way more than his quiet and sometimes meandering responses were in that debate. We have to look at the whole picture of individuals if we are to know them well enough to determine how they will perform in some future time. I went on to become an excellent educator. I did well wherever I worked. I was dedicated and determined to make a positive difference in the lives of my students. This is how I see President Biden as well.
Joe Biden has been a calm and thoughtful leader through some of the most difficult times in this nation. His steady hand has kept us from a recession, brought down the unemployment rate to its lowest percent since the nineteen sixties. He has regularly fought for the rights of the downtrodden and is an honest and caring man. His opponent on the other hand has fomented violence and anger while offering nothing that would benefit all people in this country. If anyone should step out of the race it should be Trump, and since he never will, then I will proudly vote for Joe Biden. I don’t want our nation or our democracy to fail and it surely will under the tyranny and ignorance of Donald Trump.
Bad moments happen to everyone. Nobody can say that they do not have a memory that they regret. Strong people confess their difficulties, pick themselves up and move forward. President Biden has already done that and he is ready to fight for all of us. I only hope that enough of our citizens will refuse to be influenced by a single moment in time.
All It Takes Is A Little Love 