Jim Tauber
When I was 6 years old in 1956, my mother asked me if I would like to hand out pamphlets and pins in our neighborhood with her. After quickly saying yes because this was something new, I peppered her with questions. What were the pamphlets and pins about? Why was she doing this? She patiently explained that the election for the President of the United States was coming up and she felt very strongly about someone named Adlai Stevenson.
“Why?” I asked.
Speaking to me, in terms that a first grader could understand, Mom explained that Stevenson wanted to protect everyone’s rights, make things happen, improve education, increase the acceptance of all people, and be honest. The walk around the neighborhood was to tell people about him and convince them to vote for him. That sounded pretty good to me.
Then she pinned a campaign button on my jacket. I instinctively felt proud to be wearing this token of maturity. I trotted alongside her as we went from house to house. At each one, she explained why Stevenson was a better candidate than Eisenhower, the current President. Sometimes people were happy to hear what she had to say and
sometimes they weren’t. Regardless, my mom was very sharp, articulate and compelling. Even so, Eisenhower trounced Stevenson.
Looking back, my mother’s talent to explain her support of candidate Stevenson to both her young son and her neighbors was perfectly in keeping with who she was: an educator. Years after earning her undergraduate degree from Northwestern, she had gone back to school to attain her PhD in Education. She published articles and even appeared on a popular local television talk show hosted by Irv Kupcinent to forcefully argue against tracking in the school system. Having taught almost every grade from elementary to graduate students, she spoke from experience. (I later heard from friends who told me she had been their substitute teacher and they had nicknamed her “terrible Tauber tomato juice.” Not a particularly sophisticated sobriquet.)
Four years later my mom asked me again if I would like to campaign door to door. This time it was for John F. Kennedy. At the ripe old age of 10, I was familiar with JFK. I knew he was handsome, smart, had a beautiful wife, was Catholic and wanted to resolve the civil rights crisis with a focus on integrating schools. I also knew that Kennedy was against the Russians and communism. I knew because our basement was considered a bomb shelter, and we had food and supplies in the event we all had to stay downstairs for safety.
Our efforts at persuasion were more warmly received during this election year. Our neighbors knew Kennedy. Everybody seemed charmed by his overall package and his skills of communication. His slogan, “We Can Do Better,” seemed to resonate.
The time I spent with my mom and the lessons I learned from her and Kennedy shaped my feelings at the time and to this day. Mom strongly shared Kennedy’s belief about integration in schools, as she felt it was everyone’s right to attain the best education they could. After all, she was a committed educator.
My mother’s influence on me was powerful, and I will forever be grateful for her teaching me not only the value of an education, but more importantly that all people must have the same opportunities.
As opposed to Stevenson in ‘56, JFK won in 1960. I felt proud to have played a tiny part in the victory. I had written a letter to candidate Kennedy during the campaign, and after the election I received a letter of gratitude from him. I was beyond surprised. A letter from the President! I felt that my mom and I had actually made a difference.
I still cherish the letter. It has been a steady reminder of him and what he stood for. I am proud to have joined my mom’s canvassing. It was a sorrowful day in 8th grade when we found out at lunchtime that President Kennedy had been assassinated.
I keep both the letter from JFK and the paper from the day he was killed close at hand as a reminder of hope and the challenges that face the fight for what is right.