Proud Moments

I don't want to brag, and I know it's not polite, but I am excited to report that my son Dylan is running for class president of the first 8th grade class at the new Mabank Junior High.

The election is next Monday and there are all sorts of rules about what the candidates must do, can't do, as well as what the job, if you are elected, of class president entails. I had to read about six pages of information and sign off on this effort, which it turns out does involve a little work.

What you must understand is that Dylan is not the type of kid you would imagine would run for president. His vice president, his best friend Jeremy, probably is. When Dylan told me about this in his "oh by the way" way on Sunday night, and handed me the packet to sign, I was pretty shocked. Especially because there are a lot of candidates, and almost all his friends have paired up in teams. They are all running against each other. They are into it. This is pretty cool. They might actually LEARN something that won't be on "the test!"

After reading into the packet of rules and requirements, I noticed the part about the three posters needed on Monday. (It was after 10 on Sunday night.) "Who's making your posters?" (they need three). "Jeremy," Dylan said. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Do you realize you have to make a speech?" "Yes." "What are you going to say?" "I don't know." The publicist and campaign manager in me began to get nervous. We only have a week my subconscious worried as it quickly compiled some good key messages, while my wiser "this is your kid not your client" side took charge.

Wise Mom stifled my concerns and I went to bed Sunday night proud, and at the same time wondering if Dylan had any idea what he was getting himself into. My subconscious started working on a tagline or campaign slogan... and worrying about the work that was to be done...

At 7 a.m. on Monday my phone rang. It was Jeremy's mom, who I must say, like me, is an over-achiever. As president of the local bank, she's one smart cookie, as is her son, my son's running mate, who also is a kid I've known since they were both four. Dylan was already at football. "Jeremy is sick, and I have this poster here," she said. "But we didn't read the information until late last night and we only have one done." The campaign manager in me took over. "That's fine," I said. "Don't worry about it." We arranged for me to pick up the one poster at the bank , and I would take it to the school for Dylan. Of course the publicist in me and the "detail gal" was concerned about the lack of posters, and because this is an agency and I have all the "stuff," I spent a little time after doing some work and made a second poster for Dylan and Jeremy. I had the stuff to make another one, but I had real work to do too. I drove to the bank, delivered the posters to the junior high, and got back to work.

The kids' first campaign meeting was held after school, and Dylan came home last night very excited about the campaign process, what they could do, etc. It was good to see his enthusiasm. Later his friend Stephen came over. Stephen is running as the VP on another ticket. We jointly discussed strategy, and I listened for any insight I could about what he and his running mate were doing. Stephen had gone to the dentist and missed the meeting, so he didn't know what their posters were like, what they were planning to do, nothing. He may have been faking ignorance -- a good strategy. I made a mental note to pick his brain the next day.

Last night around 9:30 Dylan came into my office. "Mom, can we make me a t-shirt and some buttons?" The designer in me -- the one who gets excited about "rush" jobs sprang into action, and because this is an agency, I had all the stuff. So we designed a logo, made a transfer, and ironed it on a t-shirt that he had found in his dad's closet. We also made some buttons using the laminating machine, and some stickers. It was nearly midnight when we went to bed.

Of course this morning he wasn't happy with how big the shirt we had made is, so he found another one in his closet, we quickly printed another transfer and made him a new shirt. Oh my God, what a prima donna...candidates...they are all the same. He wore his new shirt to school today, and although the transfer is not as crisp as the one on the big shirt, it's okay for 8th grade. He'll get the campaign started.

So it's only Day 2 of the campaign, and the election is next Monday. I have no idea how much more time this is going to take. There's still the speech and the election process itself. There is the campaigning ("Give the stickers to the 7th grade girls and smile at them real nice and ask for their vote," I told him this morning. "Focusing on the 7th graders takes care of the problem caused by all your friends running and splitting the vote," I pointed out.

There is still the debate for You Tube, and maybe a web site. But for the most part, his work is done. Best of all they really could ALL learn something.

Of course I'm going to continue to stay out of it. I have no intention of getting involved. This is not my project. It's my son's.