How we managed a middle school election win (and loss) on the same day

For weeks, my house was abuzz with the excitement around the student government election both my middle schoolers are involved in. My son was running for 6th grade president and my daughter, an 8th grader, for student body president. 

For my son, the stakes are pretty low. True to personality he told us, “I’m running for 6th grade president.” “How did that come about?”, we asked. “I just turned to the kid next to me and said, Let’s run together, I’ll be president.” Couldn’t be simpler. 

For my daughter, there have been countless conversations about political strategy with us, with her friends and with other adults in her life. She had a game plan for asking for campaigning (don’t be thirsty but be brave is the gist of it). She evaluated each candidate by popularity level, perceived popularity levels and their possible elementary school ties. Quite complicated. 

Cutting straight to the end of the story. He won. She lost. 

And in that moment, one of my kids was celebrating while the other was grieving. 

The loss is devastating to her because it has thrown her off the expected path of how the rest of middle school would go. Several years ago, she set her sights on being the student body president with one true goal in mind: to give a speech at graduation. She wanted this so much that I could taste it from across the room. 

Yesterday was one of those parenting days where you have to decide at the outset the way you’ll react even though you suspect the sky will fall right in. And when it does, you have to stay course. It’s so hard, this is the worst part of being a parent, to separate yourself from their dreams so that you remain a supporter no matter the outcome and they don’t also feel they disappointed you. The guilt can really pile on. 

Thursdays are in office days for me so I have to go downtown which is about as far away from my kids' school as you can get and be in the same city. I had a strong urge to blow it off and go to the school, to hug her, to congratulate him, to take them to boba and say forget school for today. But I didn’t. I took myself to the office, watched the results come in let my heart break in private and with the support of my dear friend and husband, I did nothing. At 4:00, they texted us the results and I briefly spoke to my daughter and asked her how she was. “I’m fine, I’m changing for soccer. Bye mama.” was what I got. 

There is no right way to manage these things and frequently new opportunities pop up where we have to decide what to do. Over time, we move from being there to catch them in our arms at every stumble to backing away and offering support from a further distance. Last night, after soccer, I gathered my daughter in my lap and held her as she processed the grief of her loss. I told her how proud I was that she tried something so big and that I love her. I made some jokes to get her to smile for just a few seconds. Then, we had dinner with her and chatted about the rest of the day.

For my son, the trick is to not let the loss outshine the win. When he came home from practice (big soccer day) I was right there. “Congrats, how do you feel?” I asked. “Good, excited.” He said with a big smile. I high fived him and gave a bear hug. I told him how proud I was that he tried for something so big and that I love him. I made some jokes about Mr. President and then we had dinner together and chatted about the day.