I’ve become increasingly interested in the political process.
The campaigning, the backstabbing, the popularity contests, the PR schemes–it’s all kind of addicting to watch, like a red vs. blue game of rugby.
But a look through an old journal reminded me that this interest in politics is not new.
In fourth grade, nearly 11 years ago, I wrote a journal entry telling my teacher about my desire to be president.
“If I were president, I would make peace in the world. I would stop the war in Israel. I would be the first woman and Jewish president. I would answer letters myself. I would say, ‘People under 21 can’t smoke, and alcohol can be sold only to adults.’ I would start clean-up committees and only policemen could own guns. I would donate lots of money to the children’s hospital, because if there are no children, there is no future. I would help clean up graffiti. I would send old clothes to the poor, and food and toys, too. Every child should have the proper education, and there should be a school for poor kids. But I wouldn’t really want to be president. I want my kids to have a normal life.”
While my life has taken a slightly different turn since then, I do think the fourth-grade me would have made a pretty cool president.