San Diego Magazine / December 2002 / Through a Political Looking Glass

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Through a Political Looking Glass

(page 1 of 2)

Christmas 2000 was nearing, but instead of wondering what gifts to buy, I spent the season wondering whether I should run for San Diego City Council. After years of involvement in local government—never as a candidate—the decisive moment arrived. My own council district would be open in the 2002 election (due to term limits), and it was now or never.

I contemplated the basics. You need endorsements—I already knew most of the key people in local politics. You need to raise money—I thought I knew who traditionally gave in local races, and I was sure I could muster enough to compete. You need to know the issues and the community—with 15 years of involvement, I knew I was better qualified than anyone else rumored to be running. That left hard work—I had volunteered in enough other campaigns to believe I knew what I was getting into. I convinced myself this race could be won.

So began the strangest year of my life. After 14 months, I finished third in a seven-man field. And I remain amazed at my naiveté. My campaign volunteers and I worked incredibly hard, knocking on thousands of doors. I spent countless hours mailing solicitations for contributions, phoning or directly asking for money. I began the year by approaching key business, community and political leaders for their support, and believed I had solid backing from many of them. With others, I had supported their candidates or issues over the years without asking for anything in return, and assumed I would have their help when the time came. A mistake.

Everyone I met during the process asked me how the campaign was going. The analogy I used was Alice in Through the Looking Glass. I came to understand that the difference between every other role in a political campaign and being The Candidate is like stepping through Alice’s mirror. The emotional and physical roller coaster can only be appreciated once you have passed through to the other world.

In that other world, you know the intoxication of applause after a campaign speech. The absolute high of opening the mail and finding enough checks to continue the fight. The joy of seeing your name in print and feeling your voice is being heard on issues.

You also know the lows of opening the mail and seeing your opponents smear your record. Of total strangers calling you on the telephone and yelling at you. Of calls to potential supporters that are never returned.

All of these experiences can come in the same day—often day after day.