Learning Politics Without Becoming a Politician

I’ve learned something about running for office that I didn’t expect. Asking people to endorse you is incredibly vulnerable.

There’s really no way around it. You’re asking another person to publicly say, “I believe in her. I trust her. I think she should have this responsibility.”

And if you’re someone who has ever wrestled with questions of worthiness or being “enough,” that can bring up some stuff. Am I qualified enough? Have I done enough? Do they believe in me? Am I seriously asking another person to publicly declare that they think I’m worthy of this?

Some days, it feels an awful lot like begging people to like me.

But as I’ve worked through that discomfort, I’ve started to realize something else. Something bigger than my own feelings.

I entered this race with a pretty simple understanding of what an endorsement meant: You learn about the candidates, decide who you believe would be best for the job, and put your name behind that person.

I’m learning that politics is more complicated than that.

There are all kinds of considerations that can go into an endorsement. Relationships matter. History matters. Party matters. Organizations have their own priorities. And sometimes, so does the perceived likelihood that a candidate will win.

Someone can think you’d be good at the job. They can even intend to vote for you. But before publicly putting their name behind you, they may want to see whether you’ve raised enough money, knocked enough doors, earned enough endorsements, built enough visibility, or otherwise demonstrated that you’re a “viable” candidate.

I understand the political logic. I’m just not sure I want to accept it as the only way politics has to work.

That realization has made me think about the other side of endorsements too. Sometimes people endorse someone because they know them. They’ve worked together. They’ve been in the same political circles. They belong to the same party. There may be years of history and trust behind that relationship.

Those relationships absolutely matter. But I think something else should matter too:

Who else is asking for the job?

I don’t want anyone to endorse me simply because they know me. I don’t want someone to vote for me just because I’m a Democrat. And I don’t want someone to put their name behind me simply because they think I’m going to win.

I want you to know who I am. And I want you to know who my opponent is.

Learn what each of us believes. Look at our records. Pay attention to how we conduct ourselves. Understand what matters to us, how we approach disagreement, what we believe this office is for, and how we intend to use the power that comes with it.

Then decide.

And if you do all of that and decide to support the other guy? I can respect that.

Because I’m realizing that this is connected to something much bigger that has been occupying my thoughts throughout this campaign.

People tell me all the time that they don’t like politics. They don’t trust politicians. They think everyone lies. They’re tired of parties fighting with each other. They’re tired of feeling like decisions are made by insiders and that regular people only matter when somebody needs their vote.

It’s one of the reasons I keep describing myself as a neighbor, not a politician.

But there’s a tension there that I’m becoming increasingly aware of. I don’t want to become a “politician” in the way so many people have come to understand that word. But I do need to learn how to be effective in politics.

I need to understand how government works. I need to know how to build coalitions, navigate disagreement, negotiate, recognize when compromise is necessary, and understand when something matters enough that I shouldn’t compromise.

I have no illusions that I’m going to walk onto the McHenry County Board and magically change political culture.

But dammit, I can try to be part of changing it.

Over the last few years, I’ve learned that changing a culture doesn’t always look like winning. Sometimes you speak up and nothing happens. Sometimes you push back and lose. Sometimes you’re the only person in the room willing to say, “Wait. Why are we doing it this way?”

Sometimes you make people uncomfortable. And sometimes the only immediate result is that people now know someone was willing to question something everyone else had accepted as normal.

Maybe somebody else notices. Maybe the next person feels a little safer speaking up. Maybe something that once seemed inevitable eventually becomes something people realize they’re allowed to question.

That may be one of the most important things I’m learning through this experience: I can learn how politics operates without accepting that this is simply the way it has to be.

That applies to endorsements. It applies to party loyalty. It applies to the way we disagree, who gets heard, the assumptions we make about people based on the letter next to their name, and the idea that political influence should belong primarily to people who already have political influence.

My approach to relational politics has three principles: connection before persuasion, curiosity before assumption, and relationship before outcome.

I’m realizing those principles have to apply even when they don’t benefit me.

Curiosity before assumption means I don’t want you to assume my opponent is the right choice because you know him. But it also means I don’t want you to assume I’m the right choice because you know me.

Relationship before outcome means I have to be willing to respect the person who genuinely does the work, reaches a different conclusion, and votes against me.

That’s democracy.

And maybe if we’re frustrated with political culture, we can’t only demand that politicians behave differently. Maybe we also have to examine some of the political habits we’ve all come to accept as normal.

I started thinking about all of this because asking people for endorsements was making me uncomfortable.

I thought I needed to get better at asking.

Instead, I think I needed to get clearer about what I was actually asking for. So if you put your name behind me, I want it to mean something.

Don’t endorse me because you’re supposed to.

Don’t endorse me because we know each other.

Don’t endorse me because of my party.

And don’t endorse me because you think I’m going to win.

Get curious.

Learn who I am. Learn who else is asking you to entrust them with this responsibility. Ask questions. Look at what we’ve done and what we say we’ll do.

Then decide who you believe should have the job.

That’s the kind of endorsement I want.

And that’s the kind of politics I want to be part of building.