When I was seven years old, Ronald Reagan became President of the United States. I remember going to school on a cold New Hampshire January morning and being told we would not have our regular class because we were going to see the presidential inauguration. I wasn't quite sure what an inauguration was, but the idea of watching television at school seemed pretty good to me.
At the time, New Hampshire was a solidly Republican state, and one of the 40 that had gone for Reagan over Carter in the 1980 election. There was no controversy over the idea that kids should listen to a speech by the president, not because New Hampshire was a Republican state, but because it was an American state and this was an American president. It seemed perfectly normal to put the kids in front of the tv in that circumstance.
While New Hampshire in 1981 was a very red state, I lived in a very blue household. The fact that my Dad quietly voted for Ronald Reagan didn't compare to the fervor with which my mother worked for Jimmy Carter's reelection. She voted for every single Democratic nominee from LBJ to Bill Clinton. In her lifetime, she voted for exactly one Republican, for governor of Louisiana in 1991, and only because I was working for him. A more dedicated member of the Democratic Party did not exist. As a small child, I didn't understand the antipathy adults had toward certain political figures. I certainly couldn't grasp the complexities of politics. I only understood that my mother was no fan of Ronald Reagan.
Two months after the inauguration, on March 30, 1981, President Reagan was shot. In the hours that followed the shooting, with no definitive word on the president's condition, I found myself confused by my mother's reaction. Why was she upset? I thought Reagan was "bad"?
When I expressed this opinion, I was told in no uncertain terms that whatever party Reagan belonged to, he was still our president. It was explained to me that while she didn't agree with his policies, he still deserved respect and certainly didn't deserve to be shot.
Looking back, I realize now that it would never have occurred to my mother to keep me home from school in order to prevent me from listening to a speech by President Reagan, or any president. She fiercely guarded my well being. But she was guided by a sense of patriotism, not partisanship.
