On Election Day 2012, I held a mock election in my classroom, using yellow Post-It notes as ballots. Students recorded their choices for president, folded their Post-Its, and dropped them into an empty pencil box. Obama beat Romney, 23-2, with two students abstaining. I tallied the results with a blank face, as I always do when discussing politics with students, trying to make sure my own opinions weren’t evident. I studied the Romney voters a little more carefully, wondering what motivated them, wondering how it felt to be in the minority by such a large margin. I took a closer look at the abstainers as well; were they inattentive, unmotivated, or just afraid to voice their opinion?
This year, for the first time, I may avoid the mock election. Based on classroom discussions, I can predict who will win, but I can also predict who will get in a fight at recess over it. Politics have been a hot-button issue since the first week of the school year, when one of my more outspoken students loudly pronounced, “I’m a Republican. If I could vote, I’d vote for Trump. Hillary Clinton and the Democrats scare me.” All around him, eyes got wide. The room got silent. Students looked at me to see if I would respond.
I’d wager that few of his classmates know the difference between a Republican and a Democrat. They know that Mrs. Clinton will be the first female president if she wins, and a few know that her husband was once president, but no one can articulate a policy or accomplishment of hers. They are much more vocal about Mr. Trump, however; they know he’s the man who wants to build the wall. In a classroom on the border, a class made up of immigrants and children of immigrants, a class in which at least three children have deported parents, that’s a big deal. They perceive Trump as racist and biased against the poor. More than one student has gleefully whacked a Trump piñata at family parties.
The tiny Trump supporter, a minority among his peers, is bright, confident, and informed. He can discuss his views on PETA, the military, and taxes with ease. He often comes in eager to discuss whatever Sean Hannity said on Fox News the previous evening. Although classmates like him and admire his obvious intelligence, sense of humor, and artistic ability, they are taken aback by his vociferous support for a man who they see as hating them. I stay quiet, intervening only when voices are raised.
I have wrestled mightily with managing political discourse this year. Generally the only topics I refuse to address are God, Santa Claus, and where babies come from, telling students those are conversations best left to their parents. However, after several heated discussions, I seriously debated declaring the presidential election off-limits. A lovely class that gets along well was beginning to fray around the seams whenever the subject arose, and I didn’t want to open the door to more conflict.
American history is a 5th grade standard, however, and current events belong in the classroom, especially in a year like this one. I took a deep breath and announced the guidelines. “The election is in November, but we’re family until June. We cannot allow political differences to destroy relationships.
“Therefore, if you wish to discuss the election, you may not use the word ‘hate’ about a candidate or his/her policies. You many not use the word ‘dumb’ or any of its synonyms in any language to describe a candidate or any of his /her supporters. If you make accusations, be prepared to back them up with textual proof.
“Above all, remember we’re family until June, the results of the school board election affect your daily life far more than who’s president, and no matter who wins, I’m still the benevolent dictator in here.” The students giggled nervously, casting sideways glances at their young Republican friend.
Feeling his classmates’ eyes upon him, he took a deep breath. “I appreciate you guys not hammering me too harshly on my views. I don’t want us to fight about politics.” His words continued tumbling out in a rush, “I mean, we are all the same race, the human race. I guess we can use that as a starting point.”
I hadn’t realized so many students were holding their breath until they let out a collective sigh of relief. Disaster had been averted, for the present moment.
As we get closer to Nov. 8, as students watch debates and read comments on social media, I expect tempers to rise again. For the moment, at least, I’ve wrested a commitment from my students to value relationships over politics.
Still, I think I’ll skip the mock election this year, just in case.
