It seems like every four years, I write my monthly Editor’s Note against a backdrop of political discord. This year feels a lot worse, as each side frames the election with words and heat that make it sound like we’re choosing between the future and societal collapse. I’m riveted—by turns hopeful, frightened, inspired, appalled, bewildered, and thankful for occasional decencies. I have my views, which I don’t inflict on any parents who come to New York Family for inspiration, insight, or support on the family front. But with my children, who are 16 and 12, I’m completely guilty of showing my hand, enlisting them on my side early on. Because most kids are political step-and-repeats of their parents, I find enormous fun in asking my kids who their friends are supporting because then I know where their parents stand.
You know how it goes. You grow up and you’re bound to have some friends and family who have changed sides. Or maybe you’re the rebel. I had breakfast a few days ago with one of my best friends from college, his wife, and one of his daughters, a first-year law student. I still feel a kind of transcendent affection and respect for him, so much so that I invited him to share his views on the election even though I knew it was likely that, even if we agreed on a few issues, we were ending up on opposite sides. And that turned out to be true. But the best outcome of the breakfast was that his smart and gracious daughter joined in, suggesting that she didn’t share her father’s choice, but that they had more in common that he might think. He told her, affectionately: “I wouldn’t expect you to agree with me. You’re a lot younger. We’ve had different experiences. And more importantly, I always, regardless of how I feel, want you to have your own point of view. You know that.”
I knew there’s a reason I love this guy.
But now I feel like I have to raise my children with the same heretical independence.
Enjoy the rest of summer,
Eric Messinger
Editor, [email protected]
