My President, Right or Wrong
by Claire Zulkey

My President and I had a funny relationship up until last Tuesday. It was kind of like a surreptitious friendship between a popular high schooler and a geeky kid. (In this case, I am the popular kid, although the President has had a more active party life than I have.) The popular kid likes the geek, thinks he's interesting and funny, but the other popular kids have made it clear that it's not cool to associate with the geek. And so, up until now, I've had to like him from afar.

I have never been a political person, even as I attended Georgetown University, a school so rife with young political wannabes it almost seethes with handshakes and fake smiles. 2000 was my first election, so I didn't even take much interest in the President up until then, even through "Read My Lips," and Monica Lewinsky.

Perhaps part of the reason I didn't want to talk about politics is that I was raised by two parents who counted down the days to the end of Clinton's term along with Rush Limbaugh. I have been told enough times by Jay Leno, Jon Stewart, and everybody else out there that it's not cool to be a young conservative or Republican, and I was afraid that it had rubbed off on me, and that I would be spotted and run out of town.

Even as the new election came around, I tried to keep a low profile. Why? Because I liked George W. Bush. We didn't agree on many key policies, but the thing was that I liked him — he seemed like a good guy to hang out with. I know that's no reason to elect a governmental leader, but I couldn't help it. But admitting my affection for him would have gotten me exiled, as my friends and roommates told me about how "A vote for Bush is a vote against women," and I heard repeatedly about his gaffes and foibles.

"Shh." I told Bush. "We can be friends, but not in public, okay?"

Like I said, Bush and I disagreed on several things, and so I was convinced to vote for some other guy.

"Don't take it personally," I told Bush. In the end, I was secretly glad that he ended up in the White House.

Finally, it seems, it's acceptable for me outwardly to show my support and affection for the White House. It's too bad that these are the circumstances under which it had to happen. I support the President, and I want him to do well. Obviously, for the well-being of the country. But also, I want him to prove himself.

When I watched him yell into that bullhorn in New York, "I can hear you!" to the workers digging out from the WTC rubble, I got chills. Yes, I thought. This is what I had faith in. I hope we see more of this Bush. I hope he turns out to be like the Scarlet Pimpernel, goofing around in his spare time only to reveal a calculating, swift side that will surprise both us and our enemies.

I want Bush to prove himself. I want him to prove what he can do, to show that I wasn't wrong. I want him to prove what we can do to, so we know that we're capable of everything we think we are.

E-mail Claire Zulkey at clairezulkey@hotmail.com.