On election day, 1984, my fourth grade teacher decided to have a mock election in class. She wrote two names on the board, Walter Mondale, and Ronald Reagan. My parents being the die hard democrats they are, I was rooting for Mondale. (I mean come on, wouldn't it be cool to get a woman as a vice president, or dare I say, even president sometime??) I started to copy his name off the board when the boy sitting in front of me turned around and looked at my paper. "You're voting for Mondale?? Hey everyone, Katie's voting for Mondale!" he announced as if declaring that I had a highly contagious and unsightly rash. "Um... no I'm not, I just thought we had to write both names down." I replied sheepishly. I looked back down at my paper and after a momentary pause, crossed out Mondale and wrote "Reagan" in big letters.

When the teacher collected the votes and stated that it was a unanimous Reagan victory, I hung my head in shame. I couldn't believe that I had bowed to peer pressure and changed my answer. I have often thought of this moment as a childhood experience I wish I could go back and do over and say, "Yeah, I'm voting for Mondale, you got a problem with that buddy?"

It took me a long time to realize that my preference for Mondale was no more an example of my own opinion than my writing Reagan on my piece of paper. All I knew was that was the candidate my parents preferred. It wasn't until I got to know some very devoted Reagan fans later in life that I realized perhaps I was wrong to want Mondale at all. Maybe, maybe not, but at least I understood that I didn't have all the information.

But I mean, we were 9 years old for goodness sake. Who asks a bunch of 9 year olds who they want for president?  ¶ 5:21 PM