Hadassah

debate

The lights dimmed, and the debate hall filled with murmurs as the two candidates—Harrison Butker and Travis Kelce—took the stage. Kamala Harris had just stepped down, and somehow, Dad (Harrison Butker) was up there facing off against Papa (Travis Kelce). I couldn’t believe it was happening.

The moderator kicked things off. “Tonight, we’ll cover key issues. We’ll start with immigration. Mr. Butker, your thoughts?”

Dad cleared his throat, gripping the sides of his podium. “Look, they’re eating the dogs, they’re eating the cats! We need stricter control. We’re losing what it means to be American.”

The audience shifted uncomfortably, and I could hear people whispering. He was going hard, but his words felt… off, even to me.

Papa, standing cool as ever, leaned into his microphone. “So, Harrison, let me make this clear. You’re saying we turn people away just because they’re different? Because they come here seeking a better life?” His words rang with calm conviction.

The moderator interrupted, “Thank you, Mr. Kelce. Now, moving to the economy. Mr. Kelce, you first.”

Papa nodded. “We’re facing huge gaps between the rich and the struggling families out there. We need affordable housing, better-paying jobs, and education opportunities. I believe we can support hardworking families without leaving anyone behind.”

Dad’s eyes narrowed as he prepared his rebuttal. “This economy can’t keep handing out freebies. We need to stop depending on government aid. People need to get up and work—no excuses. That’s real strength.” His voice was sharp, even defiant.

Papa shook his head, stepping in again. “Working-class Americans are out there every day, doing all they can. Supporting them isn’t a handout; it’s a responsibility.”

Then, the moderator brought up the final topic, one everyone was tense about. “Let’s talk reproductive rights. Mr. Butker?”

Dad straightened up, his voice steady. “We have to protect life at all costs. That means a total abortion ban. We’re preserving morals, family values, and—”

Papa cut him off, leaning forward. “So let me ask you, Harrison. What if Hadassah was assaulted and needed an abortion to move on from that trauma? What if it was banned? What then?”

The room went silent. Dad’s face froze, his mouth opened to say something, but he just stood there, completely at a loss.

The moderator had to move on, but everyone in the audience felt the weight of that question

Papa looked calm, but there was a fire in his eyes that I’d only seen a few times before.

The moderator, adjusting his glasses, tried to make this better with the  next question. "Let's begin with education reform. Mr. Butker, your stance?"

Dad cleared his throat, leaning into the microphone. "Our school systems have been overrun by radical ideas, pushing kids further from American values. We need to return to basic learning: math, science, history—not whatever ideological nonsense they’re slipping into classrooms these days."

I watched Papa, who kept his face carefully neutral, then he stepped up. "Look, our kids deserve a full education that prepares them for the world, not just part of it. That includes learning to be compassionate, open-minded, and well-informed. We can’t shy away from progress just because it feels new."

A few people clapped, but Dad’s supporters stayed silent.

The moderator moved on. “Let’s discuss climate change.”

Dad gave a dismissive smile. "Climate change? The biggest ‘crisis’ we’ve got is jobs being outsourced and our economy being drained by foreign interests. We need energy independence, not more restrictions that hurt American workers."

Papa cut in, “Climate change isn’t about politics—it’s about survival. Look around at the fires, the floods. This is the future if we don’t take real action. We can protect jobs and the environment; it's not an either-or.”

The room murmured as the two of them exchanged a hard look. I couldn’t tell if they were more competitors or two sides of the same family at that moment.

“Moving on,” the moderator said, clearly uneasy. “Healthcare.”

Dad didn’t miss a beat. “Healthcare is a privilege, not a right. We need people taking responsibility for their own choices, not looking to the government for handouts.”

Papa shook his head, his voice rising just slightly. “We’re the richest country in the world, and people shouldn’t go bankrupt because they got sick. Healthcare should be a right, especially for our children and our elders.”

I felt a little swell of pride as people applauded. Papa wasn’t just speaking for himself; he was speaking for people like me, and that meant something.

Then the moderator looked uncomfortable, but he pressed on to the most heated question. “Alright, the last topic: women’s rights.”

Dad’s face hardened, his voice lowering. “We need to protect the family, and that means putting limits on reckless choices. Life is precious, and we can’t just allow—”

Papa interrupted, his voice sharp. “What if that ‘choice’ is Hadassah’s?” He glanced toward me, his expression fierce. “What if she found herself in a situation where her health, her future, her life were at stake, and there was no option? This isn’t about politics; it’s about humanity.”

Dad looked down, his mouth opening and closing as if he was struggling to find words. For the first time, I saw a flicker of doubt cross his face, and he glanced my way, maybe realizing what Papa had been saying all along.

The moderator cleared his throat, clearly ready to wrap up. “Thank you. Let’s hear your closing statements.”

Dad took a deep breath, forcing a smile. “I’m here because I believe in a strong America—one rooted in tradition and values. We’re losing sight of that, but with me in office, I’ll restore the foundation this country was built on.”

He received some applause, but it felt uneasy, as though even his supporters were questioning things.

Then Papa stepped up. “We’re a nation of different backgrounds and beliefs. Caring for each other, building a future where everyone feels safe, valued, and free to live their lives—that’s my America. That’s why I’m here.”

This time, the applause swelled, a wave of support that filled the room.

As we left that night, Dad was quiet. He seemed smaller somehow, lost in his thoughts. And Papa? He just put his arm around me, and I knew he was still fighting—for me, for us, for a future that felt like home.