Top 10 - Diversity
Vidhi Patel has spent a large part of her childhood immersed in the world of politics. Now, after graduating from medical school and becoming a pediatrician, she has to make life-changing decisions. Get married and go down the pat...
As I sat in a chair in the wings of the stage, my anxiety kicked up a notch, thinking of how much recent material the moderators now had with which to hammer me down with. Wringing out my hands repeatedly, I reached into my blazer pockets to find a mini fidget cube, decorated with all my best friends' initials and a note from Helena.
Reading the note, I was transported to our high school chorus classes together, where I would bounce my leg rapidly and Helena would sneak a fidget cube into my hand. Smiling to myself at the flood of memories that hit me, I nearly missed the stage direction to get to our places before the announcers called us on.
Still fidgeting with the cube in my left pocket, I rose and walked to my podium, shifting into PR control and policy defense mode. Plastering a mildly evil smile on my face, I prepped my opening statement and waited for the personal attacks based on the recently revealed documents.
"Why vote for the mentally unstable candidate when you can vote for the white picket fence candidate?" He ended, making me internally angry, but externally, I was the definition of collected.
As the timer for my statement began, I started with my personal and political defense.
"Thank you. Firstly, I would like to use this time to further address the comments regarding my mental health, stability, and pre-campaign hospitalization." Looking into the camera, I said firmly,
"I have recently come to terms with my high functioning depression, otherwise known as "smiling depression" and dysthymia. Though this realization came after a dark period, it does not make me less fit to serve as the Commander-in-Chief or the Head of State. I have been cleared for all duties and responsibilities campaigning require as well as those that fall under being the President, should I be so fortunate to be elected by the American people. I am not mentally unstable or a crazy person."
"I am an ambitious human as you and the person to both sides of you are. I may not have the old-time American dream of a white picket fence, 2.5 kids, and a husband, but I have a dream as an American as I'm sure all of you do. And maybe not every single one of your dreams fills the classic American dream, but that's okay. Because it is your American dream and my job will not be to only help guide the fulfillment of the white picket fence, but also the first generation college graduate, the living wage, but every American dream."
Applause erupted from the audience and even my usually well-composed opponent clearly looked sheepish at his earlier statement.
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After the debate, Terrence, Helena, and Anjali conveyed their congratulations on my passionate response that was now being circulated across mainstream media sources and being dissected by analysts. As we exited the premises, the clamor of reporters and their camera crews broke the temporary mental calm that had favored us for those few minutes.
"Vidhi, what are your thoughts on your childhood as the daughter of immigrants?"
"Dr. Patel, are you using the depression card as a way to connect with the population that does suffer from mental problems?"
As the questions grew in obnoxiousness, just like the fluttering clicks of the cameras, I grew more annoyed and more covered by security personnel. By the time we reached the cars, I couldn't see past the blockade of security between the press and the campaign team. With a heavy sigh, I entered the car and my team followed suit, filling this car up to the brim before filing into the one behind us.
When we had finally settled down and the cars began to move, I rested my head on Helena's shoulder, the mental exhaustion catching up to my lead-weighted bones and angry feet.
As my eyes began to close, Helena shook me awake and directed my attention to Terrence. Terrence smiled broadly before shifting over and bringing out a small, round cake, with the 3 and 7 candles announcing my age. Tilting my head, I looked at them quizzically until the date set in.
Oh I had turned 37 years old today! Wow, the campaign trail truly is ruthless. Lighting the two candles, they all sang Happy Birthday before I blew them out.
I probably wished for more things than possible with one birthday wish, but it was the thought that counted.
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