And just like that the Democrats have elevated teaching, step-parenting, storytelling, music, and getting your start at McDonald’s.
In a divided nation, maybe positivity is the answer.
It certainly stands out as being different in the political arena. And it certainly seems to be gaining momentum.
Unlike the snooze fests that most political assemblies can be, the Democratic National Convention has been fun to watch. The stories, the revelry, the playlist.
One question hounds me: Is it OK to feel this good about politics? I’m so used to being beaten down, chewed up, exhausted. Anger and cruelty have been the hallmarks of much of the media’s political coverage. I can’t tell you how many I’ve turned the channel because I simply could no longer watch certain leaders verbally abuse women, veterans, the disabled or the aging.
By contrast, I’m recording the DNC so I can watch it again and again.
As my mother used to say, “You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.”
The great Maya Angelou, of course, said it best: “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
Does it mean they’ll vote for you? Of course not. But running a campaign that’s positive and uplifting is proving to be a momentum-building tumbleweed for the Kamala Harris-Tim Walz camp.
I live in the southwest suburbs of Chicago and I could almost feel the aftershocks coming out of the United Center.
Anyone who reviews movies, analyzes sports or likes to pick apart people (looking at you, DT) knows it’s so much easier to be hypercritical than it is to be positive.
Being optimistic can make you look simple, sing-songy, naïve. But this nation has been through the ringer. Being mean seems to be the Republicans’ only objective.
In times like these, a little joy goes a long way.
Showing support for teachers is hardly a new affection. And a lot of people praise step-parents and the difficult role they step into. But, now, perhaps for the first time in a long time, leaders are singing the praises of humble beginnings.
And that is something I know a bit about.
I landed my first job at 15 via a work permit. It was the price a kid with career aspirations had to pay for growing up in a working-class family. You had to work, as soon as you could and as often as you could.
I was quickly fired, thanks to a skirmish between my dad and my boss over labor laws. Of course, my father was right but I fretted that a huge red mark had defiled my permanent record and that I’d never “work in this town again.”
But at 16, I landed a job at a new McDonald’s. I was giddy, and determined to be the best worker ever.
For two years, I busted my butt, taking as many hours as they would give me. I even graduated from high school a semester early so I could work full time serving up griddle cakes and McMuffins.
True to the short-sighted sensibilities of a teen, I figured once I got to the university, I’d never have to do such humbling work again.
Ha. The first thing I did when I came home for Christmas break was sheepishly call my former manager and ask if there were any available shifts. I’d been a good worker, and he obliged.
For a self-conscious young adult, boxing up fries, hauling trash to the dumpster and wearing a ridiculous cap was embarrassing. I’d proven myself to be university material. Wasn’t I deserving of more impressive work?
I kept telling myself it was temporary but I often wondered if college would prove to be worth it, if the promise of future success was indeed worth the price of present-day sacrifice.
That hard-learned humility would serve me again and again throughout my lifetime.
We all endure challenging times when we have to set aside ego and pride in the interest of reaching a greater goal. Sometimes the sacrifice is momentary, sometimes it lasts all four years of your college education.
When I landed my first newspaper job just three months after graduation, I was on top of the world. My hard work had paid off. My dream was unfolding.
Vice president, and now Democratic presidential candidate, Kamala Harris got her start at McDonald’s. So did her husband, Doug Emhoff. So did Amazon founder Jeff Bezos, and Lin-Manuel Miranda, Jay Leno and Carl Lewis.
All of these highly successful people credit the burger franchise with helping instill valuable work and life skills. For me, those would be perseverance, courtesy, teamwork and, of course, how to quickly make change.
But the greatest lesson I gleaned from dressing burgers, salting fries and ringing up customers for minimum wage was that no job is beneath me and that the satisfaction that comes from knowing you worked hard and did your best can be just as restorative as actually reaching the goal.
It was not easy. It was not always fun. But it was the right path for me.
The experience cracked the door on what turned out to be my dream job.
I still had to work hard and keep believing, but I had acquired the skills to do that.
Thanks to the humbling position that came with supersized benefits.
Donna Vickroy is an award-winning reporter, editor and columnist who worked for the Daily Southtown for 38 years. She can be reached at donnavickroy4@gmail.com.
