The Same River, Twice

When I first ran for Council five years ago, back in 2002, writing the campaign letters and the candidate’s statements were what appealed to me the most. That might be because I’ve always enjoyed writing, and more importantly, being creative. In hindsight, trying to come up with something original and striking was the challenge I relished most every year. There was something about trying to get your point across and scoring style points in the process that I considered an especially lofty goal.
To this day, a few times a year, I am reminded by people of the risks taken by those. In an odd sort of triumph, I realized my letters and statements stood out. Conversely, my point wasn’t always clear, and even as early as yesterday I was advised not to write anything that would “go over people’s heads”. Quite honestly, nothing I ever wrote ever struck me as being too hard to understand. But of course, most people understand their creations. Why else would they have created them?
In 2004, a Tribal Elder attempted to contact me. In finally returning her call, she explained the progression of her opinion of me. She was impressed by my first letter, which was meant to be inspiring. My second letter, the famous or infamous “letter to the president” caused her distress, since she actually believed I had mailed it to George W. Bush. By the time my candidate’s statement in the “Smoke Signals” hit her, she had, in her owns words “thought you’d gone crazy”. For those of you who might remember my statement then was a fictional dialog between myself and two Tribal members that somehow made references to Iron Chef and “The Lord of the Rings”.
“Please,” she begged me. “Leave the humor to others”.
Of course in 2003, my candidate’s statement, during the election at least, drew plenty of positive comments. One elder told me she “absolutely loved it”. Another told me they considered it “brilliant”. Even one person, whom nobody would believe I revealed now, made a point to let me know he considered it “a great piece of writing”. I was proud of myself. Naturally, I wasn’t elected that year, just missing Jan Denton Reibach by 42 votes. It was in the post-election world that I was to learn that many people were perplexed or confused by what my statement had said. It was an allegory of a young student scouring the ruins of a former notable tribe, wherein I made some thinly disguised predictions. There was a vivid reference to the annual ritual that takes place in Central America with migrating turtles who fall prey to predators at they hatch and scamper from shore to water. Like a year later, I was told it appeared I had “lost my mind”, and one tribal member, trying to get a rise out of me in the lobby of Spirit Mountain Casino months later, said my statement to him signaled drug-use. To this day I am still reminded of my Guatemalan turtles.
The hard lesson I would learn is that while people may appreciate some risks and innovation in campaign literature, in doing so a candidate runs a real risk of losing his audience, potential voters. If there were ever a fine line to not cross, this is it. On the other hand, I still get a sense of satisfaction in being non-conformist, of being able, like Frank Sinatra, to do it “my way”.
I haven’t written my first campaign letter, yet. For as much as I love the internet and the multiple Tribal websites we have at our disposal today, the reality is print media and mail are still where you reach the greatest number of Tribal members.
The reason I am sitting here writing in my blog, instead of working on that all-important first letter, is because sometimes the well of inspiration runs low. This time, too, I am dealing with a new dynamic, incumbency. In my three previous elections I had never had to deal with that before. Like I wrote in the second letter of my 2003 campaign, you can never step in the same river twice, because the waters are different. It’s not the same river. In other words, even now I don’t know what I’ll write. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.