A Rough Chapter

I’m not exactly sure how to express my feelings. This isn’t one of those touchy-feely kind of situations. It’s just that I honestly am not sure what sort of word or phrase would accurately describe the feeling in my chest. Whatever the feeling, it quickly spread to my mouth, which was grinning broadly.
I received a phone call Tuesday morning. This was an Elder I’ve gotten to know over the last few years, usually up in Portland at the satellite office. I’d also gotten to chat with her at the Chinook’s plankhouse in January. She had the same camera I like to carry around at events, the Canon IS S2, which is special because there are lenses, zoom and wide-angle, that one can affix to the front. Her reasons for calling me were very simple: Whether she had read it in the official minutes or had heard through the grapevine I don’t know, but she was letting me know that it was she who had spoken with a certain individual back in August regarding one of my campaign letters. She had signed my letter in support, and was never coerced, forced, pressured or anything like that. This Elder has always liked me and taken in interest in my young Council career. She wouldn’t need to be forced to sign for me. And, she added, she would be very sure to call this individual who had raised the issue a little more than a month ago at a Wednesday night Council meeting. In fact, this Elder informed me, she would be making that call as soon as our own phone conversation here ended. That is what brought a smile to my face.
For those not familiar with the issue, it does go back to early September, the Council meeting on the 5th to be exact. There have been a number of people during my three years on Council who seem to have a hobby of trying to make me and others miserable. This individual in particular ran for the Council the same year I was elected, and lost. Whether she took the defeat personally or is just an unhappy person I don’t really know, but in my observations whenever she shows up for a meeting a lot of the time it is to take potshots or raise some sort of issue that makes me or somebody else look bad.
Overall I am lucky enough to be one of those people who isn’t offended very easily. I’d like to chalk it up to mental toughness or something like that, but the reality is I think differently from most people and thus insults and personal attacks don’t always register the way they should.
What happened September 5th caught me off-guard, and I even admitted to those present that this upset me quite a bit. Basically, the individual in question brought one of my campaign letters, and during the Other Business portion of the Council meeting let me know that she had spoken with a Tribal Elder whose signature appeared on a list of supporters. Supposedly this Elder had been coerced into endorsing me, at some sort of cultural class, in theory under an obligation to support the Tribal Chair.
Now after a term on Council you get used to attacks. And the nature of Tribal politics means that there will always be people who question your honor. But for some reason this particular attack bothered me, not only because it was just so clearly false, but served no other purpose than to try and make me look bad. Plus, an Elder who I really like and joke around with a lot was dragged into it, unnecessarily.
I questioned the claim that night, and was met with the typical “Are you calling me a liar?”. I also asked for the Elder’s name, but was told she preferred not disclose it. So basically I was being accused of having coerced an Elder into signing one of my campaign letters, would not be told who the Elder was, and was being made out to be some sort of scoundrel in public. I think a lot of people would have probably been upset by it.
It’s all moot now. If the whole ploy was some last ditch effort to ruin my re-election bid it obviously didn’t work. And the phone call Tuesday closed the door on my wondering which Tribal Elder had been spoken to. I make jokes about it now with staff and other Council members. If we ever need some sort of signature just have Chris send his signature-gathering goons out. We also joke about the event in question, with images of me grabbing somebody by the back of their neck and gritting my teeth and saying “Sign it! Or else!”, and then I shake my fist in their face.
So what was a very upsetting one month ago has become something I and others can joke about. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t a low blow, one of the lowest I’ve seen to be honest. That’s part of the job I suppose. That’s why I was smiling Tuesday. Truth really is stranger than fiction.