The iCandidate (9 page)

MICHAEL

Of course, wanting any effort to go viral takes more than just a desire to. If that were the case, every corporation, charity, student organization, and attention-seeker in America would be household names because of what people see on You Tube. While such things may work for a Marine trying to land a date with Mila Kunis, dynamite surfing, or even something called planking, the only politician anyone can remotely say it worked for was Obama in 2008. But I let the students figure out how to do it. I had a good feeling whatever they came up with would work.

“Faculty
don’t report back for another four days, Michael. I hope you’re not working on lesson plans already,” a sweet voice says from in front of me.

“
Chalice!” I get up and give her a big hug. While I am not eager for the summer to be over, I do miss seeing her and my other colleagues. “And, just for the record, I don’t believe for a second you hope I’m not working on lesson plans. How was your summer?

“Short, like always.
Yours?”

“Oh, flew
by like a movie montage.”

“Does that have something to do with following through on your ill-advised bet?” she says, grinning.

“How did you know?” I ask, mystified. Not that I should be. Chalice seems to know everything about her faculty, whether it is summer or not. I offer her the seat across from me, which she accepts.

“
Facebook, I think. Or maybe it was from some website called
The iCandidate.
”

It figures that was where she picked up on it. As the resident computer guy, Brian was the mastermind behind the digital launch of the iCandidate.
Facebook, Google Plus, Twitter, Reddit, Tumblr, and Pinterest accounts were created, as was a You Tube channel. He even created a website called
www.icandidate.org
.

Enlisting the help of some friends, they created one database to track volunteers and another to track donors, should we ever get any. If that wasn’t enough heavy lifting, he organized every tech geek in the school to create a means to host web chats, answer emails and do essentially everything else an online campaign would be expected to do. The whole effort has been run from the cozy confines of the Perkfect Buzz. Thank God I’ve been one of Laura’s best customers for years.

“I swear, nothing ever gets past you,” I tell her with a laugh.

“So you actually made it on the ballot?”

The most pressing concern following our
staff’s Briar Point meeting was getting on the ballot. It required 7,500 signatures and a completed application be submitted to the Connecticut Secretary of State. The application was the easy part. The signatures, well, not so much. Chelsea got the nod as the campaign manager, so it fell on her to organize the effort and make the magic happen.

“
Yep. I really wasn’t sure Chelsea could pull it off, but she doesn’t do anything half-way. Something she was quick to remind me of that when she slapped 7,737 signatures down in less than a week.” Lucky, because when we met in June, we only had two weeks to get everything in. We still wouldn’t have made the deadline if some administrative error hadn’t forced Connecticut to change it from the second to the fourth Tuesday in June.

“That’s impressive,” Chalice says sincerely. “What do you have the rest of them doing?”

“Well, Amanda was appointed the Minister of Campaign Finance.” While trusting a teenager with accounting responsibilities that will land a candidate in prison if they go wrong may sound insane, well, it probably is. But Amanda is a numbers girl and can tell you the balance of any of her bank accounts to the penny.

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

“She was less than thrilled when I told her donations were restricted to $100 from donors, and even more so when I placed a $10 maximum for students.”

“I can’t imagine this
virtual campaign of yours will need much money anyway. Who else?”

“I have
Emilee, Vanessa and Xavier in charge of marketing.” They are in charge of the message, which I admit contains nothing of substance. That was the source of a lot of frustration as the summer began to fade and now that our announcement date looms closer.

“Did Vince sign on?”

“Media relations,” I say, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Chalice in response. I gave Vince the most ambitious responsibility of all the students. He may come across as a goofy slacker, but he’s a spin artist, very articulate when he wants to be, and in my estimation, the best person to be the face of the campaign for the media.

“That’s a little crazy
, but crazy has always worked for you. When is your official announcement?”

“
We scheduled the online press conference for tomorrow, actually.” A late-August date was my choice, and I still think it was the right one. If we can build up a viral social media campaign for Congress, it has to be sustainable. Start too early and it fizzles before Election Day, even in a non-presidential election year. Too late and you don’t have enough momentum to make a dent against the incumbent.

“Well, Howell ought to love that,” she says with a wry smile.

“Eh, he hates me anyway. Howell’s objections I can handle, but I want to know what you think, Chalice.” I have always found her hard to read, and today is no exception.

“I think I admire you for following through on this. You are a man of your word, and nobody can say otherwise. I’m in awe you inspired a group of students to give up their summer to work on this with you.” She hesitates, taking a moment to look down at her tea.

“But?” I ask, knowing the other shoe is about to drop.

“But,” she says with a slight smile, “you
’re a teacher first. I don’t worry about this impacting your performance in the classroom, but I will be the minority. You are also opening yourself up to a lot of grief from parents and the administration once you make this announcement. I hope you’re ready for that.”

All I can do is nod.

“What does Jessica think about all this?”

My face gives away my answer. While Jessica has been somewhat understanding about the time I have spent on this over the summer, she has been far from my biggest cheerleader. She never wanted me to follow through
on the bet, and that hasn’t changed one bit over the past two months.

“I thought so,” Chalice says, rising from her chair. “I wish you the best of luck on your announcement tomorrow, Michael. You know you
I will support you and have already earned my vote, but please, be careful with all this.”

CHELSEA

The whole approach we laid out this summer
was a gamble, and the source of the moment’s frustration. It is also the reason why we are huddled around our cars in the parking lot of the Perkfect Buzz right now. Vince was never cool with Mister B making him responsible for dealing with the press, and his meltdown once we logged off from our online announcement showed everyone his confidence hasn’t grown any.

As we all stood
silently in search for something to say, I decided to try to break the long silence. “Well, at least there wasn’t too much media actually covering that.”

“Two months of work trying to get noticed.
I’d hardly call that a bright spot, Chelsea!” Vanessa fumes in frustration.

“
How do we get our message out if we can't even get people to listen? We can’t make this go viral if nobody has seen the website and no real press showed up at the announcement which was a train wreck anyway.” Emilee is on the reserved side for a teenage girl, and even she is outspoken right now.

Train wreck may be one of the most overused statements in America.
Very few people have seen one, and I’m not one of them. But it may be the best way I know to describe what happened.

“Look guys, nobody said this would be easy
,” I console, feeling as campaign manager I am supposed to stay optimistic.

“
Nobody said it would be this hard either,” Vanessa snaps back.

“
So much for making a difference. We’re only kidding ourselves,” Emilee laments quietly.

“
Is anybody else getting the feeling we like, just completely wasted our summer?” Peyton’s observation hangs over the group.

Nobody agrees with her, but at the same time,
they don’t disagree either. I look at Mister Bennit, hoping he will launch into one of his motivational talks, because I can’t come up with anything. I know as bad as things were for the announcement, they are only bound to get better. He looks as if he is about to say something when Vince comes storming over to the rest of us.

“
Damn it!” Vince shouts as he violently kicks the front fender of his Subaru. “Damn, damn, damn! Stupid!” He starts mumbling to himself, but I can’t really decipher what he is saying. He slams his fists on the hood one final time before collapsing against it. At least he stops taking his frustration out on his poor car. It doesn’t look capable of taking much more abuse after enduring a couple of years with Vince as the owner.

“
You done with your tantrum, Vince?” Mister B asks, trying to diffuse the tirade and failing.

“
I, uh ... I blew it.”

“
Yes, you did. But you didn't swear once, so there was at least one victory.”

“Actually,
Mister B, I think he did,” Xavier offers. Not helpful, X, not helpful at all.

“W
hat am I supposed to say when reporters ask where you stand on the issues when you have no stance? I got killed because you’re running a virtual campaign and not taking a side on what matters!” Vince practically yells. “But yeah, thanks for reminding me I suck. I couldn't even handle the local online news site that even bothered to cover this.”

“Are you blaming me for that?” Vanessa shouts, moving toward Vince.
I hear Emilee and Amanda start protesting as well. They worked hard this summer, and are taking Vince’s comment very personally. I might too if I were in their shoes.

“Well, if you ha
d–” Mister Bennit doesn’t give Vince a chance to finish his statement. Part of being a teacher is conflict resolution. When everyone is stressed out, tempers flare and personalities can clash. We are a pretty strong-willed group, so any more drama could turn this into a
Real Housewives of New Jersey
reunion show. It would also spell the end of the campaign if it gets too far out of hand.

“Stop!
Both of you! All of you!” Mister Bennit shouts, immediately bringing silence to the group. Vince and Vanessa back down, and he commands everyone’s undivided attention. I rarely hear him raise his voice, something most of classmates find shocking, given his military background.

“
All of you listen like you have never listened before. Saint Francis of Assisi once said, ‘Start by doing what is necessary; then do what is possible; and suddenly you are doing the impossible.’”

“
When did you find religion Mister B?” Peyton asks with a hint of sarcasm.

“
There are no atheists in foxholes, Peyton. And we are all in the same foxhole right now.”

“Are we?” Vince
questions. “Because I don’t think we are all even on the same page. We want to take a stand and do what’s necessary to win. But you won’t let us run that campaign. Now we’re a joke.”

“Vince, if a tree falls in the woods, and nobody is there to hear it, is it really worth arguing with
people whether it makes a sound or not?” Mister B says while studying our defeated faces. We ran things the way we wanted over the summer, but now I get the feeling our mentor is about to step in and set some expectations.

“Remember what we said at
Briar Point?” he continues. “We have to change the game. Now, it doesn’t matter whether we’re pro-life or pro-choice, or for bigger or smaller government. Whatever we say, mark my words, will be spun by and used against us. Winston Beaumont could make Mother Teresa seem like an exploiter and an opportunist.

“We
agreed we would have to change the game or we’d lose. That started today with what happened in there. Press conferences are their thing, not ours. Luckily we don’t have to do one again.”

“
Are you kidding, Mister B? What happened in there was that I was terrible. Is that what you wanted?” Vince asks out of frustration. He is not listening to what Mister Bennit is saying.

“
Vince, stop trying to be the White House press secretary and just be you. That is why I gave you the job. I just need you to be you.”

“Maybe you
shouldn't have. Maybe I’m not for this job.”

“Vinc
e, I know you’re doubting yourself, but I’m not. I got killed in there too. You are taking this way too personally.”

“Forget it
, Mister B, I'm done,” Vince says as he climbs in his car and slams the door. We all watch him go before the others on the staff say goodbyes of their own. Mister Bennit watches each one of them leave, saying nothing.

By the time he
turns around to face me, a lone tear is running down my cheek. I’m fighting valiantly to hold my emotions in, but it’s a losing battle. It’s hard to stay strong when it feels like the world is crashing down around me.

“
I'm sorry I let you down, Mister B,” is all I can mutter.

“
You haven't let me down once since the day you were just a scared freshman who wandered into my classroom. Today didn't change that, Chels.”

“We planned all summer.
I never guessed it would be this hard,” I lament, looking down at the asphalt to avoid his eyes. ”Or end this way.”

I
feel Mister Bennit give me a little squeeze on the shoulder. I’m surprised at the gesture because he avoids hugs, or any kind of affection with female students. I’m sure he worries how they will interpret it, or for that matter, how others will. But in this situation, I could use a hug. I will settle for a reassuring squeeze though.

“I’m not sure it’s over yet
, Chelsea. Everything is hard before it’s easy. There’s a good chance the fire hasn’t gone completely out on this campaign yet. We just need a spark to rekindle it.”