What Catholics can do for their country.

American Catholics have a moral obligation to participate in the political process, argues Cathy O'Connell-Cahill. So cast your vote and encourage your kids.

AN EASY QUESTION: WOULD YOU WANT YOUR KID TO BE a rock star? You can stop screaming "Nooooo" any time now, thanks. Now another one: Would you want your kid to be president?

According to a poll a few years back, president was second only to rock star as the occupation parents would least want for their children. The poll did not go into reasons, but you can guess at a few:

1. Can anyone who can't even complete the transport of smelly socks from feet to hamper possibly be trusted to negotiate delicate trade relations with communist China?

2. You worry about all those things that 60 Minutes would ferret out to make your kid (or you) look really dumb.

3. You think all politicians are shifty crooks, and you'd hate for your kid to become one of those.

Hey, that rock star thing is starting to look not so bad.

I have an 11-year-old son who wants to be president, and my husband and I have, for better or worse, encouraged him in this quest. When James was a talkative 3-year-old, the ticket agent at our local train station would announce, "Here comes the little politician!" whenever we approached his booth. I took this as a good omen, not an ominous prophecy of budding Richard Nixonism. A few years back, he wrote to our U.S. Congressman, Rod Blagojevich, urging him to introduce a 28th amendment to the Constitution to extend voting rights to anyone over the age of 6. He figured wisely that he'd need the kid vote if he were ever going to win the White House before becoming an old man of 35.

Here's a note he scrawled on his older cousin's birthday card this year: "If you've ever thought about running for office, now is the time, because this country is going to the dogs. We need someone like you? James wants to be president not because people will stand up and bands will play wherever he goes, but because he sees our world in lots of trouble and he thinks he might be able to do something about it. Isn't this what we should be encouraging our kids to think?

JAMES IS SWIMMING AGAINST THE TIDE, TO PUT IT MILDLY. Many people find that their teeth itch at the mere mention of the word politics. Doubt it? Before every presidential election of the past 24 years, the U.S. Catholic bishops have issued a statement on "political responsibility." This year, however, they rechristened it a "civic responsibility statement." Why? The bishops' public relations folks confessed that "having the word `political' in the title--the first thing people see--causes uneasiness among some pastors and others who may therefore dismiss the statement."

"Uneasiness" is the bishops' polite way of acknowledging that their people are fed up with the whole process. We gaped slack-jawed at the dishonesty and posturing on both sides during the Clinton impeachment hoopla. We feel elbowed out of the political process by corporate contributors with bulging pockets. We hear complex issues carved into laughable 15-second platitudes. New scandals pop up every week. (Don't I know it--I live in Chicago, where we cart aldermen off to jail by the dozen.)

This situation puts us all on shaky ground. Franciscan Father Kenneth Himes spoke earlier this year to a group of Catholic social-justice ministers: "A danger today is that politics will become so denigrated that only the vulgar or untalented will see it as a vocation. Needed is not a blind eye to the weaknesses of individual politicians, but a healthy appreciation for what the practice of politics can do--serve the well-being of our community."

If our nation's doctors became corrupt and incompetent, would we simply give up on them and start self-treating our diabetes and cancers with leeches and magic potions? If our auto manufacturers forgot how to keep our cars' wheels from falling off, would we simply return to the days of horse and buggy?

Yet that's what we do when we give up on politics, allowing it to become the refuge of the "vulgar and untalented." Like it or not, politics is how we decide things--important things--in our country, such as: Should everyone have health insurance? How will we help the poor? How much pollution will we accept? How much will we spend to educate our children? Will we permit our citizens to carry guns? Will we fight in wars? Will we insist that communities build housing that poor people can afford? Will we permit abortions? Will we execute criminals? Will we allow physician-assisted suicide? Will we help another nation in crisis?

Depending on who is in office to make these decisions, the answers will look very different. Illinois Governor George Ryan made headlines by placing a moratorium on executions in Illinois. Why? Because in recent years 13 Illinois death-row inmates had been cleared of their crimes after wrongful convictions. Ryan, a supporter of capital punishment, made a courageous decision. He didn't allow himself to be held hostage by fears that his reputation would suffer. Can Illinois be the only state in danger of putting innocent people to death?

We also need politicians of courage and moral substance to address the lack of decent health coverage for so many in our country--just one of many thorny issues with no easy answers. The question is: Who do you want making these decisions? If we harrumph that "politics is hopeless" and, worse yet, pass that on to our children, we hand over these choices to other people's kids who may not have been raised to value the common good, to respect the dignity of human life, to consider our obligation to the poor. (You could say the same thing about parents who steer their kids away from considering the priesthood but then bemoan the lack of good priests to staff their local parishes.)

Being a citizen of a democracy entails moral obligations, says Himes, "just as there are moral obligations to being a spouse in a marriage or a parent in a family." And as not only citizens but Catholics, our moral obligations include working for the good of others, especially those who are poor or at risk. These obligations take us far beyond just voting. If, for example, you see politics as unresponsive, then get involved with campaign finance reform to reduce the influence of special interests. If you feel strongly about certain issues, write letters to your elected officials and let them know what you think. Groups like United Power for Action and Justice in Chicago have begun holding public officials' feet to the fire on their promises about issues such as health care and housing legislation. Join a group like this in your area.

MOST IMPORTANT, TALK ABOUT POLITICS WITH YOUR children. Vaclav Havel, president of the Czech Republic, said that democracy begins not with elections but with conversations. I would add that strengthening our democracy's future begins by talking with your kids about what kind of society we want to have, and the different ways we might actually achieve it. We parents have a moral obligation to prepare and encourage our children to participate actively in the political life of this country. Teach them to respect politics as a vocation, and help them to see how politicians have the opportunity to do much good in their work. Read them stories of some of your heroes in politics--even if you have to go all the way back to Abraham Lincoln!

Guide them in analyzing the ads you see coming across your television this fall: Teach them to recognize negative ads; show them how ads can play with the truth or manipulate public opinion. Talk with them about the complex issues of our day and ask how they would attempt to solve them. (They might surprise you.) Encourage them to read the newspaper each day. Help them write a letter to the president, to your representatives in Congress, or to your local leaders. Do some campaign work for a candidate you support, and let your kids help you. Take them with you when you go to vote. Maybe your kids will never run for office, but it's still your moral responsibility to teach them how to contribute something positive to our democracy when they grow up, just as you are also teaching them how to be faithful spouses and good parents.

And if they tell you they'd like to be president, for heaven's sake look them straight in the eye and say, "I can't think of anyone who would do a better job."

Last Sunday before we left the house, James asked me to tape a TV show that was airing during Sunday Mass. As Mass began, he leaned over to ask if I had remembered to record it. "No," I said, "I'm sorry." He sighed and said, "That's OK, Mom. I'm starting to learn that `You must be the change you wish to see in the world.'"

Gandhi said that, and James' teacher, Ms. Peppler, had posted it in their classroom. A fine watchword for someone who wants to be your president.

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CATHY O'CONNELL-CAHILL, an associate editor of U.S. CATHOLIC.