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The votes are in

Oh, my friend, it’s not what they take away from you that counts
It’s what you do whit what you have left
Hubert Humphrey

At the end of my junior year, nominations for student body officers caused quite a stir. It appeared that debbie whould run unopposed for president. Talking amongst a group of disgruntled girls, I muttered, There must be someone who’d run against herSuddenly liz focused her attention on me Why not you? Me? No away. I work after school. I can’t stay for all those meetings.
My closest friend linda vetoed my protests. Why not? Just think how great our senior year would be! You could get a real senior trip apprpvet and get better bands for the dances. You could even get celebrities to speak at our assemblies!
My litte group continued to ignoremy now feble protests as they speculated on the wonderful changes I could make. By the end of the week, they’d gotten enough signatures to put my name on the ballot.
Debbie and I had vety different campaign styles. Because I was always hoppong around, I’d earned the nickname Bunny signs soon popped up around campus with perky rabbits and theslogan Make your votes multiply with bunny! My platformaimed for more fun and les restrictions. We more uniforms and I advocated more free dres days and broader interpretation of what accessories were acceptable on regular dress days.
My opponent, on the other hand, avoitded any hint of silliness on her posters. Catchy slogans and cuddly critters had no place in her serious campaing. What she offered was the opening of senior lawn to all studentsand an alphabetical reformatting of the yearbook that would intermingle ninth throungh twelfth graders rather than highlight seniors in oversized portraits. Gone would be a dedication of nearly half the yearbook to seniors their quotes and their many exciting activities.
Underclasmen loved debbie’s ideas; her equality among the grade levels held a magnetic appeal for them. would-be seniors howeverwere livid . the lawn we’d gazed longingly at for three long years as our own private paradise was now to be shared by all? Outrageous! Senior portraits to belost in a sea of lowerclassmen? What was she thinking?
My classmates rallied behind me and I was confident they could sway enough underclassmen to vote my way. Each day I got reports of a few more freshmen and sophomores seeing the light,however distant of senior perks.
On election day, I felt fairly confident. I was even looking forward to quitting my job and focusing on school politics. The vote was to take place during homeroom but before any ballots were distributed the principal’s voiced boomed from the PA system.
A special congratulation goes out to debbie hart who put our school on the map with her oustanding science fairproyect.
My head began to throb as I tunned out additional details the principal just had to share about the honor and glory this one science proyect had heaped upon our shool. The details grew fuzzy but I got the feeling that debbie’s entry was equivalent to the invention of penicillin or the polio vaccine.
At he merciful end of the principal’s tribute, the ballots were at long last passed out.I knew my peers would not be swayed by the announcement but what about the rest of the school?
By the end of the day the votes were counted and debbie was declared the winner . a friend who helped with the counting let me know I’d lost by only twenty votes. Almost winning felt just like losing… actually it was losing… and i got depressed. All I’d been hearing for the past few weeks prepared mefor the thrill of victory not the agony of defeat.
Avoiding my group of friends I sat on the steps that led to the senior lawn. Just staring at what would soon be shared space, I didn’t notice Mr. Laskey, the cool young teacher with long hair and a beard.
He sat down beside me sharing my view of the grass.
Turning to me, he smiled ¡Congratulations!
No, I didn’t win, I replied
Yes, you did....