Graham’s Grumblings: Never underestimate a public-school educator

By Timothy R. Graham

Director of Government Relations

March 17 was, indeed, a lucky day for me.

And no, not because of St. Patrick’s Day.

Graham is a Scottish name, and I’ve always had a soft spot for family history. Which raises a fair question - am I even supposed to be celebrating St. Patrick’s Day?

Because if you know your history, the Scots and the Irish have had a complicated relationship. And somewhere along the way, the Grahams didn’t exactly end up in Ireland by invitation.

Beyond that, St. Patrick’s Day has always struck me as what my former boss, Anthony Hensley, used to call “amateur night” - the one night of the year when folks who don’t normally drink decide it’s a good idea to go out, get liquored up, and see how much trouble they can get into.

No, March 17 was a lucky day for me because I got to spend it with nearly 200 KNEA members at the Statehouse.

Now before you start thinking I’ve gone soft or gotten a little too sentimental, let me explain why that’s been complicated.

I’m not a big fan of rallies. Heck, let me just be honest - I really don’t like rallies. In full disclosure, I hate rallies - or at least I used to.

And before you roll your eyes, hear me out. Part of the problem is I’m a little spoiled. Over the years, I’ve had the chance to witness some truly powerful political moments.

I’ve sat in a small Kansas church, packed from pillar to pew, and watched Jesse Jackson lift that entire congregation up to its feet.

I’ve stood shoulder to shoulder with a small group of Kansans, watching Bill Clinton work a room like only he can and call us into action.

I was in Philadelphia in 2016 when Hillary Clinton accepted the Democratic nomination for president and reminded everyone - very clearly - why she deserved to be president, and why she was the stronger Clinton in that duo all along.

And speaking of conventions, I’ve been to four of them. I was in Boston in 2004 when a relatively unknown state senator, who would later describe himself as “a skinny kid with a funny name,” stepped onto that stage, stepped into history, and introduced himself to the world.

I even had the good fortune of scoring a ticket to an after-hours event that night where I got to meet him for the first time. Everyone in that room was already talking about how he was going to be president someday. I remember thinking, maybe, but I was a pretty healthy skeptic.

But sure enough, just four years later, I found myself at the 2008 convention.

That was on the first night, when Teddy Kennedy - dying of brain cancer - walked out onto that stage, hand still bandaged from an IV he had received backstage and threw his full support behind Barack Obama for president.

I grew up in a family that loved John Kennedy and Robert Kennedy.

There stood Teddy Kennedy - the first politician I had ever written a letter to as a 7-year-old kid - right there on that stage.

I was on my feet before I even knew it, arms straight up, fist clenched, like I was at a KU basketball championship game.

And then I sat back down and just started sobbing.

Yeah, it got me.

It was also the first time my son’s mom ever saw me cry.

I’m getting goosebumps just thinking about it.

The conventions weren’t just about the speeches.

At those conventions, I remember Peter, Paul and Mary taking the stage and bringing that old-school protest energy with them. Willie Nelson did what Willie Nelson does. And you had Stevie Wonder and Michael McDonald - artists who didn’t need politics but showed up anyway - helping carry the moment.

Those weren’t just performances. They were part of something bigger. The whole place felt like it was moving in the same direction.

So, to be fair - I’m certainly not a “big deal” - but I have had the chance to witness some pretty big deals, at least in the lane of American politics. Because of that, it takes a lot for a rally to really move me.

It’s more of an “it’s me, not you” situation.

Secondly, I’ve been burned a few times, too.

Over the years, I’ve had plenty of well-meaning, fired-up political folks insist we needed a rally - promise big crowds, lots of energy, the whole thing - only to end up sitting in an oversized venue with maybe a dozen people there.

And that count includes the speakers, the staff and the DJ.

I’m exaggerating a little. But not by much.

So, when I began working at KNEA, it was my understanding that we had stepped away from large Statehouse lobby days.

I was fine with that. In fact, given the perspective I brought to the job, it made sense to me.

So, when members started asking to bring back a big lobby day at the Statehouse, I’ll be honest, that idea was met with some healthy skepticism, too. And frankly, because I tend to overshare, I didn’t keep that skepticism to myself. I wore it on my sleeve.

And with that, educators did what they’ve done to me my entire life, they showed me the way.

It was almost like they were saying, “Oh, you don’t think we can pull this off? Hold my drink and watch what we do.”

And that led to last year.

In the true spirit of St. Patrick’s Day magic, our member organizers led us all to a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Last year’s rally made a believer out of me.

And as I’ve said several times since Tuesday, last year was great, and this year was even better.

The excitement is contagious. The energy is contagious.

Last year, I was a nervous wreck, just waiting for something to go wrong. This year, I told myself to let it happen - to just take it in and enjoy it.

And enjoy it I did.

The signs. The chants. The speeches. The speakers themselves. The members.

It was, well … Let’s just say, I’ll channel a little Joe Biden here, in what he famously whispered to President Obama right before that speech on the passage of the Affordable Care Act.

If you know, you know.

If you don’t, well, go ahead and Google it.

I’ll just leave it at that.

So now, back to why March 17 was a lucky day for me.

At 51 years old, educators are still teaching me things I need to learn.

And this time, I learned a lesson I won’t forget: Never underestimate what a public-school educator can do.

Turns out, I might like rallies again.

And I’ll say this, I’m lucky to represent public schools.

Graham’s Grumblings is a weekly opinion column offering an insider’s perspective on Kansas politics, the legislative process and Kansas elections, with a focus on the issues impacting public education, educators and KNEA members. In each weekly edition, Graham shares his perspective shaped by more than 25 years of experience inside Kansas politics and government, including service as Director of Governmental Relations and Legislative Affairs for the Kansas National Education Association; Director of Government Affairs for Governor Laura Kelly; Deputy Executive Director of the Kansas Lottery; Interim Executive Director of InterHab; Chief of Staff to the Kansas Senate Minority Leader; and Assistant Secretary of State for the State of Kansas.

The opinions expressed herein are those of the author alone and should not be interpreted as reflecting the official policies or positions of the Kansas National Education Association (KNEA), its local affiliates or its members.