Giant Effects of Fatherhood
Gained resilience by observing a Great Man
My Dad is a lifer-politician.
Before you start judging him and putting him in “that” politician category, let me convince you that you would absolutely admire and adore him if you knew him. I think if he was your Dad, you would be just as proud of him as I am.
At a function to honour and thank Dad for his work as Warden of the County (for multiple terms).
Let’s start with the unorthodox lessons I have gleaned as a result of his political involvements. He embodied many real-time examples of how to be tenacious, goal oriented and determined but one example, that occurred while I was a teenager, stands out for me.
In the political organization he supported, there was an adult division and a “youth” division. I, of course, was a youth member. Here in Canada, members of a political party are allowed to send a prescribed number of delegates from each jurisdiction to vote in the Party Leader. At that time, we were allowed to send several adult delegates and one youth delegate to the leadership convention. It took no convincing for me to decide I would run for the youth position. I was eager to experience a real leadership convention and be part of this very important democratic process. I would potentially see history in the making! Besides, I had done so much work on the youth party’s executive, it was a shoe-in. I was well known and felt quite confident that all the hard work I had done would prove to the young voters that I knew my stuff and would represent the county well.
At the meeting where delegates would be selected from our county, the adults decided they would have the youth elections first and then proceed to select the adults. Getting up in front of both the teenagers and grown-ups didn’t bother me; I had worked really hard on my speech and felt confident that it reflected my ability and desire to represent them. And the speech went really, really well. Another girl also recited her rhetoric but she wasn’t as well known in the circles. I hadn’t seen her out at many of our youth events so I didn’t see her as a threat. The youth members voted their candidate in.
I lost.
And, I lost to that girl.
When the votes were announced, even the adults gasped with me. She had flooded the room with new members recently recruited for the purpose of voting for her. There was a short break scheduled before the speeches and election of the grown-ups. My dad came rushing over to me; I assumed it was to console me. But, he was there to coach me. He said, “You deserve to be at the convention. Run as an adult.” I didn’t know I could, but he assured me that there were no rules against it. He continued, “The people in this room know the good work you have done.” I was worried because this was a big, bold step and I only had a youth speech prepared. He tutored me quickly on ideas of how to repeat the speech with some changes to prove how much I wanted to go to the convention.
Now I was scared. The room had seen me already lose. How embarrassing to lose again. There were many very worthy adults running. Would they see me as a cocky, teen who was having a temper-tantrum because she lost? Dad told me there was nothing at stake. It didn’t matter if I lost. What mattered is that I showed them I could get up again. What mattered was I showed myself I could get up again. What mattered was that I was willing to serve my community.
And I won.
Yes, I attended a very important Canadian Leadership convention in the 1980s as an ADULT. Despite my age, all those grown-ups taught me that my voice mattered. They trusted me to represent them and I took that responsibility very seriously. My Dad trusted and believed in me.
The successful candidate of that leadership convention became one of Canada’s Prime Ministers.
Is this about always winning? Absolutely not. When I graduated from teachers college, the stats for employment in the field were daunting. Only three in my Graduating class were hired full time that fall. There were not many jobs posted simply because not many districts were hiring. I applied everywhere. I literally got in my car and visited as many High Schools I could think of in Southern Ontario, handing out my resume, meeting with the Principals, even though they all told me there were no jobs available. I applied to any post I was qualified for. I had my first interview and I didn’t get the job. That’s when my Dad’s lesson kicked in again. I had to say the speech again, volunteer some more and earn myself a job.
I was hired that fall in Sudbury at a Performing Arts School.
Since then, I have had many wins and a lot more losses. But who is counting? Certainly not my Dad. He counts how many times we try.
My Dad tries for everything. He loves his community and no one could ever count the number of hours of his life he volunteered to serve as Mayor, Reeve, Warden of the County, as Police Commissioner, Hospital Auxiliary, Nature Conservation Authorities, his church, on the Children’s Aid Society, Agricultural Society, and so many more. Even now, he finds funding for the local Seniors and washes the dishes after big banquet events are held in the area. He says he is retired from both his vocation and politics but, along with many committees, he is also on the Family Health Care Team and the local Accessibility Committee. I was surprised to find out recently that he had joined a local “Community of Character Committee” whose mandate was to ensure that all in the area were supported with local programs. When I asked him what exactly the committee does, he replied, “We just make sure that our community is a really nice place to live”.
It’s not just me who feels this way; the editor of the local paper, Marion Duke, wrote a beautiful article called, “And Then There Were Giants”. In it, she selected 5 individuals in the community to hail as “Giants”. Among them was Dad. She listed many of the roles he held (see above!) and explained, “There are many kinds of giants -- physical and mental. After four decades of reporting the happenings of this town, in my opinion, there are people who were giants in their realm of endeavour... It was his leadership and understanding of the area -- as well as his respect for municipal staffers -- that made him exceptional”. She continued, “Mr. Judge used conciliation and negotiation rather than confrontation; it was the right choice for the time.”
Watching Dad in action, taught me not only the value of contributing to my community but the basic premise that I have something to offer the community. It was a balance of giving with a dose of confidence.
My Dad, at 5 foot, 7 (and a half) inches, is not what most consider a Giant. The Giant contributions, mentorships, love and encouragement he is given to all in his enthusiastic wake, will have residual effects for decades to come in the lives of individuals and the community of Listowel, Ontario. And his children have learned to be Giants in their own way too.
ADDENDUM:
In case you are wondering, it’s very difficult to stock up on memberships to win anymore. This has been rectified since the 80s; there is a membership deadline well in advance of election meetings to avoid this.
Curious what kind of woman would marry this man? Check out a few blog posts about his wife, Shirley Judge: No Purchaser Remorse, Speling Mistaks Lead to Resillency and The Best Thing About Moms.
Quote from: “The Listowel Banner”, written by then-editor Marion Duke, August 2005.
