Dear John McCain

“How did you get that scar on your neck?” my classmate shouted. Silence as twenty pairs of eyes turned to stare at my throat. It was the question they had all been waiting to ask. I responded “I was cutting a bagel with a really, sharp knife and my hand slipped!” Giggles and murmurs of doubt erupted as the teacher told everyone to take their seats. Should I have told them the truth? Could they handle the truth? “I’m a cancer survivor. My throat was cut twice to remove what was first thought to be a benign mass, but turned out to be a malignant tumor on my thyroid.” The truth was I didn’t care. I was a freshman entering a new high school and just wanted to move on.
The whispers would begin as soon as I entered a room, “He’s been out for months due to cancer.” It was clear that my peers felt sorry for me. They’d address me with a polite, but uneasy, tone while trying to escape the awkwardness as soon as they could. I was different, someone who didn’t belong. Slowly, I became introverted, avoiding unnecessary social contact, frequenting the path of least resistance. I was just another penny in the jar, and I was content to be there. When called upon, I would regurgitate the most common response. At lunch, I would sit at the end of the “cool” table using the status of the jocks as social camouflage. My freshman year sputtered to a forgettable end.
Enter election 2008. The television was tuned to CNN as the primary debate ensued. Mitt Romney championed his business expertise while Rudy Giuliani explained his most recent affair. As my interest faded the camera panned to Senator John McCain. The honesty and clarity of his answers riveted me. Here was a man who had risked his life and well-being to serve the people. I could see the dedication and passion in his eyes, alongside the scars lining his tired face.
The next day, a bracingly cold January morning, as usual I shuffled into my sophomore history class. The bell rang as we took our seats. “Did anyone catch the debate last night?” my teacher asked. I scanned the room--a couple kids looked down at their phones; others glanced out the window. I leaned back in my chair, waiting for the teacher to proceed. Then I remembered McCain. The ferocity with which he served his country pierced my mind. Didn’t he deserve my acknowledgement? “I saw it Ms. Fleming” I said, stopping her before she moved on. The students glared at me. I hesitated; should I go on? Again, I thought of McCain and continued. I gave my analysis of the debate speaking softly as first, and then louder and more confidently as I spoke of McCain. With an air of surprise my teacher commended me, “Very good Merrill, thank you.” My chest swelled with pride.
Until that morning my bout with cancer had left me with a profile that no one would want. I was the boy to whom no one could relate. I needed a new identity, a niche, and I finally found it-- politics. I became the resident political expert. My hours at home were spent immersed in the archives of realclearpolitics.com. School no longer bored me, as I scoured every class for an opportunity to showcase my newfound passion. My days at the “cool” table were over. Instead I spent my lunch hour attending a Political Discussion club meeting, in the presence of people who appreciated me for who I was.
Sophomore year turned to junior year. I created a Young Republican’s club, and volunteered after school for the McCain campaign. Students and teachers interested in politics turned to me for advice. Through my group, New Jersey Teenage Republicans, I got them involved in the process. I stood in as the McCain advocate for our school’s mock debates. McCain’s sense of civic duty had infused me with inspiration. I woke up each morning eager to start the new day.
Now when asked about my scar I answer proudly and directly, “I am a cancer survivor.” Cancer is a part of my life that I will never be able to forget, nor would I want to. The developmental challenges I faced upon entering high school—peer pressure, physical changes—paled in comparison to what I had already accomplished in battling my illness. McCain showed me that it is not our experiences that define us, but how we handle them. In serving his country dutifully McCain has enriched the lives and well being of others. Without his willingness to embrace his differences and break away from the pack, he would not have been able to accomplish all that he has. We all have scars, whether from the field of battle, from the operating room, or from life. We should not let them hinder us in our pursuits, but acknowledge them for all they bring to our character. I seek a life that will further the interests of a cause greater than me, the cause of government. I am lucky to have found that drive at such an early point in my life. I owe my awakening to cancer and John McCain.