I was only eight years old when my family was attacked for the first time. From an early age, I felt the tension of my parents trying to protect me from injury. But secrecy was never their forte.
It was 2015, and my father had decided to quit his job to run for state legislature. On weekends, we hit the streets knocking on doors and participating in fundraisers. Some people warmly welcomed us with coffee and cookies. But some, like the older man, thought it was okay to yell at the children and their fathers to leave the property before “making us.”
It wasn’t a typical family bonding experience, but I loved it. Being immersed in politics at an early age gave me a unique perspective and appreciation for civic engagement. Little did we know it would take a personal toll on all of us.
As my father’s political career progressed, the demands on his time became increasingly demanding. During Congress sessions, I often didn’t see him for days as he burned the midnight oil in the Capitol. He missed family dinners, vacations, and school events. The boundaries between our personal lives and his professional life have disappeared. Social media posts went viral among friends, and personal attacks infiltrated my life. The need for police surveillance of our home due to death threats became a reality. Still, I admired his dedication and believed his positive influence made the difficult parts worthwhile.
Things changed in 2022 when my father decided to run for mayor of Denver. I remember sitting in the audience with my mother and brother. That’s when one of his opponents flatly called him a racist on live TV in front of thousands of people. I watched as almost everyone on stage knew nothing about him. This is my father, raising two boys of color in Denver, and always talking to us about things he knew we wouldn’t understand.
Over the next week, he faced relentless personal attacks from his opponents. The attack had nothing to do with ideology or policy, but simply against him as a white man. As I stood on the sidelines, unable to defend my father, I had never felt so helpless or disillusioned with politics in my entire life. His opponents were not interested in discussing the issue or understanding his position. They wanted to create clickbait to drive their own campaigns.
At that moment, something inside me snapped. The pure, abiding love for politics I once felt has been replaced by a deep cynicism about the state of public discourse. I grew up dreaming of one day following in my father’s footsteps, but now that ambition felt tainted by the harsh realities I had witnessed.
The attacks continued even after my father decided to resign from his position in the state senate just a few days ago. Instead of celebrating his long service and often unrecognized accomplishments, we were met with a scathing and unprofessional news segment that was more like character assassination than responsible journalism. As someone who publicly advocates for professionalism and impactful journalism, it is extremely disappointing to witness such inappropriate and unprofessional attacks. The vile comments from Kyle Clark, Denver’s most-watched local news anchor, highlight the very problems plaguing our political system. It is simply wrong to reduce someone who has held public office for 10 years to a caricature of a power-hungry politician.
The media and critics know Sen. Chris Hansen. They don’t know about “Dad”. That he loved good coffee, was worried about paying for college, and felt guilty about having to say no so many times as we grew up. They don’t understand the difficult conversations and decisions that are made within our families. And I know my family is not alone.
We live in a world where public officials are supposed to ignore personal attacks, but too often these attacks cross boundaries in inappropriate ways. They affect family, friends, and neighbors. Given the personal toll it takes to be a politician, I’ve realized that in today’s climate it’s nearly impossible to have a long career in public office unless you’re someone who shuts everyone out and doesn’t care. But that’s not what great leaders do. People of goodwill cannot thrive in a political climate that divides, demonizes, and is single-mindedly seeking to score points and tear each other apart.
But what can you do to change that? Join the campaign to elect people you believe in. Attend local city council, school board, state assembly, and senate meetings to hear from your representatives and ask questions. By doing so, you will get to know them as human beings, imperfect but with good intentions. Doing so will help you become a more critical consumer of the news. It would give insight into what intentions people have when they misrepresent the positions of elected officials. And you can become a partner with your elected officials, not just a bystander. Before you criticize an elected official, ask yourself, “How can they see the bigger picture that I don’t?”
I have also seen the good side of politics. I’ve been obsessed with the difference it makes in people’s lives. But we are so caught up in our hatred of our political opponents that we forget that politics can be a pure and true tool for the American people. If we can restore a sense of common purpose and mutual respect in our politics, perhaps the personal sacrifices required of public servants will not be in vain.
Sachin Hansen is a senior at George Washington High School in Denver.
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