Just three short years ago, I was the type of person who I can't stand to be around now.

Sure, I watched the news — I grew up in a home that would have never let me be completely uninformed — and yes, I grabbed the student newspapers on my way to class. But I couldn't have rattled off the names of several Madison City Council members (Verveer, King, Konkel), nor did I understand exactly what the Associated Students of Madison does (wait, I actually may still not know).

Regardless, like any other 18-year-old, I was ecstatic I was finally of voting age. You would think my excitement would lead me to become as informed as possible on the various candidates, even if I was only voting in the Wisconsin primaries. Unfortunately, I traipsed to the polls with little knowledge about any of the candidates other than there was a kid in my political science class who may have been Howard Dean's biggest fan.

Needless to say, I cast my ballot, which was better than not bothering at all, for a candidate who had basically won me over only in the sense that I recognized his name the most. He was the guy many of my friends were voting for, so why not just follow suit?

I hated that I couldn't justify why I voted for Dean. Besides the fact that he was a Democrat, and I considered myself to be one too, I had no reasoning for why I supported him. And, to be honest, I'm not quite sure I could have justified why I considered myself a Democrat. Mainly, I felt strongly (and still do) that a woman should have the right to choose what happens to her body. It makes my stomach turn to think that anyone — especially men — could take away that right.

My ignorance managed to spill into the November 2004 presidential election, when neither candidate particularly appealed to me, and I voted along party lines again, partially because I was a self-proclaimed liberal and partially because a good friend worked on the Kerry campaign. Neither reason is a very good one, but again, at least I voted.

As I began to write more and more for The Badger Herald, I had no choice but to become more informed about city politics. I began to appreciate what an exciting place Madison is for students — we are constantly surrounded by some of the most nonsensical, but nevertheless interesting, political agendas: From the most recent ordinance allowing politicians to declare their opposition to the gay marriage and civil unions ban when being sworn into office to bizarre and ineffective policies to deal with a crime wave that threatens us all.

My personal dilemma emerged when, upon reviewing the Madison mayoral candidates' platforms, I found myself continually agreeing with Ray Allen, not Mayor Dave Cieslewicz. Despite the fact the election is non-partisan, it is no secret where the party lines are drawn. And it shocked me to find that even the thought of voting for a Republican bothered me so much.

Unlike many Democrats on campus who are eager to be a part of Mayor Cieslewicz's campaign, I'm doing my best to stay as far away as possible. (Though I would have done this even if I had not been obliged, thanks to my editorship here). I have consistently disagreed with the way Mr. Cieslewicz handled Halloween in downtown Madison and can't begin to describe my frustration with a mayor who, in the context of the Alcohol License Density Plan, openly resists new downtown businesses. And don't even get me started on his proposed trolley system. Perhaps it's time for a changing of the guard, so to speak.

It was hard enough to come to terms with the possibility of turning my back on the Democratic Party, but my dilemma worsened when I discovered a Facebook group in support of Allen created by none other than the College Republicans. Now I was not only supporting the Republican candidate, but also the campus Republican Party and its leaders, two entities I have never seen eye-to-eye with. I wondered if I was willing to repeat my earliest mistakes as a voter and vote for Mr. Cieslewicz just so I didn't vote for Mr. Allen and the College Republicans.

The more I thought about my dilemma, the more I realized that it would be the worst possible thing to vote for Mr. Cieslewicz — who, generally, I do believe is a nice guy — just for the sake of the ideological purity and loyalty so often demanded of us by politicians and political activists. But I worry that so many people are so hungry to be part of a group with firm opinions on every issue that they often abandon their own beliefs.

But what else will motivate a liberal candidate to re-evaluate his positions than realizing that his own supporters, with just a little bit of information, are leaning toward the other side?

I still believe I am a Democrat. I still care whole-heartedly about women's rights and, more locally, student safety. I'm just ready to see candidates — from all parties — take the problems by the throat, rather than divert attention to unnecessary transportation additions.

So maybe the right guy for the job is a Republican, but who cares? Not me — anymore.

Emily Friedman ([email protected]) is a senior majoring in journalism and legal studies.