Let’s talk about the mayoral elephant in the room…

For those of you who maybe haven't met me before, you may have noticed I share a last name with our current Mayor, Don Darling, and I just want to set the record straight. Yes, Don is my Dad. I've known him all 26 years of my life; he, along with my mom, raised my siblings and me, provided for us, and ran us around to every event growing up.

It's kind of hard for me to sit down and have to explain this a bit, I think mostly because, for me, this has been another one of my father's jobs; so me stepping up to want to run for council isn't because my father has been mayor, but at the same time I would be lying if I said my fathers stint in public service didn't inspire me to serve better and give back to my own community.

Something I do want to be clear about is, like many people and their parents, My Dad and I don't always see eye to eye on every single issue. But maybe unlike some, I look forward to the family dinners and coffees that result in these conversations. My Dad is someone that will sit down and tell you exactly why he thinks what he thinks, but he's also one of the best listeners I know. No matter how much he doesn't necessarily agree with a specific viewpoint of mine, you can see the wheels turning in his head as he's taking in what you say and genuinely challenging his own view. And that's not saying my Dad has always been stuck in his same views; he's more than willing to grow, change and continue to try to be the best he can. For me, there's no clearer example than from my high school days.

Dad used to work in the corporate world, in the home building industry. He had a very specific view of what it meant to be "professional," both in action and how you looked. So when my sister came home one day and announced she wanted a lip ring, that became the end of the world. What seems like not a big deal to a 16-year-old thriving in the emo scene of the mid-2000s—yes, Meghan, I had to include that— became the end of her shot of any sort of professional career for my father. While I had no desire to get my lip pierced— I chose to vicariously live out the more risky fashion choices through my twin sister— I knew the things my Dad was saying weren't making sense. That's the first clear memory I have of sitting down and debating something serious with my Dad.

I specifically remember us relating to red ties. Like, what if this generation had decided if you wore a red tie, you're unprofessional? No matter how hard you work or how educated, anyone seeing you wear a red tie would have that prejudgement. He didn't necessarily get it or agree that night, but now almost ten years later, this is not a prejudgement I would attach to my Dad. The guy who now loves to poke at each new piercing I get almost cried about my last tattoo's meaning and now is surrounded by many competent individuals encompassing a wide array of "professional" looks.

I guess what I'm trying to say is as a young, educated adult trying to give back to my city; I want to be able to step up as a member of the community and be a voice for those less represented, for people who see me on council and realize that they could be there too. But that being said, my Dad is my Dad. So although we don't see eye to eye on each specific issue, our approaches of honesty, hard work, constant growth, and service to Saint John's people are unwavering values. And I'm proud to say I learned that from my father.