On the second day of Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish new year, last week, my parents’ dining room table was home to a political debate at least as interesting as the VP one we saw last Thursday night. Six women and one man, all actively involved with their synagogue (some as clergy, some as volunteers) sat around the table, and with the debate one day away, discussed, what else, politics.

For some, politics is a topic to be steered clear of during holiday meals. Not so at my parents’ house. And certainly not so with this crowd of people. To give you a little perspective, many of these women have worked very hard over the past 30 years to get to where they (and we) are today. They have been in education, putting our children and their needs first for years. They donated more time and money to build the Jewish community they wanted to live in, and felt their children deserved, than anyone else I know. They have fought school systems and garnered community support in changing unfair policies. They have truly been community organizers in their community. It wasn’t work that they were paid for, but it was work that needed to be done - so they did it.

These are passionate people. So it didn’t surprise me at all that they had views on the election, the economy, and Sarah Palin.

“I read an article recently that says Todd Palin has been complaining about how much time this campaign is taking away from their family life”, said one of the guests.

That was all that was needed before everyone’s blood was boiling and a lively conversation was started. To begin to quote the conversation would both muddle the truth (as I’m lousy as remembering quotes) and take away from my memory of the moment of panic, excitement, and energy. But suffice it to say, everyone had an immediate negative reaction. I do remember that I suggested that the article was a teaser, an opening for her to step down from the race, if the debate went poorly. And I know that anger was expressed at that sentiment - not for the politicality of the move, but for what would inevitably be the fallout for all women, everywhere.

I no longer think Palin should step down from the race. Not because I want her to be Vice President (or worse, President), but because someday, I want some other woman to be Vice President of the United States - and CEO or President of a prestigious company and rabbi of a large congregation and a Supreme Court Chief Justice and Senator - every other job that too many women have been denied because of sexism. If Palin stepped down, and claimed, as frankly maybe she ought to, that the campaign was taking too much time away from her family, I can’t imagine any other female with a family being able to accomplish anything this big again any time soon.

Palin has five children. One is serving in Iraq - a brave and noble thing to do. One is a seventeen-year-old daughter due to give birth in a few months to her own child. And one is a 6-month old with Down Syndrome. Any one of these children is enough to demand full-time attention from a parent, but three? Darn right, the campaign is taking away from her family time. And I’m not honestly sure it is a choice that I would have made. At 40-something years old, if I were in her shoes, I well might have said, “Not this time. Its not the right time for my family, ask me again in 4 or 8 years”.

But I’d still want, and more importantly, deserve, to be asked. To be given the option of deciding whether or not the job and my family was something that I could juggle.

I wouldn’t want the big-wigs in the campaign (or more realistically for other people, in the company) to say, “oh, don’t bother asking her, she’s got children at home”. If Sarah Palin were to step down as even Conservative columnists have suggested, we’d have to begin the fight all over again. Never mind the 30+ years of work that those women around the table on Rosh Hashanah put in. Never mind all the progress that they made. It’ll all go down the drain.

As the conversation drifted from Sarah Palin and national politics to more local politics such as our public schools not always upholding the letter of the law regarding religious holidays, voices changed. Stories that I had never heard began being told. I heard about the petitioning efforts to get public schools to close for the first day of Rosh Hashanah. I heard about the meetings between the Jewish community and town officials to reschedule town events so that they wouldn’t conflict with holidays. In short, I heard about efforts that were taken for me and my peers.

Had someone not done these for me, I’d have grown up forced to decide between my Jewishness and my Americanness. And if we slide backwards on all the strides that have been made, my children may very well be forced to make decisions that I didn’t have to make. Sarah Palin’s candidacy scares me on many levels. But after that conversation, the idea of her recusing her candidacy scares me almost as much.