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Sarah Palin Goes Rogue
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“…If I ever had a chance to serve my fellow citizens, I would do so, and I’d work for the ordinary, hardworking people—like everyone who was a part of my ordinary, hardworking world.”—Sarah Palin, Going Rogue: An American Life
Sarah Palin’s Going Rogue: An American Life, a title she likely chose to pay witty tribute to the occasions when some McCain staffers labeled her “rogue” as a result of her deviation from their pre-determined script, reminds me of the things in life that matter most—family, humor, simplicity, integrity, and the exquisite exhaustion that can only result from a good, hard day’s work or a good, hard run. She begins with a dedication to “all Patriots who share my love of the United States of America…particularly to our women and men in uniform…” The four-hundred and thirteen page autobiographical journey chronicles her Alaskan youth—replete with an adventurous father who instilled both a love of the land and a sense of independence in his four children while mom Sally’s profound faith and reverence for literature ultimately found a home in daughter Sarah’s soul—as well as her ups and downs as a Wasilla City Council member, Mayor, Alaska Governor, and United States Vice Presidential candidate. Engaging facets of her policy, political philosophy, personal challenges, and passionate undertaking to secure a gas pipeline to conduct clean energy to the Lower 48, are illuminated through Palin’s inviting first-person narration that is sometimes whimsical, often confident, and always patriotic.
Palin almost immediately establishes herself as someone who reveres the ideals that she cherishes most—her faith, her family, and her liberty—but who also has a pungent distaste for the hypocrisy of the political machine: “But it seemed that every level of government I encountered was paralyzed by the same politics-as-usual system. I wasn’t wired to play that game” (5). She later echoes a kindred reflection: “…I had to live with my own conscience, so I voted according to my principles and let the chips fall where they may” (66). Palin pledges allegiance to her convictions and both the Alaska and United States constitutions, but not to her party, narrating several instances when she confronted GOP waste and corruption, choosing instead to side with her self-proclaimed “commonsense conservatism”: “At the time, both parties, nationally and locally, were spending uncontrollably. No wonder voters couldn’t tell Republicans from Democrats” (146).
Palin repeatedly honors grassroots movements, from the inspiring grassroots efforts to which she attributes the fortitude of her campaign for Alaska Governor to the loyal supporters who packed McCain-Palin rallies in 2008 to the recent tea parties fighting to limit government intrusion into their homes, health, and businesses. Her love for Alaska is remarkable, and she dedicates numerous passages to the splendor of the land, “rugged individualism” of the Alaskan spirit, and her ultimate decision to resign when countless false ethics allegations—and the outstanding costs, paperwork, and harassment that followed—crippled both her and her office from their rightful duties of serving Alaskans, draining funds that could have been otherwise utilized to preserve and enhance the state she treasures.
A good deal of time is spent clearing up false accusations and reports which many media enclaves deemed it unimportant to correct, and she debunks widespread myths and rumors with the same confident ease with which she unapologetically affirms her American pride. As with most things, Palin isn’t afraid to speak her mind with respect to the media (whose “expert” Palin inside sources like André McLeod and Andrew Halcro are humorously exposed), a handful of McCain staffers (from their insistence that she “Just stick with the script” to their willingness—particularly that of Steve Schmidt—to throw her under the bus when poll numbers didn’t go their way), and Ronald Reagan (whose ideals and “steel spine” she proudly salutes). It’s important to note that Palin never criticizes MCain himself; in fact, she speaks honorably of both the former POW and his wife, as well as pays homage to both Hillary Clinton and Geraldine Ferraro for shattering glass ceilings and solidifying the verity of the strong, political female.
Palin doesn’t victimize herself or her predicaments, but rather calls it like she sees it. My personal favorite is her response to John Kerry’s former declaration that if kids don’t study hard, they will wind up in Iraq: “What a loon, I thought. What an elitist loon” (181). However, the underlying wish that she had been given the chance to speak to the American people more from her own heart, to unleash the confident, daunting spirit she harbors along with the authentic, small-town accent and inner tomboy she’s proud to call her own, can’t help but be brought to life with her uninhibited ruminations. Palin also pays some attention to Couric, including her partisan editing of interview footage without regard for context and well-publicized “What newspapers and magazines did you regularly read…” remark that ironically followed several exchanges between Palin and the Wall Street Journal, Forbes, Investor’s Business Daily, and the Association Press. However, it is ultimately Couric’s commentary regarding the ambiance following the 9/11 attacks (“The whole culture of wearing flags on our lapel and saying ‘we’ when referring to the United States…it was just too jubilant and a little uncomfortable” (279)) that troubled Palin most. Her response? One word: “Unbelievable.” Regardless, Palin is quick to own up to her own shortcomings, including but not limited to the obvious irritation she wore on her sleeve at points in the Couric interview and her early-on decision to support a well-known candidate, rather than Todd’s step-mom Faye Palin for city council, for fear that Faye may not have been well connected enough to defeat the liberal John Stein. She bluntly admits wrongdoing: “…I had let the heat of politics get in the way of family…if you don’t catch yourself: the heat of battle causes a little core of self-centeredness to harden in your heart, so subtly that you’re not even aware of it.” (88)
Although Palin’s testament to free market principles and a solid work ethic, as well as her pro-life commitment and “commonsense conservatism” are compelling, it is her discussions of her profound love for Trig—and the initial fear and inadequacy that accompanied thoughts of that impending challenge—as well as the delivery of her first child Track, that I found most rewarding as a reader. Her portrayal of Track’s delivery is relatable and quite funny: “Since I thought I was dying, I didn’t care that we were in the warehouse part of the hospital. I figured I’d just die there near the delivery trucks” (52). Her humanity and vulnerability soar to great heights with each mention of her son Trig, born with Down syndrome, and her love for him and all children with that particular challenge, provide great insight into the softer side of Sarah Palin we hope we’ll get to see more of.
Going Rogue is truly one of those reads in which you put the book down after your eyes graze the final lines and you somehow feel like the writer is someone you’ve known all your life. Sarah Palin’s passages with respect to her faith, her profound love for Todd as her eternal anchor, and a scattering of witticisms and comical self-evaluations enrich this text with a unique likeability much like the author who gave it life.
Going Rogue isn’t loftily intellectual or ideologically intricate. It’s real. It’s rustic. It’s honest. It’s Sarah.
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