My Professional Association Put Me on the Presidential Ballot—But I Had Never Agreed to Run
PART 2
Ben called back twenty-three minutes later.
“I found the nomination folder,” he said. “There’s no acceptance form from you.”
Nora stopped in the hallway outside Ballroom B.
“Is there supposed to be one?”
“Normally, yes. We have one from Greg and one from Diane.”
“What do you have for me?”
“An email chain from Elaine. It says you agreed to serve.”
“Serve where?”
Ben was quiet long enough to answer the question.
“Member engagement.”
Nora closed her eyes.
“Anything that says president?”
“No.”
“Anything from me after August twenty-second?”
“No.”
“Then please do not treat my name as confirmed while we sort this out.”
“I’ll flag it.”
“Flag it how?”
“As pending.”
“That is better than confirmed.”
She ended the call and found Elaine waiting near the escalators.
Elaine was sixty-one, silver-haired, elegant in the way some women became after deciding that every jacket they owned should fit perfectly. She had chaired the nominating committee for four years and had spent most of the morning greeting members by name.
“Nora,” she said warmly. “I knew the ribbon would get your attention.”
“It did.”
Elaine smiled. “Before you panic, nobody expects you to run a campaign.”
“I’m not panicking. I’m asking why I’m on the ballot.”
“We needed a full slate.”
“That is not the same as needing me.”
“You said you were willing to help.”
“On member engagement.”
Elaine tilted her head. “You also said wherever needed.”
“Within the committee. My email says that.”
A flicker of impatience crossed Elaine’s face.
“We can fix wording. This does not have to become a thing.”
Nora held out the ballot preview.
“My name is already a thing.”
Elaine lowered her voice.
“You would be very good for the association. People trust you. You don’t inflame people. You understand both sides.”
“I have not agreed to run.”
“Then let’s talk before you decide.”
Nora looked at her.
“I thought the deciding was supposed to happen before the ballot.”
Elaine did not answer.
At lunch, Nora opened the conference app to check the candidate forum time.
A profile had been added under her name.
Nora Whitaker brings twenty-five years of learning leadership and a commitment to continuity through change.
She had never written those words.
At the bottom was a professional headshot she had emailed the association three weeks earlier after Elaine asked for “updated committee materials.”
Nora stared at the date on the photo request.
September 14.
Her name had not appeared on any ballot until today.
But somebody had been preparing her candidacy for weeks.
