A shy Kennedy risks normalcy for the fray
WASHINGTON - Caroline Kennedy has something that only some of her famous relatives can claim: a sense of balance in her life.
Handed one of the most complicated legacies in American history, a plate of options that included wealth, power, glamour, celebrity, and notoriety, she veered toward something closer to normality.
She earned a law degree and co-wrote books for children about the Constitution, giving her a sense of accomplishment without the burden of an all-consuming career. She lent her name to nonprofit groups promoting civil rights and women's issues, but stopped short of becoming an activist. She assumed the chairmanship of the John F. Kennedy Library Foundation, preserving her family history, but chose not to trade on it for any personal goal or ambition.
Her decision to raise her three children outside the spotlight was reminiscent of her mother's, but unlike the glamorous, globe-trotting Jacqueline Kennedy, Caroline stayed out of the society columns.
For the 51-year-old Caroline - born into fame, buffeted by tragedies - living an unspectacular life must feel like a triumph. She has avoided all the pitfalls that snagged other celebrity children, including some of her cousins. She is arguably the most famous person in America to be living such a quiet, unseen existence without becoming a recluse.
It is hard now to remember how heated the Kennedy love - and, for some people, Kennedy hatred - was in the late '60s and '70s, when Caroline was growing up. She was enough of an object of contemplation that Neil Diamond wrote his weirdly melancholy "Sweet Caroline" ("good times never seemed so good") about her when she was 11.
But now she is suddenly ready to risk all of her hard-earned privacy by entering politics. After considering the matter for several weeks, Kennedy informed New York Governor David Paterson that she is actively interested in the Senate seat being vacated by Hillary Clinton, according to reports yesterday. If appointed by Paterson to fill the seat temporarily, she'd then have to run on her own in a special election.
As a longtime New York resident, Kennedy is less of an interloper than Clinton was, or even her own Uncle Bobby, when he moved to the Big Apple to seek the same seat back in 1964. But Clinton and Robert Kennedy weren't living quiet lives before seeking the Senate. Far from it. Though both were, like Caroline, presidential relatives, they were also people with a lifelong interest in politics.
The same can't really be said of Caroline, whose shyness is visible whenever she stands behind a lectern. And, it should be noted, none of her low-key activities - from book writing to charity work and occasional appearances on behalf of Democratic candidates - have revealed special political abilities. In fact, her most striking qualities - a sense of dignity and self-awareness - are sure to be challenged by the pressures of political life.
So successful has she been at avoiding attention that her decision to endorse Barack Obama for president last winter seemed less the act of a politician than that of any other upscale suburbanite shaken out of her cocoon by anger at the Bush administration and enthusiasm for Obama. But a closer reading of her endorsement, made in an op-ed piece she wrote in The New York Times and titled "A President Like My Father," suggests more complex motives.
"My reasons are patriotic, political and personal, and the three are intertwined," she wrote. "All my life, people have told me that my father changed their lives, that they got involved in public service or politics because he asked them to. And the generation he inspired has passed that spirit on to its children. I meet young people who were born long after John F. Kennedy was president, yet who ask me how to live out his ideals.
"Sometimes it takes awhile to recognize that someone has a special ability to get us to believe in ourselves, to tie that belief to our highest ideals and imagine that together we can do great things. In those rare moments, when such a person comes along, we need to put aside our plans and reach for what we know is possible."
Now, it seems, Caroline Kennedy is casting her own plans aside and entering the fray. And there are far worse credentials for leadership than the ability to achieve balance amid chaos. But it's painful to think that she may be trading her hard-earned right to a normal life for a birthright that may not be as gratifying.
Peter S. Canellos is the Globe's Washington bureau chief. National Perspective is his weekly analysis of events in the capital and beyond. He can be reached at canellos@globe.com ![]()