In 2004, it's a race of candidates' kids

Life was easier for Vanessa Kerry in November, when her father had been all but written off as a presidential contender. "I could go to a primary state, I could campaign, and I could come back to my life," says the daughter of the Democrats' presumptive nominee.

She was no less fervent back then - just less famous. Now, as Nov. 2 nears, the trickle of parties and press conferences is reaching high tide. These days, Vanessa and her older sister, Alexandra, are briefed on everything from economics to national security. They board planes on a few hours' notice. This week in Boston, Ron Reagan, son of the late president, asked Alexandra: "Do you know how much this process is going to change you?"

Thursday night the Kerry sisters will introduce their father for his acceptance speech at the Democratic National Convention, entering a spotlight that will only get brighter as the election nears. "To be totally candid, I am scared.... I mean, I am," Vanessa says. "This is a big adventure."

It's been called the "Year of the Kid," as candidates' daughters and sons crowd into the public eye, hosting live chats, dominating magazines, and trekking around the country with microphones, banners, and the occasional on-camera thumb in mouth (that was 4-year-old Jack Edwards). The attention lavished on Emma Claire and Jack Edwards has been likened to America's fawning over the progeny of Camelot, Caroline and "John John" Kennedy.

The asset of children is irrefutable: They soften parents' images, and give voters - often younger ones - common ground. But they also bring risk. Unschooled in politicking, naïve to the onslaught of media, they can be magnets for mischief as much as for votes; their smallest gaffes bring fallout.

Still, the children of 2004, at least for now, are undeterred. Many are on their way to pop-culture pages - or are already there. Political scientists say their impact will be minimal - that the electorate votes for issues, not for wives or children. Still, in such a close race, even small factors are magnified. And their fame, however short-lived, may have lasting effects.

"This campaign is tempting fate," says Doug Wead, author of "All the President's Children." "Both families are moving away from the conventional wisdom that their children should be kept under wraps and their lives should be kept private."

Almost always, candidates have brought their kids - or someone's kids - into the political fold. In the 1860s, Ulysses Grant's children gave speeches on the trail. "There's always been the history of candidates surrounding themselves with young children, even strangers' young children, kissing the baby," says historian Carl Sferrazza Anthony, author of "First Ladies."

But more recently, privacy has been the norm. The Clintons fiercely shielded their daughter Chelsea, even in the early campaign days of braces and Laura Ashley dresses. The Bushes did the same. So Barbara and Jenna Bush, recent college graduates, made a splash when they posed in the August issue of Vogue and formally joined their father's campaign.

The Bush-Cheney campaign insists that the choice was the daughters' own, "something they actually approached their parents about," says Susan Whitson, deputy communications director. Others suggest the Heinz/Kerry alliance, with five children from two marriages, may have played a role. That "Brady Bunch" clan of three sons, two daughters, divorce, widowhood, and remarriage, says Mr. Wead, is a powerful force.

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