6:15a
I took my ballot, mumbled thank you, walked 10 steps and then … paused.
I vividly remember the awe of casting my first presidential vote in 1992. In my bones, I knew that through my vote for Bill Clinton I had a chance to speak and be heard about the world around me. My vote meant something - to me. I waited anxiously to hear who would win the election and remember dancing in my seat when Clinton was announced the winner. Then in 1994, I voted by absentee ballot while in Morocco - removed as much from the process as from the hoopla. I didn’t hear who had won the election until a few days later. But, you know what? It still mattered.But somewhere along the road, I began to feel disenfranchised. It was a gradual process for sure. First, I started voting because I didn’t want the other person to win, not because I believed in someone and his political stance. And then, after one too many, like many people, I lost faith.For the past 8 years, I’ve voted out of obligation. Physically, I have shown up for every single election since then - even the tiny municipal ones. But it was something I rushed home from work to do before the polls closed or did early in the morning. There was nothing magical about it. I abhorred being asked if I had voted because it meant so little.
Deep down, I missed the beauty of my first election. I missed the feeling that comes from being so excited about a candidate that I couldn’t wait to get to the polls. I missed my heart palpating a little bit faster because I knew that I got to vote. I wanted to feel that way again. I did. I paid attention. I read/debated/wrote about politics. But it just wasn’t there.
So I watched West Wing and dreamed of the day when Josiah Bartlet would become our president.
On Tuesday, in that moment, outside that booth, I felt the momentous of it - deep in my bones.
We are blessed, I think, with 2 amazing candidates - one I have loved since the ’90s and one that I have fallen in love with over the past year or so. Two inspiring candidates that I believe would make fine presidents. And there lies the crux. Choosing between the two of them is not an easy task. I have, in fact, vacillated on a daily basis on who is most likely to win, who speaks to me the most, and who I want to follow. I don’t know an easy answer and I’m not sure there is one. And I’m not sure I want to make that decision. There is a part of me that wishes we could spread out their candidacy to two different elections. But life doesn’t work that way.
And so I paused. I’ll be honest, I didn’t know who to vote for when I walked up to that booth. Would I regret not being able to say to my niece and nephew that I voted for the other?
The truth is that I am exhausted by the partisan rancor that is raging around us. I long for this country to be healed. I long for us to heal our relationships with other countries. I long for us to stop judging people based on their religion and whether someone might or might not be Muslim. I long for us to bring back with honor and glory the people who have chosen to put their lives at risk for a meaningless war.
I stared at the two names on my ballot. Drew a deep breath and marked it. Ultimately, I voted with my heart.
I voted for Hillary.
Post a Comment