In October 2012 I wrote most of what follows as the Obama/Romney election drew near. I am updating it for 2020 with just a few tweaks. For example, then I said I didn't like the new idea of mail-in ballots. Now I love voting at home. And this year, with the Covid 19 pandemic raging, there will be more mail-in voting in more states than ever before. I also thought that 2012 was a very important election, and of course it was. They all are. But nothing in my lifetime compares to 2020.
The hyperbolic declaration of "the most important election in our lifetime" finally lives up to the hype. This is definitely it. Our United States is anything but united and our Republic is in a world of hurt, as the tether to anything resembling democracy hangs by an ever thinning thread. The current president, elected by the Electoral College -- not the majority of the people, has snubbed his nose at norms, values, laws, precedents, and the very Constitution, abetted by leaders of the Republican party such that we are now seen as pitiable by many countries, not mighty. Our allies have gone silent, our enemies emboldened, our people violently divided. Many of us feel we've been living with an immature, cruel, gaslighting, lying, psychologically abusing president and those who should be there to stop him and protect us have turned a blind eye at best, aided him at worst. Yes. This is important.
My ballot arrived on Friday and I voted, as I did in 2012 when I wrote the original version of this post, but this time I sent up an extra prayer to go along with my sacred ritual.
THE SACRAMENT:
We are 16 days away from the 2020 Presidential election. Everybody is pretty much sick of politics at this point. Me included, even though presidential election years are like Mardi Gras to me. Spectacle, tradition, ritual, absurdity, and at base deeply important – even “religious”. I treat voting like a Sacrament.
Our state went to an all mail-in ballot voting system in 2011. At first I didn't like it because I had loved going to the polls on Election Day. It was high school civics class come to life. My polling place was the local elementary school where my boys were students. I saw familiar kids, teachers, neighbors, and poll-workers – a true sense of community. I loved being handed my ballot and walking to the booth to cast my votes amid the hubbub of activity around me in the school cafeteria. It reminded me why I was voting at all. I loved getting my “I VOTED” sticker, which I wore proudly the rest of the day, like ashes on my forehead.
Now I have a different voting experience. My ballot arrives in the mail about 2 weeks before the election. I don’t open it until the day I set aside for voting. At that point I sit at the dining room table with my Voter’s Pamphlet and a cup of coffee. I become quiet, focused, and intent on making my final decisions. I might read once more about each initiative, the “for” and “against” arguments. I might read once more the candidates statements. And then I fill in the bubble next to the name of the one I’ve chosen to vote for with great care, ensuring the little oval is completely filled in with no extraneous marks. I feel like the altar guild ladies preparing for communion. Everything just so. Because I want to be sure my vote will count – no errors. Then I put the ballot in the envelope and sign my name carefully where indicated. Instead of mailing it, which I could, I drive to County Building Dropbox downtown, to slide my envelope into the slot, ensuing my vote is delivered by my own hand. Amen.
This may sound seriously neurotic. To me it feels seriously patriotic. Voting is a right, a responsibility, and above all, a privilege. I think it is the most amazing thing, this representative form of government of ours. It’s broken now, I know that. Money, lies, betrayals, foreign attacks, gerrymandering, voter suppression, apathy, cynicism…it’s all in stark evidence this year. That makes me sad for our country, for our democracy. But I won’t give up. I still believe my vote counts. The only way we lose this grand experiment, this model of democracy that people in other lands are literally dying to emulate, is to stop voting.
My vote is my prayer of thanks for our nation's flawed, but visionary founders; for those soldiers who fought for independence and freedom; for the women who marched and were jailed and tortured to win me, their sister, the right to cast a ballot alongside men; for the Freedom Riders who stood shoulder to shoulder with their brothers and sisters to desegregate the south and eventually win the right to vote for all. Our history is about preserving – and serving – this big, messy, majestic United States of America.
My vote is also my prayer for hope for the future. It really does matter who is in the White House and what that person’s vision and leadership will manifest. It really does matter who is in the Congress and whether their positions on issues, which will become the laws we must all obey, are those which will benefit all Americans. It really does matter who sits on the Supreme Court and is the final arbiter of dispute, interpretation, and enactment of those laws. Our vote is our voice, representing our values and world view. Who we vote for says almost everything about who we are and what vision we hold for future generations.
How can we do anything less than to cast a vote for those who are most likely to embrace the inherent dignity of every person within our borders and set policy that will respect, uplift, and benefit every one of us? How can we do anything less than to take this right seriously, cast our vote joyfully, and shout “Halleluja!” on Election Day? 🙏🏽🇺🇸
Our state went to an all mail-in ballot voting system in 2011. At first I didn't like it because I had loved going to the polls on Election Day. It was high school civics class come to life. My polling place was the local elementary school where my boys were students. I saw familiar kids, teachers, neighbors, and poll-workers – a true sense of community. I loved being handed my ballot and walking to the booth to cast my votes amid the hubbub of activity around me in the school cafeteria. It reminded me why I was voting at all. I loved getting my “I VOTED” sticker, which I wore proudly the rest of the day, like ashes on my forehead.
Now I have a different voting experience. My ballot arrives in the mail about 2 weeks before the election. I don’t open it until the day I set aside for voting. At that point I sit at the dining room table with my Voter’s Pamphlet and a cup of coffee. I become quiet, focused, and intent on making my final decisions. I might read once more about each initiative, the “for” and “against” arguments. I might read once more the candidates statements. And then I fill in the bubble next to the name of the one I’ve chosen to vote for with great care, ensuring the little oval is completely filled in with no extraneous marks. I feel like the altar guild ladies preparing for communion. Everything just so. Because I want to be sure my vote will count – no errors. Then I put the ballot in the envelope and sign my name carefully where indicated. Instead of mailing it, which I could, I drive to County Building Dropbox downtown, to slide my envelope into the slot, ensuing my vote is delivered by my own hand. Amen.
This may sound seriously neurotic. To me it feels seriously patriotic. Voting is a right, a responsibility, and above all, a privilege. I think it is the most amazing thing, this representative form of government of ours. It’s broken now, I know that. Money, lies, betrayals, foreign attacks, gerrymandering, voter suppression, apathy, cynicism…it’s all in stark evidence this year. That makes me sad for our country, for our democracy. But I won’t give up. I still believe my vote counts. The only way we lose this grand experiment, this model of democracy that people in other lands are literally dying to emulate, is to stop voting.
My vote is my prayer of thanks for our nation's flawed, but visionary founders; for those soldiers who fought for independence and freedom; for the women who marched and were jailed and tortured to win me, their sister, the right to cast a ballot alongside men; for the Freedom Riders who stood shoulder to shoulder with their brothers and sisters to desegregate the south and eventually win the right to vote for all. Our history is about preserving – and serving – this big, messy, majestic United States of America.
My vote is also my prayer for hope for the future. It really does matter who is in the White House and what that person’s vision and leadership will manifest. It really does matter who is in the Congress and whether their positions on issues, which will become the laws we must all obey, are those which will benefit all Americans. It really does matter who sits on the Supreme Court and is the final arbiter of dispute, interpretation, and enactment of those laws. Our vote is our voice, representing our values and world view. Who we vote for says almost everything about who we are and what vision we hold for future generations.
How can we do anything less than to cast a vote for those who are most likely to embrace the inherent dignity of every person within our borders and set policy that will respect, uplift, and benefit every one of us? How can we do anything less than to take this right seriously, cast our vote joyfully, and shout “Halleluja!” on Election Day? 🙏🏽🇺🇸
At least, that’s the view from here…©
Photo Credit: www.pixabay.com
That’s exactly what I did in Florida...dropped it at my election headquarters in person...no waiting..now I just need to verify they counted it and keep my fingers crossed that we can get back to normal.
ReplyDeleteMy husband took our ballots to the library (early voting station) yesterday, and brought me my "I voted" sticker. Good luck to us all!
ReplyDelete