My American Voting Experience

My son turned 18 this year, and is about to vote for the first time, so naturally I started thinking about my own voting experience.  I didn’t grow up in a home where I recall politics being discussed openly like it is in my children’s home.  Maybe it was because my parents were divorced when I was very young, and so these conversations never happened. I’m prone to think it is because my parents came from an age where your politics were considered private, and you just didn’t discuss it. If I had to venture a guess, I would have said my Dad was a Republican and my mom was a Democrat. Although, if you asked me now, I’d tell you exactly the opposite. Technically I think my dad may be a Libertarian now, but that’s a whole other ballgame. I have heard others speak about their own experiences and how they “switched teams” as they grew older. I’ve often wondered about the process that takes place, in order for that to happen. My own positions have never changed, but my political thinking has evolved significantly over the years. In some ways I miss the optimism of my young voter self, and in others I despise the naiveté of her ideology.

The year I became a member of the voting world was a Presidential election year. I recall primaries where a young Al Gore caught my attention. I laugh now, because this “young” man was around the age I am now. His age was of particular significance to me though, because in my lifetime it seemed only old decrypted men were Presidents, and I idealistically believed that youth would make a man a better choice. I don’t recall knowing too much else about him at the time. I was disappointed when he didn’t win the primaries (which I couldn’t vote in). Beyond this, I don’t have any recollection of how I actually voted, But I DO have a recollection of why I didn’t get to vote in the primaries, and it is probably the first lesson I learned.

Eighteen. Young, inexperienced, hopeful, on my own. Ah! Sweet adulthood. I was approached, somewhere, and given the opportunity to register.  Because I was so full of idealistic hope, when it came time to select a party affiliation I wanted to be sure that I didn’t get pigeon-holed into a specific party, like the “old folks” did. *I* was an open-minded young voter of the future. I selected American Independent, because I was, after all, an American, and I wanted to be Independent. To be fair and in my defense, there weren’t as many third party choices back then, my government teacher never even covered what a third party was. I had no idea they existed. Also, there weren’t those little notes next to the party affiliations like there are now. Obviously I must not have been the only idiot to make this mistake, since now the paperwork is much clearer…right? So, needless to say, when it came time to vote in the primaries, I wasn’t allowed to vote for that young man, because he was not my party’s choice. It’s embarrassing to say that this had to be explained to me by some blue haired woman at our voting location. But she kindly explained what had happened, and gave me the paperwork to change it, explaining that I needed to instead state “undeclared” or some such, which I believe you had to write in at the time. Ok. Crisis somewhat averted. First lesson learned.

Now we entered the election, and in addition to electing my representatives and a President, there are a number of Propositional issues to grapple with, something else I don’t recall learning anything about in High School. I’m not actually sure I learned anything useful in that class come to think of it.  A barrage of “vote yes on”/ “vote no on” commercials hit the airwaves. In most cases I felt like I had a pretty clear understanding of how I wanted to vote. But in one particular area I was having some trouble understanding the measure. So, I did what I think most young people do, I turned to my father and asked him. My father's response surprised me, still surprises me, and was so profound it has influenced my voting choices from that point forward more than any political or personal experience. His response was,

"I voted 'No' on that one."

"Ok. Why?"

"I didn't know what it was."

                I was truly dumbfounded. The idea that a 'no' vote was the same as an abstaining vote was ludicrous. Why would he make a conscious vote against something, when what he really meant was, " I don't know." Or "I don't care?" Clearly someone cared enough to jump through all the hoops to put it up for a vote. It mattered to someone, even if it didn't matter to him personally. And a "no" vote counted. It counted against it. It counted as though an opinion had been formed, not as though he didn't care or didn't understand. My second lesson was learned.

                From that point on I decided I would never vote without being informed at least minimally on as many issues as possible. And Oh Boy!-- is there a lot of  information out there. Every day for months political flyers have been crammed into my mailbox. My TV and radio have been caught in an onslaught of political smear ads as well as programs aimed at "meeting the candidate" or "discussing the issues." Of course the real trick is sorting out the truth from the self-serving propaganda. And that's where most Americans get stuck.

                As a young voter I was an idealist. My vote counted. It mattered to the free world which hole I punched;  what choice I made. As an adult voter I am less enthusiastic. My choices seem limited and buried in lies. I have become frustrated with the whole process and everyone involved. I'm ready, like so many other Americans, to just throw in the towel and call it quits. My vote is just one in millions, meaningless, negated by someone else's-- by someone who didn't take all the time and energy to become informed; by someone who just voted the way their spouse or parent did; by someone who voted the way the guy on the radio told them to; or someone who voted 'no' because they didn't know what the measure was really all about.  It just seems like such a frustrating waste of time. Why not just skip it? It's not like my vote matters.

                And here lies the true flaw in the American voting experience. Voting is a not a privilege. Voting is not a right. I hear it all the time and while at heart these things are true, they are not the entire truth. Voting is my obligation. Voting is the responsibility of every American citizen. Voting is not a candy dish. We cannot just say "no thank you" because it's not the kind we like, or because we are on a diet, or because hard candy makes our teeth hurt. As an American it is my duty to stand up and make a declaration on my freedoms. Whatever that statement may be I am required to make it.  I may be unhappy with the results of an election, but I may never just pass on the opportunity to participate.

                Abstaining from a vote is a grave choice, not to be done because one is too lazy, or too busy, or too frustrated with the system. Abstaining from a vote is an actual conscious choice to not be heard-- to say nothing and accept the consequences. It is not a form of protest. It is the complete antithesis of a protest.  It is whispering in an empty, soundproof room. The one true guarantee that your vote won't count, is if you can't be bothered to show up and cast it. No one will care that you are angry with the direction our country is moving or the limited choices of liars and fools, because no one will hear you.  

                Like all obligations, voting is hard and the rewards are not always clearly evident.  It's hard at the end of a day to come home from work and prepare a healthy sit-down meal for my family. There is a lot of work involved. I have to pre-plan what we will have. I have to go to the grocery store and purchase what I need. I have to remember to defrost something in the morning before I leave. I have to be sure there are clean dishes to serve it on, assemble and cook it,  and I have the responsibility of cleaning the mess up afterward.  In the end I may feel there wasn't a lot to show for all my efforts. In the end, the people at my table may not thank me. They may not have liked my choice of what we had for dinner. They may have preferred McDonalds in front of the TV. And what the hell, McDonalds is fast and cheap and lacks all the effort of pre-planning and preparation. But my family can't survive off McDonalds every day. They won't be healthy. We won't have that opportunity to come together at our table and discuss our individual lives. And eventually we may become dangerously ill, with irreversible, detrimental damage to our body systems.

                Being a voter means being an informed voter. It means finding as much unadulterated fact as possible and making as unbiased a choice as possible. It means doing the prep work ahead of time. And that's not always easy . It will require more than accepting what is served to me on TV or through my mailbox. I have to invest in the decisions I am making, by knowing what is being asked of me. I have to *gasp* read the nifty voter's pamphlet that is so kindly assembled for me with basic, factual, explanations of the measures being presented. I may even have to read the text of the measure as it is given to me in that booklet and decide for myself what it means. I may have to research the candidates. I may have to use my computer for something other than Facebook and email and I may have to go find information about a candidate--view his website, read about her history in both the political and non-political world. I may have to sort out the fact from the propaganda for myself. My vote doesn't just count. My vote is consequential and essential, because as an American  voter, I am making a commitment to the decision I make. When I step into that little curtained booth I am not alone.  I make my voice heard as a part of a chorus of voices. When I vote I am not just exercising my rights and privileges.  I am accepting the responsibility of freedom.

                A long time ago people waged a war and died in their own backyard so that I could have a say what happens in my country. I'm not sure I could do that today. And I am grateful I don't have to. All I have to do is show up and cast a vote. Whatever your opinions; whatever your party affiliation; whether you are conservative, moderate, liberal, or a complete anarchist; whether you have identified yourself that way, or been pigeon-holed by someone else-- be factually informed and make your voice heard. Step up and take your turn holding the flag of freedom. It is our duty as free Americans.