I am making an effort to blog at least once a week. I am doing a lot of writing otherwise and should make this a discipline. I've found myself in situations thinking, "I'd really like to blog about that." So, friends, here it goes (again). *good luck getting this out of your head*
Cue John Mellancamp (Cougar? No Cougar? Who can be sure?)
I was born in a small town...
My first experience voting was making the pilgrimage to the basement of the Upper Sandusky Library. It was the primaries before the 2004 election, and I was allowed to vote before I was 18. It was exciting. I wore my sticker proudly.
Through college I dutifully drove home each time there was a vote. I even drove to Marseilles to vote in the fire station with two people working the polls. I was raised to understand that my vote counted, and after living through (albeit not old enough to vote in) the 2000 election, I took my rite to vote seriously.
Fast forward to 2012.
I read a blog post in which a man (white and most likely middle aged) called himself entitled to vote. I was upset... ok, enraged, actually... I have sat through enough classes (thanks, Dr. Person and Dr. Lobody) to know that the right to vote was hard earned by many groups of people. As a woman, I especially loved taking a class in seminary on the Social Gospel Movement, learning the stories of suffragettes who I now hold as mothers of the faith. The tireless work of many have earned the right to vote for the masses.
So as my partner and I drove to the early voting center here in Columbus, I was happy to live into my right to vote. I trudged through the shouters, politely smiled at my political party's offer of a sample ballot, and took my place in the line at the abandoned Kohl's to cast my ballot.
And, as is tradition, I received my "I *shape of Ohio meant to look like a heart*
I'm glad I waited, because today, watching the news coverage of people standing out in the blustery air waiting to vote, I found myself missing the days of catching up with neighbors while waiting for the red, white, and blue striped curtain to open in the voting booth. I voted early because this is my first presidential election living in the Capitol City of THE swing state. Yes, I know you're jealous.
But regardless, I count myself honored (not entitled) to have cast a ballot in this election. I hope you'll do the same, whether you're walking into the fire station of a one stop sign town or standing in a line wrapped around the city block. Exercise your right. Vote.