Vote: It’s Your Civic Duty

Yesterday was Tuesday. In Virginia, we went to the polls to vote in our Primary. The elementary school down the road was my setting for democracy in action this primary. A folding table with campaign signs was carefully placed at the predetermined distance from the entrance and volunteers stood at the ready, literature in hand, for any last minute undecided that wandered by.

The process in itself was easy. Three names, fully fill the circle next to your candidate, place face down on the scanner, get your sticker, feel good about yourself, post to Facebook, continue with your day. Regardless of the candidate you picked, you have made your voice heard. You have done your civic duty. And sadly, that’s where it ends for most people, until November.

I know, you’re saying, “But, Josh, I posted 14 memes about my candidate and got blocked from an opposing candidate’s page all before 9:30am!” And, that may be true. If so, eat a bigger breakfast, take a longer walk, and take a break from Facebook in the mornings. You’ll thank me. But that’s not what I’m talking about.

We all know that Drunk Uncle Frank is still going to vote for So-and-so, despite your carefully worded counter-rant to his position on “the gay chemtrails used in Benghazi”. And you’re probably going to keep your stance on your candidate, despite the article your cousin sent you presenting totally real and unphotoshopped proof that your candidate played Twister with Osama bin Laden at his beach house. Social media is to politics as a match is to a meth lab. KABOOM! No bueno! It never ends well. Know why? Of course you do. Because people will say things from a keyboard they’d never in a million lifetimes say to your face. I think that explains Trump’s numbers. He’s a walking, talking, living, breathing Drunk Uncle Frank’s Facebook Page. But I digress.

This civic duty we celebrate, or lament, shouldn’t be like the Olympics. No one cares about Pole-Vaulting or the Biathlon the other 47 months they’re not on. Sorry, pole-vaulting and biathlon community, but it’s true. It’s not something you should just jump on board with and hop back off of after the closing ceremonies.

The stakes are slightly higher than the bragging rights to who can do their sport the best in the world. And in spandex. It should be treated as a celebration to exercise our right to vote and our right to free speech by volunteering and representing our candidate. Interacting with others face to face and getting down to brass tacks is the key to understanding the differences and closing the divides. Driving a wedge is easier than building a bridge but a bridge will be beneficial to both sides in the log run. Canvas your neighborhood. Find out the inner workings of your local party’s campaign headquarters and help people to register to vote despite their affiliation. Attend local party functions and see what issues affect your country, state, principality, town, community, street… I doubt they’ve ever turned down a volunteer and if you can drive people to the polls, the more the merrier.

I met a party chair out in public one day and the next thing you knew, I had a clipboard, a list, a map, and an area of responsibility to visit. My roommate Sarah and I drove to a neighborhood we’d never seen before and just began knocking on doors, asking if they were registered to vote or had voted already. A scant percentage hadn’t registered and a smaller percentage hadn’t voted yet. But, a couple hadn’t gone to vote yet and we ended up being the motivation they needed to drive to the polls. I felt like I’d done more than the bare minimum. I felt like I wanted to do more. And that feeling is alive throughout the process and not just in the sudden death overtime of election day.

I was excited to get up and go vote, yesterday. A friend of mine came and picked me up and helped make sure that my voice was heard. I smiled throughout the entire process because I was proud of making my choice something more than a promise or an idea. I texted and messaged a few people to remind them to go vote and that the polls are open until 7. And then I got an answer to one of those messages.

A young woman whom I used to babysit said she was on her way to vote. Shortly after, I asked her the reason she voted for her candidate. The three little dots appeared as she thought and typed her answer. I was fully prepared to see the campaign catch phrase, the latest slogan, a hashtag, a meme… Instead, I was pleasantly surprised to see a simple yet hopeful answer. She voted her conscience, voted for the candidate she felt is most qualified, the one she says is most consistent and respects the office, the one that most closely represents her views.

The campaign manager of every campaign before or since would give their eye-teeth to be able to bottle and sell that type of endorsement. And from a member of a generation we denigrate and discount as lazy, unrealistic daydreamers. This, from a young millennial raised in rural Southern Virginia. This is the type of thing that should be taught in every civics class. This is your civic duty. To vote an informed ticket, to vote your conscience, and to pass on the respect for that commodity we have and that they all want. Our vote. The vote that free men fought for in the South for generations. The vote that women fought for at the turn of the 20th century. The vote that determines your support for your idea of where America goes now. Whether you voted today, last week, or not until later this month, make your voice heard in as many ways as you can. Politics is a spectator sport, and it’s a hell of a lot more important than pole-vaulting. Sorry again, pole-vaulters. You can go vote, too.

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