Party at the Polls

The middle school in town was a surprisingly hopping place at 6:08 AM when I went in to vote. Who woudla thought. Not just business people stopping by before the long commute into the city, either. It was heartening.

There does seem to be some excitement with this election, a feeling of change in the air. Regime change begins at home, after all.

An election shouldn't have to be exciting or controversial to get people to the polls, though. It's our privilege and responsibility to vote. I usually take at least one of the kids with me and sometimes let them fill in a bubble or two. A friend of mine recalls being ushered through the snow in northern Vermont by her mother to get to the polls; her mother setting the example that one votes when an election is held, period.

I had this notion drilled into my head from an early age, too. I know exactly the look my father's face would have if I did NOT vote. As it is, I know he's looking down on me, watching me vote for members of the other political party and thinking, "At least she voted." With a heavy sigh.

Last spring in the town elections, I almost didn't vote. We were doing some house and yard work and completely forgot about it, until someone called to remind us. I rushed and made it with about ten minutes to spare. Later the next day, I learned that an acquaintance who was a candidate for library trustee was won her spot by two votes. Two. Votes.

As much as I believed in voting before last spring, and made the effort to vote in every possible election, it was that election that drove it home for me. My vote counts.

So does everyone's.

And that's just really cool.