Voting

G’ma worked the polls at every election.  She sat behind a long cafeteria table in the gymnasium, greeting voters as they came to cast their ballots.  School Board members, tax overrides, general elections and mid-terms, there she sat.

Daddooooo and I would bring her dinner; the polls were open long past the time her stomach began growling.  I would look at the black curtains surrounding the voting booths and feel the power of the franchise.  Something secret and sacred and profound was going on behind those drapes.

She took me inside their confines when it was time for her to cast her ballot.We pulled down on heavy metal levers, reminiscent of the keys on our old manual typewriter.  They made a decisive click.  Our choices were registered with authority.

I could hardly wait to be on my own, to make my own voice heard.

And so I grew up to vote for loser after loser.  I cast my ballot for those I wanted to win, not those who had a chance to succeed.  John Anderson.  Ralph Nader.  Third party candidates whose positions were less unpalatable than those of the major parties.  No, Al Gore, Mr. Nader did not steal a vote that would have gone to you.  You lost my vote by performing poorly.  It wasn’t yours, it was mine.

I took my kids into the booths with me as soon as they could walk.  I let them fill in the circles, using the black marker tied to the plastic folding booth, with hard sides but no curtain protecting my privacy.  We whispered about each decision.  Sometimes, I cried.

As I got older, I voted for candidates who would win so that their opponents would not gain power.  I held my nose and voted for Mrs. Clinton only because, as a New Yorker, I knew the foolishness that was the real DJT.  I’ll vote against Martha McSally even though her opponent leans farther right than a former radical Democrat ought to lean.  I’ll sigh as I peruse the names and realize that there are very few of them that excite me.

Yet, I vote.  For everything on the ballot, I have a response.  I’m willing to pay a bit more in taxes so that the roads can be repaired.  I’ll protect our public schools by voting against expanding vouchers.  I researched the Corporation Commission’s role and found two woman who seem to have my interests at heart.

Will anything I care about carry the day?  I hope that I can smile as Steve Kornacki jumps around the MSNBC sound stage.  But the results won't change my behavior in the long term; I’ll always vote.

Like FlapJilly told her mother, after waiting for an hour, in a long and winding line, in a dark and dreary brown building: “Mama, my favorite thing is not Barnes and Opal, not Urban Swirl for ice cream, it’s VOTING!!!”