It was November 1988, and I had just turned 18. I was one of
the few in my senior class who had reached that milestone and was now eligible
to vote in the presidential election. It was a big deal. Making it even bigger
was the fact that I entered and won an essay contest, sponsored by my hometown
newspaper, related to the election. I won something like $200, but more
importantly, the win launched my journalism career. I would spend the next
three summers working at the newspaper and finding my life’s calling.
I remember feeling so grown up because I could vote, like I
was finally a legitimate member of the adult world. Someone somewhere counted
my vote, and it mattered. I mattered. I had a voice. At last. How must I have
looked to the election officials? I imagine my eyes were literally wide with
wonder and excitement. “Ah,” they must have thought, “so young and naïve.”
Now I’m preparing to vote in my seventh presidential
election. The wonder and excitement are long gone. Now I must choose between
two candidates who don’t come close to representing me, let alone inspiring me.
I can’t, in good faith, cast my vote for either, and I seriously considered not
voting at all. I researched, read, and prayed and was eventually persuaded that
not voting at all is a bigger threat to the conscience than voting for someone
in whom I have no confidence. So, OK, I’ll vote, but it will be a jaded,
skeptical vote, not a wide-eyed hopeful vote.
In some of the reading I did, I found an interesting point.
Most of us agree that voting is our civic duty, but one writer argued that
voting is actually the most minimal part of our duty. We should also be
involved in raising up the kind of people we could get excited about and training and encouraging them to lead.
That we need to play a role in local politics and getting people on the ballots
who we can believe in. The bottom
line was this: If we choose to opt out of the preparation process, we don’t get
to complain when we’re faced with two bad choices during the election process.
I’ll admit that I’ve been the complainer in the past several
presidential contests. Other than showing up to vote for major elections, my
strategy for engaging with the political process has been to stay as far away
from it as possible. I’ve never dialogued with someone considering a run for
office, never been to a local caucus. I’ve never actively campaigned for any
candidate—assuming my son’s recent run for student council doesn’t count.
I don’t know that I’m going to make a radical change in my
life based on this information, but I do have a new awareness of my own
culpability in the political process. The satisfaction I experienced during
that ’88 presidential election may not be realized again, but I pray that some
time before my voting days are through, I will find some candidate at some
level that I can believe in and crusade for.
