It was November 7, 2000. I was to my polling place early; I might have been the first one there, actually. I'm sure it was cold, although I can't remember. I was focused and alert. That's how I always am the first time I do something.
It's not like the first time I ate raw fish or when I lost my virginity. This was much bigger. I was 24 years old and I was voting for the first time in my life.
If there is one thing Americans are ridiculous bullies about, it's voting. The idea that a person doesn't immediately cast a ballot somewhere on their 18th birthday inspires a bizarre, almost violent reaction. I've stood and listened while people berated me for not voting, saying that I had no right to "complain" if I didn't cast my vote. This has become a buzz phrase, used by The Voting Police. Never mind that I was never "complaining" when these comments were made. I stopped trying to explain things to people because it seems that someone not voting turns Americans instantly into tyrants of the worst kind.
The truth is, I was raised by two people who truly believe that the system is a pile of schlocka. Voting was participation in the system and by participating in the system, we're putting our faith in the system. I'd like to say my parents were super cool anarchists but it was all religious.
I have to say, I agreed with them for 24 years. My father was always quick to point out when the system was failing, making us watch hours of C-Span and other boring crap to prove his point. I took the religion out of the equation and started reading anarchist literature when I was a teenager. Yes, government that governs least or not at all is best. I wasn't too keen on making homemade bombs, however. Over time, I began to see that anarchy is also a system and it's terribly flawed, just like every other system. But I did enjoy seeing punk shows in the basement of the Anarchist Community Center. You heard me.
My non-political stances somehow became political. For example, I'm ferociously committed to making sure every woman in this country is allowed to make her own decisions about her reproductive health. I also believe that the death penalty is racist, homophobic and I'm just not comfortable with redneck asshole governors in places like Texas making decisions about who to kill. I believe gays should have the right to marry, with all the same benefits that any married couple is afforded. I believe marijuana should be legal. I believe Dick Cheney has been dead for years and they've just be wheeling around a wax figure to fool us.
So the United States political system takes all my beliefs, adds them up, divides by 1776, adding variables for slavery reparations and all those covers I paid at The Gay 90s in my 20s and I am given a t-shirt that says "Democrat." When I registered to vote in 2000, I had to tell the state of Minnesota what my party affiliation was. I sat there for a good 30 minutes, physically unable to bring myself to select any of the choices. Why is that important? Why must I answer this question? Does it make you feel more comfortable if you have a pretty good idea how I'm going to vote before I cast my ballot?
In 2000, I decided that I must vote if only to keep George out of the goddamn White House. I wasn't a big fan of Gore and I was even less of a fan of Joe Lieberman. God, I hate Joe Lieberman. I hate anyone who switches parties just to increase his chances of winning. What an asshole. But I felt it was important that I tell the world that I'd sooner elect Gary Busey via write-in than sit and watch Bush get elected. So I showed up, filled in some ovals and got my sticker.
Then I watched the biggest political clusterfuck in the history of the United States happen.
I was horrified watching the news and hearing stories about older people, poor people and people of color being turned away from the polls; random boxes of uncounted ballots being found hidden in weird places; hanging fucking chads and an election that came down to who had the biggest assholes pulling strings for them. At one point, I broke down and cried. I cried because against everything I had been taught, I put my faith in the system and it didn't matter. Not one bit. In the end, I had been played. We all had.
This is what so many people had been pressuring me to participate in? It was a farce, an absolute joke. I felt betrayed by my own country. 4 years later, when I stood in line to vote for John Kerry, it meant nothing to me. It was something I did because I felt I had to.
Then something occurred to me. Why in God's name was I voting for people? In general, I don't like people. Politicians are slimy and they say whatever we want to hear to get elected. It became clear to me that I needed to vote for issues. There are things that are extremely important to me that are politically charged, whether or not I like it. It doesn't feel right to me not to stand up for the things I believe in. If I don't, I won't be me.
I continue to vote and I vote for issues. I don't vote for parties or people; I vote for the things that I have a stake in and I vote for communities. I cast my ballot for the things I know are right and I know that I'm right. I never question my convictions.
But we need to stop judging and bullying people for not voting. It's one thing if a person doesn't vote because they're lazy but that also means they have bigger issues (let's be real). But when you meet someone who doesn't vote, before you get all self-righteous and indignant about what you think they should be doing, consider that not everyone thinks and acts the way you do. You don't know what beliefs that person holds or what kinds of experiences they've had with the system. And the next time you think that someone who doesn't vote has no right to express their opinions about how this country is run (I believe you call it "complaining"), know that you are 100% wrong. Not only are you wrong but you are exceedingly arrogant. Do you really think it's OK for you to silence anyone? That's pretty scary.
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