Yes, I do vote in political elections, and when I truly believe in a candidate, I even participate in campaigns. Let’s get that out of the way. I’m voting in the upcoming national and local elections (May 12), and I’m actively endorsing my favorite candidates as well.
Even though I’m soured by the last presidential election results, even though I’m further frustrated by how they currently impact the status of my country, even though I don’t have a lot of confidence in the process, even if I don’t trust the characters in charge of the polls… I’m still going to vote on the off-chance that the right thing happens for a change.
I must admit that there came a point when I gave up on the process. I thought most of the voters were ignorant or corrupted, and all of the candidates at that time were corrupt or unqualified. I deliberately chose to relish the comfort and coolness of my home and went nowhere near my sweltering voting precinct. (This reminds me of Meg Ryan declaring to Greg Kinnear that she didn’t vote in the last mayoral election; she got a manicure instead.)
I remember my classmate one summer in college. I was about to shift to Spanish and was taking summer classes to catch up with the regular majors. That Spanish 1 class was a lot of fun and I was in the most convivial group of seatmates, which was the ideal situation if you were spending the summer inside a classroom. We occupied the back row and just had a good time with the lesson.
We weren’t nasty or obnoxious. We were eager to learn and very much interested in the subject. We did laugh a lot, but only because one of us was so unconsciously funny that he evoked giggles even when he was dead serious. And he was the type to immediately realize just how funny what he had said was, so he was right along laughing with us.
Anyway, this person, whose name I can no longer recall, although I can still see his face and remember his sister’s name (Cherry) because he often used it in his Spanish (kinder-level) sentences, was so wholesome and likable that I was really surprised to hear him say that he wasn’t voting because he didn’t believe in public elections.
At 18, I thought that was incongruously rebellious. When the professor asked why not, he replied that he just didn’t think it was the best way to arrive at the most competent and most deserving leader, and the process was entirely too fallible and corruptible.
One of our other friends said, “Did he say it was too volleyball?”
I giggled, but didn’t really judge. Since our mascot (joke!) was rather soft spoken, it was sometimes difficult to make out what he was saying. I myself had fallen victim to his mumbling. I once asked him what his major was, and I heard him answer, “Genetic Engineering.”
Jurassic Park 1 had still been pretty new at that time and I had that technology pretty fresh in my mind. I gushed, “That’s so cool! Are you interested in cloning or reviving extinct species?”
He gave me a quizzical look. Another seatmate started chuckling. “It’s geodetic, not genetic!”
“Geodetic Engineering? Now, I have no idea what the heck that is!” They made sure they remedied my lack of knowledge. That was what college was for. It’s also where I learned the most ridiculous urban legends, so not all pieces of information gained were actually worthy.
Anyway, going back to Cherry’s brother, I didn’t really agree with him at that time. My thinking was a lot more conventional and shallow. Through the years, however, I gradually came to concur with his sentiment.
Still, voting is my right as a citizen, and I get to call when I think it’s worth the bother. At this point in time, when villains abound the administration and legislature (probably the judiciary as well, but at lower notoriety), and it may very well be an exercise in futility, I choose to assert it, if only to express my opposition to the current powers that be.
This Small Life 