Monday morning, I caught up on social media. I was fortunate to have stayed away on Easter Sunday. Sunday was a sacred holiday filled with faith traditions, family, good food and an Easter egg hunt with my Grandkids.
Monday revealed belatedly the post Trump sent out early Easter morning. If you saw it, you know it was shocking, and unpresidential in the extreme. It was made even worse by the timing.
Of course, the on-line chatter followed; everything from condemnation to excuses. Discussion of fitness for office, etc. I sank in despair. It wasn’t just the post itself; it was the ineffective handling of it: More talk and no action.
Hope was revived this morning when I went to vote. I was the 128th person in my district at approximately 8:30 a.m. The ballot covered our recent mayoral race and State Supreme Court election. There were alderman districts and school board positions to be filled. Three positions were uncontested on the ballot. All of it is important to my community.
The polling place was quiet and peaceful and didn’t reflect the turmoil going on in this country. It looked the way democracy has always looked to me, citizens peacefully controlling their fate.
I have called and written elected officials, I have stood on the sidewalks with my sign in protest, but voting was the most powerful feeling I’ve had recently. I knew what I voted for would make a difference. My voice would matter.
It felt good. It felt like I was doing something effective for the outcome of my future.
I know we all must do what we can to protect our vote, being vigilant in recognizing all the corruption and pressure being brought to bear on the system. I fight for myself, and I fight for the future. I want my grandkids to have a say in what happens in their lives.
So be like me and vote. It’s the antidote to despair. Never give up.