I voted today, and it was only a 5-minute wait. A neighbor tried voting on Monday, the first day of early voting, at 10:30 AM. She said the line was so long that she and her husband left. But my husband and I only encountered a brief wait today. As always, I felt a surge of pride at the opportunity to vote.

I have fond memories from childhood of going with my parents to vote. The whole community would walk to the polling place, with women dressed in their Sunday best and wearing “smart” hats. We children wore our school clothes but were allowed to don our Sunday shoes, and I always put on my lace ruffled socks.

Voting day felt like a solemn responsibility in our segregated community. No one took it for granted. No one claimed to “not have time.” No one said there were "no good candidates." That was understood. They were all segregationists, so none of them were "good."  

Instead, the adults in our community debated for weeks about which candidates might help us move the needle, even just a little. There were no purists among them; the goal was simply to make some progress.

In the weeks leading up to voting day, White men would show up at our church to solicit our votes. The minister never took sides, but these visits helped my parents and neighbors decide who might give us even an inch of progress.

As a child, I was sensitive to nonverbal cues. While I didn’t grasp most of what these candidates were saying, I could sense who disdained us and who might have a more open heart.

Voter turnout is breaking records this year, which is reassuring. I spoke with one volunteer who mentioned she had watched the presidential and vice-presidential debates and was going to vote “this time.” This time?! It was shocking to hear that she was only planning to vote now.

The memory of my community turning out to vote during my childhood is still vivid. The privilege of choosing our elected representatives is deeply ingrained in me; I can’t imagine deciding it’s not worth my time to vote. If there is an election, I pull out the voters' guides, check out the candidates, and vote.

I graduated college at 20, and during my first job in New York City, there was a mayoral election. I remember feeling frustrated that I couldn’t vote since the voting age was then 21. If I was old enough for a job while all my friends were voting, why couldn’t I?

Since then, I have missed only a few runoff elections. People who are unsure about voting this time may not realize what an enormous privilege it is. Many lost their lives during the Revolutionary War and the Civil Rights Movement for this right.

If my ancestors fought for my right to vote, I certainly won’t take it for granted.

Fast forward to this election cycle—there’s electricity in the air. The podcasters I listen to talk about those of us who might have PTSD from 2016. Some people have PTSD from 2020 when their candidate lost. I've read research on why people choose one candidate over another, but it fascinates me how supporters on both sides often give almost identical reasons for their choices.

The polling place was bustling today, located in a small building within a local city park. There were more than a dozen election workers ensuring everything ran smoothly. I felt gratified seeing them there, including those who will likely vote for candidates I wouldn’t dream of supporting. Everyone showed up out of civic duty.

I hope you’ve planned to vote. If you’re unsure whether it’s worth your time, please reach out to me. This is an all-hands-on-deck election—we need you. We need each other!