Do whatcha want, but do something...

“We think some moments and actions have little meaning. 

Nothing could be further from the truth!  Each moment,

each thought, each action no matter how small,

in fact means everything!”

- Anonymous

It was late in 2007…the room was full. 

It looked like the United Nations with people, seemingly from every part of the world.  In truth, I was a little nervous.  It wasn’t just me, but in the eyes of the “…red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in his sight…” there was a look of anticipation, almost disbelief really, that this day was actually at hand – it had been a long time coming.

A long time here…

For most of the 60 years I had lived in this country in a state of constant transitional thought.  I kept thinking I would return to Canada to live, and so each time the thought of becoming an American Citizen drifted through my consciousness, I would think, “What’s the point? I pay taxes…had gone to war…I mean really, the only thing I couldn’t do was vote.  I’d be heading home in the next few years.”

“…Home in the next few years…”  What did that mean?  Aren’t we at home wherever we are?  Isn’t our home the place where we think and live and perceive and desire and plan and…well, I suppose wherever you go, in the context of ‘state of mind,’ you are home!  Right??

The event…

The judge entered the room and had a few things to say.  With the quiet and thoughtful words that could have come from the pulpit of a Presbyterian minister, he wove a story of his immigrant roots…how this country had been built on people like his grandparents…how it would survive and continue to grow on the shoulders of the people sitting in this room.

With that, he asked for everyone to stand and administered the oath of citizenship.  It is difficult to express the energy in the room.  After all while it seemed a pretty low-key event, the buzz was palpable…electric.  When he was finished there was almost a group exhalation of disbelief.  No police had come to stop the proceedings; no government bureaucrat had delayed the event.  The commonality of moist eyes amongst those people was both heartwarming and heart filling.  I was surprised just how I was moved by this quietly understated culmination of the process of becoming a citizen.

Later the next year…
For a fellow who has seen a lot in his life and feels political cynicism often overwhelms enthusiasm, the primary elections of 2008 were pretty exciting. I paid attention to the candidates and tried to cut through the inflations of their positions and the negatives of their opponents.  Then came the day when I walked into the polling place at the recreation center in Troy, Michigan and cast my first vote.  I wore that ‘I voted’ sticker with some pride.

By the time the general elections came, we had moved to San Diego.  It was a dreary and rainy day, as we walked to the little Lutheran Church in our neighborhood to vote.  We chatted quietly about the candidates, the things we had learned and way we would vote. 

It was 6:45AM when we arrived and there were already a few hearty folk waiting in line.  At 7AM, the doors opened and a remarkable thing happened.  A person stepped out said, “Hear ye, hear ye, the polls for the elections are now open.”  “Hear ye, Hear ye…”  These were words spoken since the beginning of elections in this country…rich with history.  With that we headed in.  The first citizen was asked to check the ballot boxes before they were sealed to make sure they were empty and ready for the day.  I thought to myself, “I want that experience.”

Two years later…

At the midterms in 2010 the weather was great and I headed to the polls at 6:15AM hoping no one else would be in line, and they were not.  I can’t say how energizing this was for me.  I felt like I wasn’t just voting, but a part of an historical chain going back to the first election between Adams and Jefferson.  Maybe it didn’t actually go that far back, but I still felt I had found myself in the slipstream of history and it was gratifying. 

At 7AM the poll leader came out and made the “Hear ye, hear ye…” announcement.  This time, however, I was the first citizen to cast the vote.  As I had seen during the 2008 presidential cycle, I was asked to check the ballot boxes to ensure they were empty.  The truth??  I got goose bumps!

Privilege…obligation…honor?

I have a fair number of friends who don’t vote and feel that their vote has little meaning…the negativity of campaigns overwhelming…the government corrupt and there is no one they can support…the hours for the polling places not convenient…voting a waste of time.

It is hard to argue there is gridlock in local and national politics and that the campaigns are pretty negative.  It might be helpful to know, however, the American politic has always been that way from the very first election where defamation of character was common and even duels resulting in death were fought.  The first election between John Adams and Thomas Jefferson was so bitter that they didn’t speak for many years.  They had joined as brothers to lead the Continental Congress and fight the British, only to become so embittered in their fight with one another for the presidency…they lost their friendship.

Politics I suppose is like making sausage…seeing the way it’s made, makes you not want to eat it.  Having said that, it is this somewhat cyclical, and one might argue distasteful process, that has made this country an historical aberration.  The first country, with the exception of some of the Greek City-States, founded on ideas, NOT from being conquered by some superior force…ideas, NOT treaties by powerful families or clans…ideas, NOT the supremacy of a tyrant or despot emerging from the populous. 

It is an old, and possibly worn expression, but aside from all the bumps and warts and ‘political bad breath,’ this country is unique in world history.  If you have traveled any overseas, you will know how grateful people in other lands would be to have the opportunity to have a vote that was even possibly meaningful.

Soon coming…

Tuesday, I will be voting once again.  If I get there early enough, I’ll be the first citizen in and check the voting boxes.

My vote?  My nonvoting friends are correct.  In the big picture it will probably have little meaning, you know a drop in the bucket…BUT here’s the thing…

It means something to me!

- ted