The Family Vote By Mary Bodel

Voting has always been important in my family. Everyone who could vote did so. From a very young age, my parents carefully explained the voting process to me. They taught me what it meant to them and how the system worked. They made me understand it was essential for me to exercise my right to vote.

This continued in school. My teachers were eager to relay the importance of citizens taking part in government. I grew up surrounded by people who relished the right to vote and held the act of voting as important. .It wasn’t until I was married that I realized not everyone shared my background. I’ll never forget when I found out my husband would need convincing to vote.

* * *

Just weeks after we were married, we exchanged details of our days over dinner.

“I got my voter registration changed to my new last name today,” I proudly told my husband.

“What?” Gene asked. “What do you mean? Your voter registration?”

“Well, yeah,” I said. “It doesn’t just update automatically.”

“But why bother?” he said.

I was stunned. I put down my fork and stared at my husband in dramatic silence.

“Aren’t you registered to vote?” I finally asked.

“No. I’ve never voted,” he said flippantly.

I hardened my stare. Speechless.

“It doesn’t seem to make much of a difference,” he said.

* * *

I ate a few bites from my plate and took a minute to think about how I wanted to respond.

“The first time I voted we voted out a governor who wasn’t doing a very good job of governing,” I said.

“Well...”

“We voted the guy out of office. My vote made a difference,” I said.

“Huh.”

The conversation wasn’t going anywhere. Convincing Gene to register to vote was important to me, but I knew I’d need a strategy beyond a casual dinner conversation. I let it go.

* * *

Over the next few days, I thought about how I’d need to nudge Gene along if I wanted to get him to vote. I got in touch with a family friend. She was registering people to vote and agreed to make a house call.

“Gene, you remember Joan, right?” I asked when she arrived.

“Yes, I do. She does a lot of stuff with your mom,” Gene responded warmly, taking the older woman’s hand in greeting.

“She’s here to help get you registered to vote. Isn’t that nice of her?” I looked at him innocently.

Ever respectful and polite, Gene didn’t miss a beat. If he was annoyed, he was too kind to let Joan see it.

“Thank you, Joan,” he said.

Then he looked at me and sighed. “I’ll be in the garage.”

* * *

Joan and I sat drinking tea and catching up. While Gene tinkered in the garage, we took the liberty of filling in the boring details on the voter registration form Joan had brought for Gene.

When he came back to sit with us, Joan gently slid the form across the table to Gene. She uncapped her pen and set it in front of him with a sweet nod.

He signed it.

* * *

When Gene’s voter registration came in the mail, our discussions of politics began.

“Who are you voting for in the presidential race?” I asked.

“Reagan, definitely. He’s really for the space shuttle program and that’s an important part of my job.”

“Same here. I wasn’t old enough to vote for him in his first election.”

* * *

Gene has voted in every election ever since then. Yes, voting does make a difference.

I am a fifty-seven-year-old married grandmother. My husband and I have been married for thirty-five years. We have two children and three grandchildren. I have voted in every election since I became eligible to vote and plan to continue doing so. Our children also vote and pay attention to politics so as to know who to vote for and against.