Vote Power Activated! By Amelia Marie Whalen
My grandparents took me with them to vote when I was young. The first time was before I started kindergarten. The red brick school was a half mile down the road from their house, and it was a regular thing for us to use the school’s playground. The slippery slide was grand, obviously built for big kids. I loved visiting the school and longed for the day I could start kindergarten there. On the playground visits, we never went inside the school. It was off-limits and locked up tight on those weekends. But the day we went to vote, we got to go inside! The hallways were large and the echoes of our footsteps bounced off the grandiose marble floor and tile walls. Even my little rubber-soled sneakers made a booming sound.
When we rounded a corner and the voting booths came into view, I was awed. They looked futuristic. Were they capable of launching into space? Did I get to go inside? As my grandparents found their names on the sign-in sheets, I couldn’t take my eyes off the row of behemoth machines. They were big, and they were noisy. Each time a voter entered the booth, the curtains whooshed shut with a clank. Then there was the sound of the heavy switches definitively snapping with each vote selection. At last the curtains clattered apart, and the satisfied voter would emerge.
When it was our turn, I scurried into the voting booth with my grandmother. I used both hands on the cold metal lever to draw the curtain. I stood transfixed watching my grandmother flip the heavy switches to cast her votes. When she finished, I leaned all my weight into the lever to re¬open the curtain.
After voting, I was full of questions. The secrecy of the voting process enraptured me. Why was it so secret? Who could you tell about your secret vote?
Throughout grade school, I loved it that school was closed on Election Day. I would tag along with my grandparents, relishing entering the school when it was otherwise closed for business. Voting was ceremonious.
When I was nineteen, my inner child emerged through the spiky purple hair and combat boots. 1996 was the first year I was old enough to vote in a general election. Despite my political views, I was psyched to go into the voting booth and crank the curtain shut. I flipped the switch next to the Green Party nominee, Ralph Nader. (Nader was on the ballot in my home state of New York and in twenty-one other states that year.)
I liked choosing a candidate outside of the two-party system and environmental issues were of the utmost importance to me. I was only starting to realize how impossibly unlikely it was to elect a candidate that wasn’t a Republican or Democrat.
By the time the next election rolled around in 2000, I understood voting third party was futile and started to comprehend the concept of voting for the lesser of two evils. I still voted third party—Nader again. I couldn’t bring myself to cast a vote for a sleazy mainstream politician.
That election turned out to be a fiasco. I learned all about the Electoral College and how completely undemocratic it was. The majority did not rule.
It’s pretty easy to lose faith in the voting process. With all the news out there about other countries meddling, voting machines malfunctioning, redistricting... things seem hopeless. There are flaws caused by outside influences on the established voting system. What’s worse is the system itself, without outside flaws and meddling, doesn’t give power to the people! They set the Electoral College up to undermine the popular vote! Maybe I’m being dramatic; maybe it’s not set up to undermine the popular vote, but the fact is it can override the popular vote, as it has in five elections since 1824.
When the Electoral College elects a candidate that doesn’t win the popular vote, it’s called an inversion. An inversion is most likely to happen when the popular vote is close. This is another reason to vote. Let’s make it so elections aren’t so close. If more people vote and swing the popular vote to an obvious majority, the Electoral College has less chance to overrule the popular vote. Better yet, let’s vote in politicians who will dissolve the Electoral College!
In 2008 voting was a no-brainer. The opportunity to vote for a black person was reason to celebrate. Obama’s campaign for “hope” really rang true. Maybe the hegemony run by rich white dudes was finally weakening. Maybe a shift was occurring, and we were moving past discrimination and racism.
I made sure I was registered to vote as soon as I moved to Arizona. Even though I’m disgusted on a good day and completely outraged on others about the government I distrust, even though I know the Electoral College has a real possibility of undermining the popular vote, I want to vote. It ties back to nostalgia, and those firmly cemented childhood memories of witnessing my grandparents vote. It’s spiritual: I believe that intentions and small actions impact the universe; I believe there’s a cosmic Force-like binding energy that we can influence in abstract ways, and a vote can invoke change in unseen ways. I’m an optimist who still has a punk rock vision to bring down the dominator culture and create utopia. Anyway, I always vote.
So we’ve created this book. To me, this book is about community. It’s about people sharing stories to remind the populace we have each other and hope, and we have a voice. We have the power to make change and create the government we want. Voting is a way to work within the system to change the system. It’s a step along the way. It may seem like a minuscule effort in a sea of injustice and frustration, but we have to do it. It’s a paddle stroke in the row around the world. Let it start a chain reaction of motivation. Let it catalyze action. Your vote is a statement of intention to the universe.
Please let the following stories inspire you! Please vote. Please ask others to vote. In exchange, I offer you hope for impactful change and a beautiful future.
When we rounded a corner and the voting booths came into view, I was awed. They looked futuristic. Were they capable of launching into space? Did I get to go inside? As my grandparents found their names on the sign-in sheets, I couldn’t take my eyes off the row of behemoth machines. They were big, and they were noisy. Each time a voter entered the booth, the curtains whooshed shut with a clank. Then there was the sound of the heavy switches definitively snapping with each vote selection. At last the curtains clattered apart, and the satisfied voter would emerge.
When it was our turn, I scurried into the voting booth with my grandmother. I used both hands on the cold metal lever to draw the curtain. I stood transfixed watching my grandmother flip the heavy switches to cast her votes. When she finished, I leaned all my weight into the lever to re¬open the curtain.
After voting, I was full of questions. The secrecy of the voting process enraptured me. Why was it so secret? Who could you tell about your secret vote?
Throughout grade school, I loved it that school was closed on Election Day. I would tag along with my grandparents, relishing entering the school when it was otherwise closed for business. Voting was ceremonious.
* * *
Over the years, I became disenchanted with my government. I grew into an angsty punk rock teenager. The romantic nature of voting—and anything associated with the government I detested—dissolved. I read books about anarchy and socialism, seeking fair, people-powered alternatives to our capitalist empire. I even dabbled in liberalism and communism, looking into all the options. As a self-identified punk in the early 90s, I followed the influences of Henry Rollins, Jello Biafra, and Patti Smith.When I was nineteen, my inner child emerged through the spiky purple hair and combat boots. 1996 was the first year I was old enough to vote in a general election. Despite my political views, I was psyched to go into the voting booth and crank the curtain shut. I flipped the switch next to the Green Party nominee, Ralph Nader. (Nader was on the ballot in my home state of New York and in twenty-one other states that year.)
I liked choosing a candidate outside of the two-party system and environmental issues were of the utmost importance to me. I was only starting to realize how impossibly unlikely it was to elect a candidate that wasn’t a Republican or Democrat.
By the time the next election rolled around in 2000, I understood voting third party was futile and started to comprehend the concept of voting for the lesser of two evils. I still voted third party—Nader again. I couldn’t bring myself to cast a vote for a sleazy mainstream politician.
That election turned out to be a fiasco. I learned all about the Electoral College and how completely undemocratic it was. The majority did not rule.
It’s pretty easy to lose faith in the voting process. With all the news out there about other countries meddling, voting machines malfunctioning, redistricting... things seem hopeless. There are flaws caused by outside influences on the established voting system. What’s worse is the system itself, without outside flaws and meddling, doesn’t give power to the people! They set the Electoral College up to undermine the popular vote! Maybe I’m being dramatic; maybe it’s not set up to undermine the popular vote, but the fact is it can override the popular vote, as it has in five elections since 1824.
When the Electoral College elects a candidate that doesn’t win the popular vote, it’s called an inversion. An inversion is most likely to happen when the popular vote is close. This is another reason to vote. Let’s make it so elections aren’t so close. If more people vote and swing the popular vote to an obvious majority, the Electoral College has less chance to overrule the popular vote. Better yet, let’s vote in politicians who will dissolve the Electoral College!
* * *
I’m pretty sure I voted in 2004, but I can’t remember if I’d given up on third-party candidates by then or was still hoping to make my voice heard by using my vote to protest the two-party system.In 2008 voting was a no-brainer. The opportunity to vote for a black person was reason to celebrate. Obama’s campaign for “hope” really rang true. Maybe the hegemony run by rich white dudes was finally weakening. Maybe a shift was occurring, and we were moving past discrimination and racism.
* * *
When I moved from upstate New York to Tucson in 2013 my perspective on government and voting changed. My new friends were involved in social justice and policy change. For the first time, I saw meaningful political action on the local level. There were signs on street corners about proposition voting. There were volunteer citizens standing out front of the library asking for signatures to put bills on ballots.I made sure I was registered to vote as soon as I moved to Arizona. Even though I’m disgusted on a good day and completely outraged on others about the government I distrust, even though I know the Electoral College has a real possibility of undermining the popular vote, I want to vote. It ties back to nostalgia, and those firmly cemented childhood memories of witnessing my grandparents vote. It’s spiritual: I believe that intentions and small actions impact the universe; I believe there’s a cosmic Force-like binding energy that we can influence in abstract ways, and a vote can invoke change in unseen ways. I’m an optimist who still has a punk rock vision to bring down the dominator culture and create utopia. Anyway, I always vote.
* * *
In 2016 I had a strong dislike for both candidates, but I voted for what I hoped was the lesser of two evils. As in 2000, it mystified me when the Electoral College quashed the popular vote. I was pretty bummed out when a narcissistic, racist, misogynistic reality TV star took our highest office, and have subsequently been on a major downer while human rights and environmental conservation have been eroded by my government. I see the world needs change. So now I’m more invested than ever in making my voice heard and seeking ways to inspire my community to be the change and build a better government. I think voting is one way we can get the wheels turning.So we’ve created this book. To me, this book is about community. It’s about people sharing stories to remind the populace we have each other and hope, and we have a voice. We have the power to make change and create the government we want. Voting is a way to work within the system to change the system. It’s a step along the way. It may seem like a minuscule effort in a sea of injustice and frustration, but we have to do it. It’s a paddle stroke in the row around the world. Let it start a chain reaction of motivation. Let it catalyze action. Your vote is a statement of intention to the universe.
Please let the following stories inspire you! Please vote. Please ask others to vote. In exchange, I offer you hope for impactful change and a beautiful future.
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Amelia is the author of Everything You’ve Ever Done: A Memoir of Unconditional Love and Spiritual Discovery. She’s the co founder of Sparkle Souls, a group of artists committed to inspiring change and cultivating community. She’s a mountain biking and rock climbing guide in Southern Arizona, and a freelance editor and graphic designer. |