I love to vote. Every time I do, I think about a 14-year-old immigrant from Austria who craved and valued democracy.
He loved the right to vote, to participate fully in the democratic process, to do so without coercion or restraint. This immigrant was my grandfather.
Just today I asked a friend whether he planned to vote. He said he wasn’t sure. He said he hadn’t followed the candidates and issues. He did say he overheard people discussing one of the gubernatorial debates. When I talked about our democratic franchise to vote, he seemed only mildly interested.
Cynicism and disgust about politics are rampant. Why vote when money controls politics, some might ask? Why vote when my participation means so little, some might ask? Simply why go to the trouble and interrupt my daily routine for so little return?
My response: if you wonder if your vote counts, just look at close elections throughout our country determined by just a relatively few votes. If you want to have some say, then vote. While lots of money can pay for television ads, signs and mailing pieces, you pull the lever (more sophisticated these days).
You have the right to choose. You also have the right to shun the political process.
You can determine the influence or lack thereof, of expensive advertising. You can decide.
As for just plain anger and disillusionment with the process, including gerrymandering that has created safe, ideologically rigid voting districts, I acknowledge and understand this reaction. I still think I have a voice when I vote and hence the right to express my opinion. So do you.
Apathy is not a choice for me. My long-deceased grandfather would condemn doing nothing to exercise our right to vote. He votes when I do.
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