Herself speaks.
Yesterday, I slid into the polling place exactly four minutes before the polls closed. I checked in and then joined the sizeable line. Half an hour later, I was able to step up and cast my ballot.
This was a difficult primary. The shadow of the terrible presidential election of 2016 is haunting -- as I drove through the cold rain home from the polling place, I had thought about that nauseating sensation -- like the bottom falling out of reality -- when I realized who would win then. Will we ever overcome that terrible loss? And the damage that has been done since then?
I do not remember politics being so loud and divisive and rude and vulgar in the years of my youth. Now, though, all I feel is a sense of dismay and an ever-heightening need to avoid all footage of politicians and debates and pundits. Reading as much factual information (which can be difficult to find) as I can will suffice. I cannot bear the angry voices.
We shall see how it goes. I am not hopeful. But still, I vote, because my one voice should be heard, however faintly.
*
No comments:
Post a Comment