There’s been a lot of talk lately about rights.
I was young the first time I voted – I’m sure it was during a class, pick “what type of party we’re going to have” type lesson, I’m sure. Or maybe a vote in the car for what kind of “treat” the family was going to pick up.
But that first time moment, although democratic, does not resonate in my memory. Moments like it happen all the time – throw in your opinion and see what falls. What type of party my second grade class has – not important. Are we getting ice cream or stopping by the bakery – not important.
What I do remember is important: I remember watching my mom vote. I remember asking why it was taking so long. I remember thinking it was very complicated – those circles and what’s a write in and the envelopes. I remember asking her about her signature. Watching her fill in the circles. Scanning the voters pamphlets. Putting everything together in the envelopes. Signing her name.
I don’t remember exactly what she said, but whatever it was, it correctly and completely conveyed the importance of this act – vote. Women died for this right. I remember that. This is how we honor what they gave us.The opportunity to have our voice heard. We pay taxes, we follow the law and we vote. This is our right.
There’s a lot of talk about rights lately.
This is our opportunity to act.