October is in full swing and now is the time to make a plan to vote. I’ll never forget the year I moved to a new city where the county election commission was riddled with technical difficulties. The problem was so widespread and detrimental to voter morale, it made national headlines. People waited hours in line, myself included. My three little kids were with me as I stood in the elementary school hallway until it was my turn.
This is what happens when you don’t make a plan.
For the 2020 election, I have a plan: I will vote in person because I love the shared experience with my neighbors. For me, this emotional boost of gathering with others who value civic duty is worth the risk of long lines. I am fortunate to live close enough to take a short walk to my precinct. And this time, I will leave the kids at home with a sitter.
But you don’t have to wait (or walk) to vote. Plan your vote today. Make sure your voice is heard. In the meantime, this poem was inspired by the year I had no plan.
Ballot
That year I stood in line
for 3 hours with 3 kids.
I lectured them
like a televangelist
on voting rights
and American history,
how non-white, non-men
were denied the right
to participate in civil
circles, people died.
And if time in line
was my earthly cross
to bear for suffrage
in our amended present,
I would drag a slab of wood
until all the lights went dark,
until every door was locked.
Then I would hammer my fist
until it dripped with blood
and poll workers let me fill
all the ovals in my ballot.
But gravitas was lost
on them, their ears
plugged with hunger
their short legs tired
from standing for so long.