I walked through the doors of the gymnasium and was amazed by the length of the line. I could guess there were at least 80 people in front of me. My husband watched our daughter while I stood in line, and debated walking back out to the car.
All of these people in front of me were waiting in line for the same thing. Waiting in line to vote.
I saw people of all ages and races in line with me. Parents waited with their restless children who played tag around the rec center.
Friends stood in line together and took turns watching each other’s children while they took part in their civil duty.
I thought what a great example this was setting for their children. I don’t remember my parents voting when I was younger. Maybe they did but we didn’t talk about it. I surely don’t remember waiting in line with them. My husband had voted earlier that day and I had waited until the very last moment on election day, to vote.
Ten minutes went by. Then 20, and 30, and I was about half way through the line.
Polls closed at 7 but everyone in line before then was allowed to cast their vote.
I stood debating back and forth in my head if I should just leave. What would my one vote mean in the grand scheme of things. But then I thought of my daughter.
I care about her education, her health, her future, and people we vote for can influence what those things will look like for her some day.
So I waited.
And while I waited my mind drifted to history lessons where I learned of a time where blacks and women weren’t allowed to vote.
An hour after walking to the back of the line I was handing over my voter registration card and handed my bright orange clearance card. I got my pass code and took my turn to cast my vote.
And when the job was done I proudly wore my “I Voted” sticker… Or in this case, they ran out so I wore “Yo Vote´”!
Voting didn’t take half as long as the waiting did, but it was worth it.