Mason and I took Clare with us to our local polling station yesterday to vote. I picked her up from school at 3:00 (after nap and snack) and we headed to meet Mason there. We are fortunate because our voting location is an active living senior center within walking distance of our house. We've voted there twice and I have found that it's always such a warm and fun atmosphere. The residents are always smiling and they put out coffee and cookies and breakfast when you got to vote. Yesterday they even had popcorn for us!
Anyway, I diverge...
We had both been talking repeatedly to her about going to vote, so when we got there she was aware and anxious to see what all the commotion was about. We were all noticeably excited to be honest. I must note how important it was to me that she be there with us. I wanted and needed her to see that we, her mom and dad, believe in the process of electing our government. I explained as much as I felt that I could without boring her, and she seemed genuinely interested. Often you could hear her saying "What's dat?"
I held her on my hip through the entire process from signing in, to receiving my ballot, to filling in the ballot, and finally delivering my ballot into the vote machine. We three received an "I voted" sticker. She was proud of her sticker. I was proud of her quiet willingness to participate in the event. Anyone with any knowledge of a two year old understands that her phenomenal behavior was the voice of her willingness to be a part of it with us (otherwise, I would have watched her flounder loudly on the floor - voicing her displeasure).
With her there, this election meant so much more than who would win. With her there, the moment was about teaching responsibility and dedication and pride in one's country without saying a single word about any of those things. It was a passing along of the ideals that have built us into who we are, the many who merge into a single voice. The notion that we must always use this power of voting so that our voices are heard. If they're not heard the first time or the second time, then keeping voting and keep working to be heard. I live in a state where I could have just as well stayed at home. I knew my vote didn't really matter. I could have been discouraged by that and just not bothered with it. But, I can't let that stop me from using my voice. It's a privilege. Yesterday, I began the long road of teaching her these same things so that she remembers them as she grows into a woman with a voice with the power to use that voice in this world we live in.