Early/absentee voting in Wisconsin started yesterday, and since I will be in Arizona on Election Day, I decided to go in person, rather than risk my ballot being forwarded between our two residences and missing the deadline. Yes, I am one of the "elite" who owns two homes and will pay more taxes under Obama--but will be grateful to be able to do so. Like Joe Biden said, I believe in these hard times it is patriotic for some of us who CAN pay more, to do what's good for the country. I am appalled by the selfishness and greed of some people in my tax bracket. And since I don't have health insurance in Arizona--and can't buy it at any cost due to pre-existing conditions (we pay $1,700 a month for our Wisconsin coverage that is only good for six months of the year)--I am hopeful Obama's plans will help me as well as those who are less fortunate than I am.
And so I went downtown excited and determined to make sure my vote counted. But I was totally unprepared for an emotional meltdown in what passes these days as the "voting booth."
I wasn't alone in the City-Clerk's office. There was a steady stream of voters, if not an actual line. I didn't need to show an ID, but rather to fill out an affidavit of my name, address, and signature, which the registrar checked. Then, to my relief, I was given a paper ballot. No computer glitches here, thank goodness, even as the State Attorney General pursues his lawsuit to purge voters if their listing does not exactly match other databases.
Standing beside the little plastic table, I picked up my pen and decided not to vote straight party, but rather to fill in my choice for each race (though it amounted to a straight Democratic vote after all). When I reached Barack Obama's and Joe Biden's names on the list, however, I burst into tears and wept audibly.
(A bit of background. I have been voting since 1972 and have never chosen a "first choice" candidate in the primary who went on to the general, let alone one who went on to win. No other election elicited any sense of emotional release. Mostly I voted "against the other guy" not for a particular candidate.)
Now I sensed other voters' eyes trained in my direction, and tried to snuffle my sobbing. No doubt they wondered what I was crying about.
The truth of that hit me in waves. I realized, first, that I was crying with gratitude that enough other Americans shared Barack's (and my) vision for our country during the primaries to see him nominated. And I was crying for my father, who died at 86 on September 12th and desperately wanted to vote for Obama himself. At the end of his life, Dad kept apologizing for the mess he and his generation were leaving behind for the rest of us. And he prayed his age-mates would wake up and recognize true leadership in Obama rather than fall for the race-baiting and fear-mongering that were sure to come (and have) from McCain.
As my mind wandered back in time, I realized I was also crying for the Jews and African Americans who marched together for civil rights, who did not live to see this historic race--groups of people who have seen relationships between them fray over the years. I cried at the thought of all the fences Obama can mend--not just here at home but abroad as well. And I was crying for the generations of other women who could not vote at all, let alone for Obama and against a woman who would overturn everything those women had fought for.
Moreover, I cried for joy at the thought of what true leadership would look like with Obama and Biden, and cried with gratitude that their leadership would come after eight years of the worst leadership in the history of our nation. This nation is so hungry, I thought, so thirsty for an intelligent, judicious leader we can admire. And so I cried at the thought that even racists might overcome prejudice when they are drowning and the only real lifeline is extended by a gifted and capable man who happens to be half-white and half African-American. So many Republicans have publicly admitted they will vote for Obama; I wondered how many more will make that choice in private, when they seriously contemplate a McCain-Palin administration. How many Republican senators, for example, would embrace McCain after him running such a dishonorable campaign, especially the ones who have already voiced concern over his temperament? What if there is a "reverse Bradley effect" and there is additional support for Obama that has not yet been documented in polls?
Lastly, I cried with hope and relief that our long national embarrassment and nightmare may soon be over, when the 80% of Americans who view us as being on the wrong track go to their polling places in record numbers and vote for real change we need and change we can believe in--Barack Obama and Joe Biden.
I'm new to blogging, but find myself wondering (in addition to whether I am doing this correctly): Am I the only one who has cried when she cast her vote for Obama?