Karyn Bartosic
September 28, 2020
Vote.
I understand your disillusionment, your anger and frustration, your screams of “Why?!” I feel them deeply. But this is not about all the ways our system can and should be better. It is not about who should have or should not have been the candidate. It is not about our individual identities and how each is represented or not in the government. There is no other system that will affect the necessary change. This is a simple, two-option choice: fascism or democracy.
There is talk of settling, of apathy, and of poll numbers even more sure than 2016. There is a campaign on Instagram called “Settle for Biden,” in fact. I have, in my own circles, heard the phrases, “What is the point?” and, “My vote doesn’t matter.” To the point of poll numbers, we need look no further than the 2016 election and the certainty with which any reputable polling source declared Hillary Clinton would be victorious. Nothing in this world is guaranteed, certainly not elections, for they are at the mercy of a fickle populace. Every voice matters and every voice counts.
This moment, a crossroads in the great American experiment from which I hope we emerge safely, yet fear we will follow a path to chaos, is not a time for protest votes. It most certainly is not a time for abstaining, which, in the words of my first teacher of politics back in high school, is the worst choice we can make.
It is incumbent upon each of us to act for the future we want. I want that future to be one of inclusion, of equity, of morality. I will be voting as such. But that future cannot be achieved without my fellow citizens. It is something we can reach out and touch only if we stand together. Each minority voting for equality. Each young person voting for their future. Each elder voting for the world they wish to bequeath to the next generations. Each American voting for what that citizenship means.
This will take all of us. It will take poll workers, and you telling your friends to go vote with you. It will take facilitating mail-in ballots and safely operating polls on election day. It will take every single one of us to exert pressure on our personal networks to vote, and to ask themselves
“What am I voting for?”
We are voting for the kind of government we want to have. One which defends the right to free speech rather than attacking the media for negative coverage. One which represents this country and its citizens with dignity abroad. One which will defend the democratic principles on which this nation was founded, rather than eroding them until we unwittingly arrive at fascism. One which does not so flagrantly abuse the office of the President. One whose administration will not, for instance, continue to flout the Hatch Act, a federal ethics law prohibiting most government officials from conducting politics while on duty or on federal ground.[i] This will be to vote out a president who has made a number of comments about an unconstitutional third term.[ii] It will take more than a few uncomfortable conversations and the courage of conviction not only in the face of distant opposition, but in the face of loved ones.
We must do this in the face of active voter suppression. The president has blatantly announced his intentions to use his power over the Postal Service to repress vote by mail.[iii] Protecting this option is crucial not only today due to health concerns with in-person voting during a pandemic, but as one that should be widely available so that citizens who may not otherwise have time to vote are able to speak their voice. This active suppression of a vital part of the electoral system is but one example of the degradation of the institutions which are designed to be impartial and continue democracy as it has been constructed in the United States.
If we want to be a generation of change, we must realize that big dreams are achievable, and each step is small, but victorious. To those who have lost faith in the system or point to the progress made in the private sector as a result of protests, I am not diminishing these views or accomplishments. But we can scream in the streets as loud as we want and it will not matter if the representatives at all levels of government, from local town councils to Washington, share these frustrations and these goals. Both pieces are necessary for real change.
It is in the drudgery of bureaucracy that landmark legislation is not only created but defended. The lethargy of the system is not a flaw, but a design feature; neither ‘side’ of a disagreement will leave entirely happy if a good compromise is achieved; but we cannot even arrive at compromise if we do not have seats at the table advocating for progress. This November is the first step. Thousands of votes—voters who have reached 18 since last election, voters who were unregistered last election, voters who chose not to vote last election—will be that first step.
The next steps will be, at the very least, every election following. Your engagement cannot be a one-time thing, just another news headline to get riled up about before moving on to the next. We must remember what we are voting for in every race: town councils, state representatives, governorships, judges, and every congressperson. Doing so is a realization of all that we share, a focus not on our many and varied differences, but what unites us as a country. It is a commitment implied by our citizenship[1], binding and life-long. To quote Mark Lilla, “We’re all Americans and we owe that to each other.”[iv]
As the first modern democracy, we have among the worst voter participation rates in the world.[v] A far cry from our democratic ancestors. To an Athenian, not engaging in civic life was of great shame; to us, participation is a luxury or a burden, abstainers a sorry majority. Those Athenians who could be active participants in their democracy understood that active and avid participation in one’s government is the best way to approach the ideal of self-mastery. Our right to vote is a protected way not only to criticize and dissent with those who represent us and their actions, but to maintain power over them. That is precious and taken for granted, a treasure too many of us throw by the wayside in frustration or sloth.
I have, of late, been questioning my country and my patriotism, what it means when I say, ‘I am American,’ and what that means not only to me, but to others. I have come to the conclusion that I am proud of the ideals this country was founded on, of freedom and equality; I am ashamed that we have not attained those values for ourselves. And if we cannot do that here at home, how can we justify doing so abroad? How can we denounce the use of tear gas on protesters in Hong Kong who are marching for democracy and not two months later use tear gas on our own citizens who are peacefully protesting for equality and an end to discrimination? We must confront our own hypocrisy, however painful doing so may be. I call here upon Thomas Paine: “moderation in principle is always a vice.”[vi]
It is up to us to ask these questions of ourselves and of our country; asking difficult questions of ourselves and our society is how progress is made. In response to these questions it is not only vitally important, but incumbent upon us to respond. The capacity for change is within us all: the American spirit of revolution. These are the voices which prompt our never-ending question, “Why?”, posed to the status quo at every chance. Questions are not an end, though, but a beginning. By an adage from Maya Angelou, “The trouble for the Thief is not how to steal the Chief’s bugle, but where to play it.”[vii]
This is not reason to despair, though, nor reason for me to denounce my Americanhood, pick up, and find some other country to pledge my allegiance to. It is a call to action: A call for me to use my privilege and my education and my voice to be an actor in this play. A call to not be a bystander, looking on critically, yet unmoving. A call to avoid a future in which I look back on my youth and scorn myself for wasting it.
We cannot languish in complacency. It is up to each of us to continually meet this insurmountable task; but, if we all face it, we will find Everest to be but a hill and the Pacific, a stream.
[1] I do mean the proper civics class definition here, and do not mean to imply anything about who should and should not be granted citizenship. That is a topic for a different discourse..
[i] Sam Gringlas, “Trump Shatters Ethics Norms by Making Official Acts Part of GOP Convention,” NPR, August 26, 2020, https://www.npr.org/2020/08/26/906228532/trump-shatters-ethics-norms-by-making-official-acts-part-of-rnc-broadcast.
[ii] Chris Cillizza, “Believe it or not, Donald Trump says he should get a third term,” CNN, August 18, 2020, https://www.cnn.com/2020/08/18/politics/donald-trump-third-term-2024/index.html.
[iii] Jennifer Rubin, “Trump confesses to voter suppression,” The Washington Post, August 13, 2020, https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2020/08/13/trump-confesses-voter-supression/.
Yelena Dzhanova, “Trump slams mail-in voting, says it ‘doesn’t work out well for Republicans,’ CNBC, April 8, 2020, https://www.cnbc.com/2020/04/08/trump-slams-mail-in-voting-says-it-doesnt-work-out-well-for-republicans.html.
[iv] Mark Lilla, “The Once and Future Liberal: After Identity Politics,” (New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 2017), 17.
[v] Drew Desilver, “U.S. trails most developed countries in voter turnout,” Pew Research Center, May 21, 2018, https://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2018/05/21/u-s-voter-turnout-trails-most-developed-countries/.
[vi] Thomas Paine, “The Rights of Man,” 1792.
[vii] Maya Angelou, “Letter to My Daughter,” (New York: Random House, Inc., 2008), 147.
Policy & Political Review 