I just came back from voting. I know you voted this morning. My voting place was as crazy busy as I expected it to be.
Today, the process of actually casting my ballot --for all its inconveniences-- inspires me to become a tiny part of the political process next time. I don't know who volunteers at your polling place, but here's who was staffing mine: two white women under age 30, some middle-aged white women and Latinas, several elderly African American men, and many, many middle-aged to elderly African American women.
This is who volunteers every time I vote. Sure, some of it is the demographics of my neighborhood. But, isn't it the ultimate irony that the people who have been the least well served by the U.S. government, who have been the most disenfranchised by the political process, are the people who take on the responsibility of making sure that the voting process works for everyone.
I'm not a very political guy. I care, I watch the debates, I vote, but that's about it. As a gay man, I should be doing a lot more than that. I won't go all political here, but I am way too comfortable and complacent. I need motivate myself with these state-by-state maps of laws affecting the basic rights of GLBT persons. I'm fortunate to live in a liberal bunker and I do so by choice. Not everyone can or wants to.
Back to my polling place: On the way out, not only did I get an "I Voted" sticker from the volunteer, but she assured me, "You did a good thing today, baby." I will try to live up to her vote of confidence.