Here is something stupid about me: I don’t totally get how scribbling in a circle and sliding my ballot into an old-looking machine could possibly do anything, but this morning I did it anyway and I didn’t even hassle one of the voting machine operators with a wink and a, “But does this really work?”
My polling place, which was at a public school a few blocks from my apartment, was packed, which was encouraging, but also deeply disorganized. My boyfriend and I live together so we found our way to the right desk, but we were then promptly split up into two different lines (he has an A-M last name and I have an N-Z last name). Better to be later in the alphabet (or worse, because none of us can wake up before 10 a.m.), because my line took under ten minutes and I was out of there pretty quickly, and his line took an additional hour. Nuts.
On a personal note, throughout the past 16 months, I’ve observed men in public and private life view women as the ones responsible for doing the unglamorous work (of governing, of management, of domestic upkeep) without the respect or recognition that would be demanded by a man. I’ve observed men realize they want something and step over the women who have been quietly and diligently working to achieve that same thing for years, or jettisoned as suddenly inconvenient. It felt good to vote for a woman who has endured decades of the same.
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