The day I voted

Last Tuesday will be recorded in our children’s history books as a day America was changed forever.

I will be able to give my own children a firsthand account of Nov. 4, 2008, the way I remember it: The day I voted in a presidential election for the very first time and experienced a sensation where I felt powerful, important and American. They say every vote counts, and they weren’t kidding.

Indiana was one stubborn state. Barack Obama had already been announced president-elect, yet Hoosiers still didn’t know which color they should be shaded. It’s a good thing we chose Obama. Indiana looks better in blue.

I voted for Obama and was thrilled to hear he won in Indiana by such a small number of votes. My vote actually mattered. That’s why I’m glad I jumped through hoops of fire (figuratively) to get to the polls.

I had classes all day on Tuesday, and by the time I was ready to go vote, my friends who had cars had already done their civic duty.

I didn’t back down, though. It was a beautiful day and the walk to Tri-North Middle School would be good exercise. I didn’t let the fact that I had no idea where Tri-North Middle School was ruin my day. I was determined to find it, vote and help make Barack Obama my next president.

I got directions from MapQuest and began walking merrily down Walnut. I had not even been walking for five minutes before a man pulled over and asked if I was going to Indianapolis.

Thank you, sir, but I am not going to Indianapolis – and even if I were, I would not get in your scary car with bumper stickers that support McCain. (Frankly, I wouldn’t have gotten in his car even if he was an Obama supporter, though that might have helped his case.)

It was then that I realized that walking by myself in an unfamiliar area might not be safe, and I would be no good to Obama mugged, raped and on my way to Indianapolis with a Republican.

I whipped out my lifeline (synonym for cell phone) to call a friend and mooch a ride, but before I could type in an area code, a bus pulled up. It was headed toward Tri-North Middle School. I hopped on.

As the wheels on the bus turned round and round, transporting me closer and closer to the place where I would help make the most important decision a constituent can make, I overheard a woman complaining about the youth of America and how little we care about the world around us. 

I was dying to tell her about my day and how excited I had been to finally have a voice in my government. How deeply I cared about the world around me.

Instead, I stepped off of the bus in front of my precinct’s polling place and smiled, prepared to show her why she shouldn’t accuse my generation of not caring.