So, today I totally rocked the vote.
Isn't that SUCH an 18- to 25-year-old-female-voter-ish thing for me to say? We're young, smart and TOTALLY in to politics and, like, what's happening in the world. RockTheVote.com reported today that "young voter turnout nationwide is showing significant increases compared to 2004 vote totals. Across the country, young people are voting at historic levels." We're definitely doing better than we were a few years ago, but I still think we have a long way to go.
Not that I'm one to talk. I'm guilty of justifying the laziness — My vote doesn't even count in Utah. One vote really doesn't make a difference at all I told myself this morning when I realized it was already November 4. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling of Susan B. Anthony and thousands of other dead feminists breathing down my neck all morning.
So to the polls I went. I wasn't looking forward to the long line all my co-workers (who are mostly over 30) were talking about, but I drove to BYU campus on my lunch hour anyway. This is SO worth the sacrifice, I thought, mentally patting myself on the back for my patriotism.
When I got there, I thought I'd come to the wrong place. I was the only one in line — the old man at the table seemed thrilled to have some company. While I thought it was sad, I wasn't terribly surprised. My precinct included BYU and UVU students, and we're SO busy all the time.
But one other voter came while I was there — a young man probably not more than 25 — who caught my eye and changed my perspective. He was fully dressed in his Army Greens — or, rather, the Army Tans they wear today in Iraq. I couldn't help watching him as he signed his name and stepped up to cast his ballot.
I felt sheepish standing next to him. I had thought so highly of myself for driving an extra 12 minutes and sacrificing our office's daily MarioKart Tournament to do my civic duty. What was my sacrifice when compared to his? The very fact that I was able to stand next to him was because of him and people like him. And I thought I was the patriotic one?
He finished, nodded to the workers and left. I awkwardly took my sticker and saltwater taffy as I followed him — I left a little prouder of my country and a little more embarrassed for my generation.
It's a little late, but I'll still say it. Generation Y, get out there and rock the ...
Yeah, you know.
