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When I was 10 years old, my classmates and I were asked to write an essay about why we loved America. I wrote about how much I loved the fact that all of our votes counted. I was just a kid from a small farm, but my vote would one day count as much as the rich people who lived in far-off cities. In America, I wrote, we are “created equal” and all our votes count.
I learned later that not everyone throughout American history had been treated equally, and voting was, unfortunately, central to that inequality. I learned about slavery as a kid, but no one explained the lasting legacy of that horrible institution until I was in college. High school taught me that Black Americans were granted the right to vote after the Civil War. College taught me that many white Americans restricted voting by Black Americans through a century of Jim Crow laws, intimidation, violence, and murder.
When my grandmother, a former schoolteacher, read my essay, she told me that she was 30 years old in 1920 when women got the right to vote. In practical terms, this only meant white women because people of color were still discriminated against. I was amazed that one of the smartest and bravest people I knew had been barred from voting simply because she wasn’t a man.
In the mid-1960s, landmark laws and a constitutional amendment made voting safer for Black Americans. By the time I reached adulthood, America had finally approached the theme of my childhood essay. In theory, at least, everyone’s vote counted as much as everyone else’s. Republicans have been clinging to power with voter suppression and gerrymandering, but they can’t block equal access to the ballot box forever.
Around the time I wrote that essay, the voting age changed from 21 to 18. I voted for the first time in 1980. Since then, I’ve voted in every presidential and midterm election, as well as many special, off-year, and primary elections. I’ve always felt a sense of reverence, responsibility, and honor when I’ve filled in an oval, punched a pin, or even, decades ago, when I flipped switches and pulled a massive lever on the antiquated mechanical contraption that I hope I operated correctly.
This month, I completed my ballot early, found a parking space on Main Street, and dropped my vote into the secure box in front of Northampton City Hall. As I slid my sealed envelope into that ballot box, I looked around to see if anyone was watching me. I was relieved not to see armed people in military gear. That’s not the case everywhere in America. In some states where the lies about voter fraud have driven people into fake outrage, people haunt drop boxes, intimidate voters, and harass election workers.
As a 10-year-old, I couldn’t even imagine the lies like the ones Trump and other Republicans have been spreading about voting in America, let alone voting for people like the election deniers on so many Republican tickets this year. Back then, I imagined voting for sensible leaders who wanted to help make the world a better place. And that’s exactly what I did here in Massachusetts with my 2022 ballot.
I voted for Jo Comerford and Lindsay Sabadosa, two strong, intelligent women who represent us in state government with idealism, practicality, and tenacity. (And neither one wants to be one of Mehmet Oz’s “local political leaders” who interfere with women’s reproductive choices.)
I voted for Secretary of State William Galvin, who quietly works to make sure everyone can vote legally and securely while so many people across the country rant dishonestly about elections.
I voted for Andrea Campbell, who knows that an attorney general should work for everyone, especially the vulnerable.
I voted for Maura Healey, who has always stood up for everyday citizens over corporate power. and who will soon be America’s first openly gay woman governor in a time when representation matters.
I voted for Jim McGovern, who works tirelessly in Congress for everyone to have food, shelter, health care, education, and equal opportunity. (And he doesn’t embarrass us on a daily basis like so many Congressional Republicans.)
Our elected leaders honor our state and nation with their service.
I didn’t vote for any candidates who denied the 2020 election results, who encouraged and excused the January 6 attack, who claimed that the only way they could lose is if the election were rigged, who wanted to give politicians the right to overturn election results they don’t like, or who lied about voter fraud to push laws limiting legal voting. I voted in a state that made voting easier, not harder. And I certainly didn’t vote for anyone twisted enough to joke about the politically motivated, brutal assault on Nancy Pelosi’s husband.
In many states, terrible candidates like that were on the ballot. Sadly, some were elected. But, overall, democracy won. And Massachusetts led the way.
I love America today because, despite our nation’s many self-inflicted wounds, Massachusetts represents the best of a core American value: the notion that every vote counts. We have a long road ahead, but I hope one day every corner of our country reaffirms that value.
John Sheirer is an author and teacher from Florence. His latest book is the award-winning, “Stumbling Through Adulthood: Linked Stories.” Find him at JohnSheirer.com.
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