​Citizen Elle

It was never my intention to get involved with politics. In fact, I distinctly remember doing my best to ignore those hounding me about voting as I approached 18. I paid a little bit of attention in 2008 for the historical moment of America electing the first Black president. However, this did not convince or encourage me to vote once I became eligible. This willful ignorance, stubborness, and disillusionment on my part was a grave mistake. This mindset allowed 2016 to happen. This was the first presidential election I was able to participate in, but I didn't do it.

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I, like many at the time, severely underestimated the person who eventually became the 45 president. I wrote him off as a joke not to be taken seriously as a legitimate presidential candidate. I watched as his campaign was plagued with scandal after scandal, and his rhetoric became increasingly racist, misogynistic, and outright vile. Under the rules I assumed politics operated under, there was no way he should have progressed very far. Not many other politcians could have survived so many scandals.

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Eventually, the fields were narrowed down to Hillary Clinton and the Republican nominee. This election night the stakes were higher, and there was history involved as Hillary Clinton had the chance to become the first female president of the United States. We all know what happened.

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2017, 2018, and 2019 were embarrassing and miserable but tolerable. Then, March 11, 2020, arrived. The World Health Organization (WHO) declared COVID-19 a pandemic. So began the hellacious battles over basic science, facts , masks, and taking care of each other.

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I watched in horror and disgust as the supposed leader of the country took, at best, a blasé attitude toward his frightened people and turned a blind eye to our death and suffering not only because he is a poor excuse of a human being lacking any scrap of kindess, decency, or empathy but also to score cheap political points in an election year. He was responsible for politicizing the few tools we had to protect ourselves from a disease we knew so little about.

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As if navigating a novel virus causing rapid rates of illness and death wasn't stressful enough, 2020 was also marked by high levels of violence against people of color, mostly by police. I watched the Breonna Taylors, George Floyds, and Ahmaud Arberys over and over again. I watched with admiration as people took to the streets in the middle of a pandemic to demand justice for the many lives cut way too short.

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Night after night there were protests: New York, Philadelphia, Minneapolis, Houston, Los Angeles. Coast to coast, people were fed up with the senseless slaughter and lack of accountabilty. Tensions came to a head on June 1, 2020, when peaceful protestors in Lafayette Square in Washington, D.C., were suddenly tear-gassed and forcibly cleared from the public area for an infamous photo op with a Bible in front of Saint John's Episcopal Church.

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It was after this blatant attack on the protestors' rights I became aware of Congressman John Lewis. I remember the image of him standing in Black Lives Matter Plaza. Unfortunately, I only learned about his incredible life of service and activism after his passing. His philosophy of getting into "good trouble" helped lend me the courage to begin breaking my silence and using my privileges to stand up for those being truly oppressed.

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As the 2020 election drew near, I was filled with resounding clarity: the individual occupying the White House must not serve another term due to the incompetence, instability, and danger he put us in every day. I had nearly made up my mind to register to vote, but I wasn't entirely sure my one small vote would matter. Then, I saw Barack Obama speak at the Democratic National Convention. His speech was the last shove I needed to follow through with my decision. I registered to vote soon afterward, and on October 16, 2020, I cast my fist ballot. Rest assured, it will not be my last.