Hey, folks… I just got back in from the polls and was so filled up that I was almost in tears. You see, my daughter turned 18 this year and her college is near the house, so she retained her same polling site. Of course you know that a rule in my house is, if you’re not registered and don’t vote, you can’t live here, LOL–seriously–Big Momma’s House Rules!
So, I called her at 6 AM–which is heresy for college students, but we had made a pact. She met me at 6:30AM on the front doorstep, sleepy but present, so we could vote together… but not before I found my dad’s favorite tie and my mother’s wedding band. They couldn’t be here in the flesh to see something that they’d marched for… so I took a little bit of them with me to the polls. But as I got in line with my child, yep, holding her hand because I was so excited, she said… “Mom, you look like you’re about to cry.” I was 
I started fanning my face and trying to speak without getting choked up to tell her, “Baby, do you know how many people didn’t live to see this day in our family? Do you know how many elders sat at Thanksgiving and Christmas and at summer barbecues talking about the one day/what if? Do you know how blessed I feel to be standing in line with my child–one her first day of pulling the lever–and THIS is who you get to vote for your first time?! OMG!”
As I said that to her, other people congratulated my baby-girl, giving her kudos for being a first time voter and complimenting her on standing in line with her mom. I started pulling my dad’s tie out and showing folks… “This was for the brother who couldn’t make it.” My child wanted to drop dead of embarrassment, but other folks in line understood. I told her this wasn’t about a matter of black or white, it was about making a choice for someone you thought had integrity and hope and had lived his life a certain way (walked the walk and not just talked the talk)… but more importantly than the choice of candidate it was about exercising your right–no matter what your flavor… it was about being involved in the process of change, the process of casting the ballot. Folks took the water hoses, the dogs, braved police lines, and faced lynch mobs … all so we could do this one thing—VOTE.
After a moment, my kid whipped out her cell phone. She started furiously texting. I thought my long-winded speech had fallen on deaf ears until she showed me her phone. She had a message to her entire phone book. “WAKE UP THIS IS HISTORY–OMG DON’T BLOW IT!” The next thing I knew, her phone was vibrating and people in line were clapping as she was telling other young folks, “Get the hell up and get out of bed, you can’t be playing today, for real!”
Needless to say, that’s when the tears fell… I am soooo very, very proud–the torch has been passed!
ROCK THE VOTE! BIG PHILLY HUG… and do your part!
Hugs, Leslie!
Well said to both of you! You’re a woman after my own heart Leslie, I used similar arguments to my girls using the Suffragette Movement in this country, eldest always votes and youngest can’t wait to do so. Your daughter deserves the applause, she did what had to be done and raised the Isis high.
I’m taking my daughter with me. She is only ten but I teach her the things that the schools don’t, so she is very aware of the struggles her ancestors went through. I want her to pull the lever to her future.
Finally I can point to someone and say to my child, he looks like you. Now she can really say, YES I CAN!
OMG!!!
I am crying and doing the happy dance right now!!!! I am so proud to be an American right now!!! We finaly took that step forward; for those who said that we were not ready as a country to see an African American President, I say yes we were!!! We were just waiting for the right person!!
History got made! It’s all good so lets see where we go from here ^ ^