My 18-year-old niece voted in her first presidential election this week. Early voting had begun in the state where she lives.
I smiled when I saw the photo her mother sent to me. She looked so proud, showing her “I Voted” sticker. I am proud of her and happy for her.
In case you’re wondering, I have no idea how she voted. We’ve never had a political conversation.
As I prepare to vote in my 12th presidential election, I think back to that first one. I, too, was 18, and glad I did not have to wait two or three years for the next one to come around. I was an idealistic college student and had registered to vote not long before. I registered with a political party back then, but dropped that registration not long after and have not been a member of a party since.
I went to a couple meetings of a campus political club, but the leader seemed more interested in making a scene than in discussing serious issues.
And, as always, there were serious issues.
I was not happy with the performance of the incumbent president at the time and I was not impressed by his main challenger. I opted to support a third-party candidate — did a little work for him and, of course, voted for him. I knew he wouldn’t win, but I followed my heart.
Elections were different back then. There was a civility that’s missing now. Sure, there were attack ads, but not the never-ending, hair-on-fire drama of the (often misleading) potshots that fill every commercial break on television and fill my mailbox before Congressional elections every two years in October.
Debates were serious affairs, and worth listening to. Again, they were not without one-liners and “gotcha” moments, but they were based on policy and occasionally made news. We’re poorer, now, for the loss of such discourse.
The influx of money, both public and dark, in elections has changed the game, as have social media. No longer are politics something to think about only during the few months leading up to an election. Social media has them in our face all the time and has effectively funneled us into two silos — emphasizing our differences and causing us to forget the many things we have in common.
It seems unlikely we will ever again see an electoral college victory like Lyndon Johnson’s 496-52 win in 1964 over Barry Goldwater or Ronald Reagan’s 525-13 rout of Walter Mondale 20 years later. People are just too polarized.
But I have hopes that, when one of this year’s candidates is no longer in play — due to his third consecutive loss of the popular vote and his second loss in the electoral college OR when he cannot constitutionally continue after a second term — we can at least return to a situation where candidates accept the results of elections, when the defeated will accept the expressed will of the people, congratulate the victor and move on.
I do understand that I’m getting older, and my nostalgia for such things may not have a place in the world to come. The wave of the future may be something many of us cannot envision, just as the changes in technology and so many other facets of modern life have been. Maybe world events will fundamentally change things. Maybe internal strife will tear us apart or, perhaps, pull us together.
My decision on whom to vote for in the presidential election was sealed when one of the parties nominated the least fit person ever put forward. But I’m watching the down-ballot races, too, and have been disappointed in some of the campaign rhetoric I’ve seen there. Attack ads may convince some to support those the ads are meant to boost, but in one case, a candidate has lost my vote by placing or approving hateful messages.
Many say, “I just want it to be over.” That’s too bad. Our democracy is messy, but it’s necessary. It needs to be better, but it needs to go on.
I mostly hope 18-year-olds continue to be proud to vote and that they remain committed to doing it throughout life.