28/10/2024
A SIMPLE STORY: Friday was the third day of early voting in my town. I walked to the public library that morning to cast my vote then get on my way, knowing I had a busy day. I felt smart about my timing because I knew that (1) a lot of folks in my district had already voted, and (2) I was going to arrive a good 15 minutes before the polls opened.
That smart feeling evaporated when I opened the library door and saw a VERY long line of voters snaking around the rows of shelves, while dedicated poll workers circulated among us with clipboards and cards to fill out with name, address, and date of birth. “Has it been like this all week?,” I asked one of them. “Sure has,” he said. “Never saw anything like it.”
I stood in line for over an hour, enjoying the hushed company of strangers, before I was able to cast my vote. Alongside the young and the middle-aged in that line, there were a number of hunched-over elders, and everyone was eager to make sure they had a place to sit during the long wait. These Good Samaritans were saying, quite literally, “We’ve got your back!” I, too, have a bad back, but I stood without pain for the entire hour, and I know why: I felt upheld by the clear evidence that so many of my neighbors care about one another and about this election.
The stakes in this election are staggering, and the downside possibilities are devastating to contemplate. Like today's poet, when I find myself burdened by the gravity of the present moment, I find hope in life’s constant stream of small mercies: “Excuse me, neighbor, why don’t you sit in this chair while I hold your place in line. I’ll come back here and get you when it’s your turn to vote.”
I cast my vote for Kamala Harris who has a spirit, a vision and a set of plans that represent hope for America. Her opponent is a miserable excuse for a man, one of the worst presidents ever, a creepy, Hitler-admiring thug who would sooner pull a chair out from under you than offer you a place to rest if you aren’t willing to lick his boots. From his tariffs to his mass deportations to his invisible "concept" for healthcare, he does not have a single plan that would not plunge this country into chaos.
The people in my neighborhood give every sign they want a return to dignity, decency and sanity in American life. If the worst happens on Nov. 5th, these are the people I’ll gather with to grieve AND to sing “We Shall Overcome,” as we continue the endless struggle to protect our political birthright and secure our children’s future. But today I hope and pray that overcoming the far-right threat to the U.S.A. is already underway among voters who know what it means "not to betray one another" but to have each others’ back…