A short note about the right to vote

by Don Wheeler

I have faithfully voted over the years - and in fact was one of the early benefittors of the change in voting age to 18. In the first Presidential Election of my era of eligibility in 1976, I strongly favored Senator Frank Church (D-Idaho) and voted for him in the Illinois primary. He would, of course, eventually make way for Jimmy Carter. So my first vote in a Presidential general election was for former Governor Jimmy Carter. Since then I voted for John Anderson, Walter Mondale, Michael Dukakis, Bill Clinton, Bill Clinton, Al Gore, John Edwards (John Kerry's name was in the way)...

My wife was born in Canada, but lived there only briefly. As a result she is a Canadian citizen. It seems that George W. Bush's performance (and perhaps a rather pesky husband) was what it took to goad her into becoming an American citizen - which she officially became ealier this year.

She voted in her first United States election today and Sarah (our five year old) went with her. We plan to have Sarah go to the polls with one of us each time we have the chance to vote.

Paddy beamed a bit when I saw her later. I will go do my part shortly.

Democracy is not a spectator sport.

And in honor of this great day of opportunity in Indiana, I share with you this beautiful essay by Wade Edwards - the late son of John and Elizabeth.


This essay was written by Wade in the fall of his junior year. It was entered into the National Conversation Essay Contest, conducted by the Voice of America and the National Endowment for the Humanities. Wade was one of ten national winners. In March 1996, three weeks before his death, he attended the award ceremonies in Washington, D.C., which included a visit with First Lady Hillary Rodham Clinton in the private residence at the White House.

FANCY CLOTHES AND OVERALLS
BY WADE EDWARDS

A little boy and his father walk into a firehouse. He smiles at people standing outside. Some hand pamphlets to his father. They stand in line. Finally, they go together into a small booth, pull the curtain closed, and vote. His father holds the boy up and shows him which levers to move.

"We're ready, Wade. Pull the big lever now."

With both hands, the boy pulls the lever. There it is: the sound of voting. The curtain opens. The boy smiles at an old woman leaving another booth and at a mother and daughter getting into line. He is not certain exactly what they have done. He only knows that he and his father have done something important. They have voted.

This scene takes place all over the country.

"Pull the lever, Yolanda."

"Drop the ballot in the box for me, Pedro."

Wades, Yolandas, Pedros, Nikitas, and Chuis all over the United States are learning the same lesson: the satisfaction, pride, importance, and habit of voting. I have always gone with my parents to vote. Sometimes lines are long. There are faces of old people and young people, voices of native North Carolinians in southern drawls and voices of naturalized citizens with their foreign accents.

There are people in fancy clothes and others dressed in overalls. Each has exactly the same one vote. Each has exactly the same say in the election. There is no place in America where equality means as much as in the voting booth.

My father took me that day to the firehouse. Soon I will be voting. It is a responsibility and a right. It is also an exciting national experience. Voters have different backgrounds, dreams, and experiences, but that is the whole point of voting. Different voices are heard.

As I get close to the time I can register and vote, it is exciting. I become one of the voices. I know I will vote in every election. I know that someday I will bring my son with me and introduce him to one of the great American experiences: voting.

c. Wade Edwards Foundation 1996


...and, as read by his little sister who never got a chance to know him