Election Day

My mind, body and soul are on the edge right now, racing, racing, racing. I think constantly of next Tuesday, when we will find out how the future of our country will be shaped. I am simultaneously filled with extreme sadness, anxiety and panic, and jubilation over the potentional outcome. By way of this harrowing example, I can now clearly see and understand how intermingled life and politics are.





This is not the first election that I have been physically and emotionally struck by. The depression that followed Bush's reelection was minimized by my uninvolvement in the political process due to age and being involved in only my immediate (at the time, high school) surroundings. Life for me then consisted of International Baccalaureatte courses, art, dance, theatre and friends.

My first voting experience was in my freshman year of college and it proved to be a complete disappointment. I was awkwardly registered at my brother's house in California and still had my California driver's license, although I had not lived in my former home state for a year and a half, spending a year in Arizona and then moving to Oregon for school. My ballot arrived later than it should have, as I tried to vote absentee, and even then the issues were not an immediate concern for me. Of course, I was all for funding schools and ensuring civil liberties (although that particular was fairly routine and did not have any striking issues), but California was no longer my state to lay claim to. I hadn't had a official (read: not under-the-table) job by that point and so I was not even paying taxes. I am fairly positive that my ballot arrived too late, and I was left disillusioned, wondering what good my voice could do and why I saw myself as involved in the process.

After settling in at my college, exploring Portland and getting a feel for the place, it started to feel like home. Home. That was a geo-emotional relationship I had not formed with a place since childhood. I became an Oregonian, I started to get informed about Portland politics and like, a many liberal arts college student, about domestic and international affairs. I was old enough to vote, had developed the interest and the passion for it, and now all I needed was an election to excercise my new-found citizenship and treasured status as an Oregon resident. I strongly believe that I needed to establish this sense of home in a regional sense before I could begin to consider myself or act in the interest of other Americans. I had a job and witnessed the way that taxes swallowed up a portion that appeared significantly large to me, a low-earning college student. But then I saw the measures and the individuals, schools and small businesses behind those measures, and my tax contribution, as well as my opportunity to have a voice in how those taxes were spread out, made it all matter.

When Sam Adams and Sho Dozono went head-to-head earlier this year, I was watching eagerly from the sidelines. I was a Portlander, through and through, and this was my election just as much as it was any other Multnomah County resident's. I developed what was to be called a "political cry" which I will readily admit to be the epitome of cheesiness. Think JFK kissing babies as onlookers sob... Only not that bad. I watched Sam Adams' campaign videos constantly and kept tabs on his website. I growled under my breath at "Sho Gets It. Sho Gets It Done." lawn signs. "What did that even mean?," I thought. What is that weird get 'er done mentality? I would much rather "Move Portland Forward," thank you very much. I looked at polls, read [alternative] weeklies keeping tabs on the campaign, and then... I voted.

I voted in the fantasic Oregon way using a ballot by mail. This system appeals to me on so many levels, as a voter can actively research and contemplate his/her outlook and the politician or measure involved. There is no standing in a little booth circling options nervously but rather a crucial thought process and frequent democratic debate. That is what voting looks like for me. That is how I believe it should function.

Seeing Sam Adams' victory made my heart swell with pride. "Look!," I though, "Look! He was successfull and I helped! I played a role in electing who I, and many others, felt was most fit for the job." Since then I have been convinced time and time again that I, and that we, the people of Portland, made the right choice. I frequently went to art openings and events at the city hall, where I saw Sam Adams (and subsequently got star-struck... each and every time) as well as in a quirky North Portland parade. Yes, he is absolutely right for the job.

The election that is now at hand, and in which I have already cast my absentee vote, is one that can implement change on a much, much, much grander scale. As liberals, we have faced numerous disappointments and realized some of our worst fears over the past eight years. Eight years. Think about that. I was twelve when George W. Bush came into office. My teenage years and begining of early adulthood have been claimed by that government. I do not want to be a disillusioned American, although I do find the gallows humor that many other liberals use to ease the pain of the situation rather hilarious in a soviet fashion.

So now, my thoughts are consumed with this mantra: "Please Obama. Yes, Obama. This nation needs Obama." I have voted, I have debated with others, and I have researched my views. Aside from offering time or money, what more is there to do?

Please Obama. Yes, Obama. This Nation needs Obama.