See? It says so right on my little sticker.
Today Paul took off a little early from work and we went, as a family, down to our designated polling location, the fire station a few blocks from our home. Having learned from embarrassing kid-related voting debacles in years past, we took turns waiting in the car while each of us went inside and voted.
All was pretty quiet inside. Apart from one wisecracker jokingly offering to fill out the ballot for an older lady who was asking some questions about it, none of the voters really talked much.
I gave my name at the registration table, and the volunteer looked it up, then cheerfully handed me the book to sign. I asked if she needed to see my I.D., but the answer was no (a little worrisome). A soft-spoken gentleman with kind eyes handed me my 2 page ballot and briefly explained how to fill it out (scan-tron, anyone?) before waving me toward the seclusion of the booths scattered around the room.
Having already researched the choices, it took a mere three minutes to finish filling in the little bubbles. I placed the sheets back into the Top Secret Privacy Folder and walked them over to the Man With the Ballot Box. In what was most certainly a highly trained maneuver, he inserted the edge of the folder into the slot, tipping it so that my ballot slid neatly, and secretly, into the box on top of what I hope were hundreds of others.
And then, (here’s my favorite part) he asked me my name.
“Katrina,” I responded quietly, so as not to disturb the other voters. He stood up a little straighter and intoned to the room, “Katrina has voted.”
I struggled with a brief urge to add, “So say we all.”
But it made me feel…proud. With my head held high, I walked out of the polling place, holding the door open and boldly meeting the eyes of fellow Americans on their way to participate in the greatest privilege and responsibility we are given as citizens of this country.
Not too shabby for a Tuesday.