When I was a young student, bright-eyed and curious, you spoke of a future where ordinary people like me could make a great difference. Voting was the means to that end, and we students regarded that idea with reverence and fascination. Through a simple mark on a sheet of paper, each and every American could peacefully express their opinions and select a leader that was both competent and trustworthy. To us, the president was a wise and virtuous role model, chosen from one of two respectfully opposed sides. For well over a decade, I waited eagerly for my chance to fully participate in our most sacred democratic process.
Now, in the 58th presidential election -- the first for me and for thousands of other young citizens -- I truly feel cheated. For years, I and my classmates had been assured that, when the time comes, we would be supplied with two equally merited candidates and then equipped with the knowledge to select the best one. In the end, we had all been left in a state of confusion and fright. Whether or not you were aware of the fact, you had romanticized the voting process and concealed the harsh realities from us.
You never told us that the election would make me question my role as a citizen.
You never told us that the election would electrify college campuses across the nation with non-stop debate.
You never told us that the election would tarnish our country’s reputation in the international community.
You never told us that the election would irreparably tear apart families and friendships.
You never told me that the election would cause me to wake up in the dead of the night to the sounds of my closest friends, sobbing out of fear for their livelihoods as the poll results trickled in.
I shouldn’t blame this on you. It wouldn’t be very fair -- you were just as idealistic as we were.
You did share with us a powerful axiom: there is strength in solidarity. As citizens and as young people, there is nothing stopping us from coming together to support each other through the most critical points in our nation’s history. As a generation, we are tired of being silent and of being silenced. Luckily for us, there are a multitude of outlets for expressing our opinions, and where they are lacking, we pave our own way. Yes, we may disagree among ourselves or with other generations in our pursuit of truth. But it is the pursuit of truth that leads to progress.
Democracy does not end when the polls close. Instead, it is a continuous process of action, evaluation, and renewal that is as strong as the people that comprise it. You ignited in us a lifelong interest in our country’s wellbeing that transcends any political inclinations. You opened our eyes to the sheer variety of debates in which we may choose to engage. You gave us the hope for a future where our voices resonate far beyond the voting booth.
Those lessons are much more powerful than anything else you have taught us in the classroom.
