The gymnasium was packed with freshmen buzzing around colorfully decorated tables that were hosting different clubs offered at the university. Students could choose anything from The Fencing Club, to the ever popular university radio— it’s head DJs were giving out nifty neon t-shirts because college students love nothing more than a free t-shirt. I scanned the room and hopped from one table to the next collecting free stuff thinking to myself, "Ah, the good old college experience." However, as cool as free stuff is, I felt I needed to choose a club where I could truly get involve —make something of this whole "college experience". Well nothing says involved like signing up for the Young Democrats during an election year. It was 2008 and it was the first year where serious contenders had broken the mold of aging white male. It was an exciting time for politics and to get involved in politics.
I enjoyed my time volunteering with the Young Democrats. Everything they did seemed important and possible. One night the seniors were all hyped on liberal sprit and had some of their recruits, including myself, travel in and out of dorms slipping pamphlets under doors, hoping to awaken enthusiasm among the young voters. I felt like a badass to be honest; running up and down hallways like some young radical stirring up a traditional public of the revolution that was coming. In reality, what we were doing probably looked like something a little less dramatic than a scene out of Les Misérables, but got a kick out of it. But I felt like I was making a difference, no matter how small.
One sunny fall morning I skipped my Freshman English class to attend a rally with the more senior Young Democrats. Hillary Clinton was speaking at the rally on behalf of Jeanne Shaheen, who was running for the office of U.S. Senator in the state of New Hampshire. If elected, Shaheen would be the first female U.S. Senator to represent the state. At the time I found this odd since New Hampshire seemed like such a liberal state, but it was nice to see that Shaheen was receiving strong support from a fellow female senator.
When we arrived at the town's civic center an attendant with an, "I'm important" clipboard attached to her hip, shuffled us students into the gymnasium. She then escorted us to the stage where bleachers had been set up for all of us to sit. In front was a small stage with a podium, we assumed where the Clinton and Shaheen would be speaking. We later found out that we were tp be the "young enthusiastic" crowd behind that candidate—basically the spirited background crowd that could be seen on T.V., which was AWESOME. I felt important and part of something, though I didn't know any of the other students and I was one of only a few lower class men, I was glad I decided to skip class. English can wait, political history and a lifetime of memories, not so much.
While we waited for the rally to begin the group’s leaders took bets on what Senator Clinton would be wearing. A red pant suit was thrown out as a suggestion, as well as a beige dress suit. I didn't chime in for fear of being wrong, but I found the chatter amusing.
A roar of cheers suddenly broke out and we all stood as if we were waiting for the bride to walk down the aisle. And there she was former First Lady and current U.S. Senator, Hillary Clinton—she was wearing a navy pant suit, a small disappointing snicker broke out among our group.
That afternoon I shook Hillary Clinton's hand and it’s a moment I will never forget. I was grateful to the college for allowing me such an opportunity and proud that I had motivated myself to get involve. As it would be Shaheen won in the election that year and became the first female U.S. Senator from New Hampshire. History was made. That day fear of repercussions or criticism for being at the rally never once crossed my mind. Yet, that would be the last time I got involved politically.
Eight years later and it seems the political tides are once again turning to an unfamiliar shore and people aren't quite sure what to do. But the public definitely has opinions. Opinions are good. They help direct schools of thought, enact change and make people, people. Opinions give us character and this nation, so it tells us, allows opinions to run free. But sometimes these forceful thoughts and words can stonewall others. Opinions can be bold, loud, angry and run on fear. However, they can encourage change and hope, but sometimes hope sings softer than fear.
This year the battle of the candidates has created a shouting match that can be heard across every social media platform. Almost everyone, it seems, is stating an opinion about the potential candidates, and it seems everyone else is commenting back with one. I've tried muttering an opinion here and there, but the truth is if you know me well enough you know who I'm voting for, if you don't, however, I’m not exactly advertising it. It's not because I don't feel that I can’t or that I don't care enough to say anything, to me, it feels as if stating my beliefs places me in the middle of a very messy battlefield. Posting a political status, subtle or loud, on any social media site, sets you or me up for potential criticism and comment from friends and family. Maybe that's the point of creating such a status, is to have a good old fashion Facebook comment showdown, but I don’t wish to be harassed for my opinions.
As wonderful as free speech is, and I do encourage it, I’m often discouraged by the lack of respect people have for their fellow’s opinion. The truth is that no status announcing who I'm in favor of is going to change my friends’ mind, at least that’s what I believe. This war on who we’re voting for, I can only imagine, must discourage others from sharing their beliefs for fear of a social commenting beat down. You have your reasons and I have mine, why can’t we leave it at that?
Nevertheless, there is a status that I do believe in posting. I am voting. As a citizen of this country I have the right to vote, as do us all, and I will use that right come the fall. I do know who I would like to vote for, and I have my reasons why, and because of those reasons when I go to my old middle school in November I will check the box with his or her name on it. It's as simple as that—no fancy memes or emotional videos, just my reasons, no one else's. If you get nothing from this article, statement piece, whatever, I hope you feel that no matter your opinions or beliefs you should go out and vote. A voice is a voice, and that should be good enough.
