When I was a in elementary school — way before I could vote — I liked to research the politicians running for election in my area and try to convince my parents to vote for my favorite one. I remember reading through all of the pamphlets local politicians dropped off at our door, searching up each of their websites, and making a pro and con list of what I liked and disliked about each of them. At the local Taste of Wallingford festival, I would collect information sheets from the political booths as if they were Pokémon cards, trying to understand the values of each party. Although I received a few skeptical glances from adults at the festival, my elementary school self continued to stay informed about the issues I cared about.
By middle school, I began going to political rallies with my friends to show our support for campaigns. In eighth grade, sporting a pair of quintessentially 2016 neon yellow sunglasses, I attended a Bernie Sanders rally in New Haven. As I stood at the outskirts of the crowd, I smiled at the chance to feel involved — I was so excited to be there. I remember how ridiculous some of my friends and family thought I was for caring so passionately about an election I couldn’t even vote in. But I didn’t care; I continued attending rallies, holding onto my excitement to be part of something bigger than myself.
I’ve always been active on social media, too — whether in trying to make my own voice heard, or in trying to amplify the voices of others. Usually, I post about current events, repost information about important issues, or raise awareness for the causes I care about in hopes to keep myself and those around me updated. I have received criticism from many people for my posts — not for my actual political views, but for the idea of my putting any political opinions on social media. To those critics, I was “too young” — I couldn’t vote, so it shouldn’t matter what I had to say, whether they agreed with me or not. Luckily, I didn’t care. I kept posting, making my voice heard online since I couldn’t yet make it heard in an election.
All these years, I’ve been getting involved in political conversations, working to stay as informed as I could, and trying to make my voice heard as a young adult. Now, I feel as though through all these years of political activism has prepared me for this moment — for this election. This year, I’m finally 18 years old and able to vote. It just so happens to be one of the most historic and high-stakes elections in American history. I’ve been waiting for my whole life for the opportunity to voice my opinion through the ballot box. Finally being able to do so feels surreal.
This election, I’m voting for Joe Biden. I’m voting for Biden because this election is about more than politics: it’s about basic human rights. For the past four years, we’ve seen attacks on practically every marginalized community in the United States, whether it be related to gender, sexuality, race, or countless other identifiers. We cannot let our country endure another four years of hatred. If I have any say in the matter, we won’t.
All these years, I’ve been told I was too young: too young to care, too young for my voice to matter, too young to understand. But now, as I prepare to vote in my first election, I’m not.
Maybe, as it turns out, I never have been. Whether you are old enough to vote this year or not, let your voice be heard. As young people and the future of this nation, we are the ones who will have to grapple with the long-term effects of this election. Now, in this historic year, it is our time and our responsibility to take matters into our own hands.
