An Epiphany for Democracy

Freedom is a peculiar thing. We claim to value it. We claim it as a virtue, one uniquely or particularly American. But those who are truly free, truly without encumbrances and truly committed to being and doing precisely as they are convinced they ought are pariahs in our society.

So we also believe in containment, fences, boundaries, demarcations, and after all, lines in the sand. We want to know for certain that you are or are not one of us. We want to hold you and our moral and ethical definitions up to the light in search of a match.

The phrase "Don't tread on me," and its kin, is not about freedom in any sort of real sense. Don't tread on me, but do tread on someone else, preferably the person whom I disrespect and devalue. Don't tell me what to do; I've got this. But him, he's doing it differently, wrong. So make him stop and help him see the (my) light.

And democracy? We only believe in it, it seems, if the vote goes our way. Otherwise, it's a sham, a fraud, a conspiracy. We believe that WE are educated and informed voters, but everyone else? They're dupes, deceived, evil, self-interested, greedy, and foolish. And if we're honest, we wish they would, or could, just never vote at all.


This past Tuesday, as I stood in line to cast my vote, I struggled with these fears and prejudices. At first, I looked around at my fellow citizens with suspicion and willed those who disagreed with me to grow impatient with the long line and go home. But then something strange happened. For the first time in the 12 years since I've been a voter, I looked around at people completing their information sheets, casting their ballots, and leaving with the "I'm a Georgia Voter" sticker boldly affixed to their lapels, and I was overwhelmed.

I stood among men and women who cared enough to take an hour out of their day to be a citizen. I was grateful that my one vote counted exactly as much as their one vote counted. After all of the gesturing and opining, the strong arming and chest puffing that marks election season, it comes down to this: you and I, doing our duty and doing our best to make the right decision for ourselves, our families, our communities, and our country. This past Tuesday, I finally saw how democracy not only protects equality but is also, in the end, a great equalizer. I was so proud.

So often in this country, we are defined by our lowest points and our most selfish drives. We're no more than our craving for prestige, power, and wealth. And so often, these definitions are fair. But on (or before) November 6, we were the greatest version of ourselves, no matter what guy we voted for. The polling place was by far the most prestigious and powerful place to be.