When I was younger, I often avoided discussions about politics. My hesitation came from a lack of understanding of the political landscape, leaving me feeling unprepared to engage in debates. I couldn’t articulate my own political beliefs, and although I could recognize key figures in my party, I struggled to feel confident in my opinions.
Election seasons would pass me by, and while I made sure to vote every four years, I was often unaware of what Congress actually did or who my representatives were. That changed dramatically after the tragic events at Virginia Tech.
In April 2007, 32 innocent students lost their lives to a disturbed classmate, and I watched the news coverage unfold with a heavy heart. Conversations about gun control, campus safety, and mental health services filled the airwaves, and I couldn’t help but think about my son, who was about to start kindergarten. Who would ensure his safety at school? What support was available for those struggling with mental illness? I realized I had no answers but was determined to find them.
A week later, I learned about a local politician hosting a pancake breakfast, and I knew I had to attend. After arranging for a babysitter, I walked into that fire hall, nerves bubbling inside me. Who was I to question a government official? But I knew I had a responsibility as a mother to advocate for my child’s safety.
As I poured syrup on my pancakes, I took a deep breath and waited for my chance to speak. When the politician was finally ready to take questions, I felt a mix of fear and empowerment. I stood up, twisting my wedding ring nervously, and asked him what he planned to do to protect our children in light of the recent tragedy. I felt like I was channeling my inner superhero.
To his credit, he responded thoughtfully. He spoke about funding issues and the complexities of law enforcement budgets. While he didn’t have all the answers, the simple act of being listened to made me feel heard. At the end of the breakfast, the local fire chief introduced himself and reassured me that he would do everything in his power to keep my son safe, sharing plans and school blueprints that eased my fears.
When I left that breakfast, I was filled with a sense of empowerment—not just from the pancakes, but from having found my voice. That fall, I cast my first vote in a local election, and it felt incredible.
That’s why I vote. Not to engage in conflict or to criticize opposing viewpoints. I vote because it gives me control in a chaotic political climate. When I hear distressing rhetoric in the news, I remind myself that my vote matters. I vote because the representatives in my community are people like me, and we are all part of this great democracy, as the Constitution states.
I vote because I’m no longer that timid woman I used to be. I vote because not long ago, women were denied the right to have their voices heard at the polls. I vote because I stand firm in my beliefs and refuse to shy away from political conversations. I vote because it feels empowering to take action and make my voice count.
So, whatever it takes, whether you need to arrange for a babysitter, bring your kids along, or take a break from work, make sure you VOTE on November 8. And if you want to explore more about home insemination and the journey to parenthood, check out this insightful post on home insemination kits. For more information on pregnancy resources, visit this excellent resource.
In summary, exercising your right to vote empowers you as a woman, a mother, and a citizen. It allows you to influence the world around you and ensures your voice is part of the conversation.