I stood there in my polling booth with my simple Bic pen, filling in and filling in that precious circle to make my choice for President nice and dark to make sure my vote was correctly counted. The moment felt entirely ordinary. Exquisitely surreal. Ironically antiquated (paper and ink?). And somehow the substance of the future. All at the same time.
While filling out my ballot, my mind's eye kept re-visiting scenes from Iron Jawed Angels, mainly the ones of Alice Paul in prison and being force-fed. Women were imprisoned and went on hunger strikes so that I can hold this ballot. Women gave the work of their lives so that I can take part in my democracy.
Walking back from the polling booth, kicking fall leaves under my feet, I felt my stomach flopping—Election Day nerves—and the tears start to come. That room had been so ordinary; the paper ballot too simple for all we were participating in. I had been more awake this time than four years ago, and my soul wanted fireworks. And alas, I had only a Bic pen and tiny circles to express that which surged in me.
I was realizing that something deep had changed in me from the last time I had cast a ballot. I had stopped giving in to cynicism, and I was finding this new sense of hope disorienting.
My dear friend Dr. Susan Hall (one of the co-organizers for the Seattle Iron Jawed Angels event) expressed my feelings well when she wrote to me this week: "I heard an African-American man talking on NPR this past week about the election's meaning for Black people, and he said something to the effect of: we have had a lack of audacity of imagination. I think that very phrase would fit women (of all skin colors)…we've settled for less than the full emancipation for which our foremothers fought and dreamed. When women take steps forward for themselves and for other women, they are living toward the imagination of a better society, a better world."
For me, voting last Tuesday felt like taking bounding steps forward—and not just because I voted for a history-making candidate—but also because I cast my vote in the awareness of the legacy of my foremothers. I was conscious of the cost of my vote. And I was ready to risk believing again that groups of women and men—committed to imagination and hope and justice—can change the world.
So that was my experience voting after watching Iron Jawed Angels. What was yours??? We would love to know. Please feel free to leave a comment and let us know how you experienced Election Day after watching such a compelling story of women's suffrage.
While filling out my ballot, my mind's eye kept re-visiting scenes from Iron Jawed Angels, mainly the ones of Alice Paul in prison and being force-fed. Women were imprisoned and went on hunger strikes so that I can hold this ballot. Women gave the work of their lives so that I can take part in my democracy.
Walking back from the polling booth, kicking fall leaves under my feet, I felt my stomach flopping—Election Day nerves—and the tears start to come. That room had been so ordinary; the paper ballot too simple for all we were participating in. I had been more awake this time than four years ago, and my soul wanted fireworks. And alas, I had only a Bic pen and tiny circles to express that which surged in me.
I was realizing that something deep had changed in me from the last time I had cast a ballot. I had stopped giving in to cynicism, and I was finding this new sense of hope disorienting.
My dear friend Dr. Susan Hall (one of the co-organizers for the Seattle Iron Jawed Angels event) expressed my feelings well when she wrote to me this week: "I heard an African-American man talking on NPR this past week about the election's meaning for Black people, and he said something to the effect of: we have had a lack of audacity of imagination. I think that very phrase would fit women (of all skin colors)…we've settled for less than the full emancipation for which our foremothers fought and dreamed. When women take steps forward for themselves and for other women, they are living toward the imagination of a better society, a better world."
For me, voting last Tuesday felt like taking bounding steps forward—and not just because I voted for a history-making candidate—but also because I cast my vote in the awareness of the legacy of my foremothers. I was conscious of the cost of my vote. And I was ready to risk believing again that groups of women and men—committed to imagination and hope and justice—can change the world.
So that was my experience voting after watching Iron Jawed Angels. What was yours??? We would love to know. Please feel free to leave a comment and let us know how you experienced Election Day after watching such a compelling story of women's suffrage.
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