I voted! It always makes me a little emotional. It feels historical and dramatic and not-a-big-deal all at once. My voice, my thoughts, my political leanings will be heard, even if it's just a drop in a bucket.
Here's how it goes: I pick up my ballot with professionalism. Walk to my booth. And as I'm slowly filling in circles a montage of suffragette protests plays in my mind. They're picketing, they're starving themselves, they're stopping traffic and getting thrown into jail. Votes for women!! If it wasn't for them, I would be banned from the polling place by baton-waving policemen. My voice wouldn't be heard. I wouldn't matter to my own government. Not a true citizen but a women "too stupid" to be trusted with the task of choosing my government representatives. Appalling.
The music swells as I turn in my ballot. The ghosts of Alice Paul, Emmeline Pankhurst, Susan B. Anthony and numerous others -- in their billowy blouses and oversized hats -- look on, arms linked in solidarity. Thank you, ladies.