While standing in line in the hallway of a public library turned polling place, I noticed there were a few things not present:
Poll tax collectors
Protesters (although I might have welcomed their presence)
Purple dyed fingers
A few things that were present:
Late teen wearing a Bob Marley t-shirt
Lone woman with a cane
Thirty-something mother and child
Retiree parking his bike (unlocked)
Man in a suit getting into a Ferrari
People of color
Woman wearing a scarf over her head
Retired couple speaking Spanish
... all wearing "I Voted" stickers.
Voting is my right. Given to me because of my lucky fortune of birthplace. But, the things I saw at the voting booth were not of luck or unearned fortune. These displays of peaceful, inclusive, democratic exercise of the people were made without fear. Each were exercising their authority in the face of authority. Were the scenes born only from a birthright? No, they were argued for by largely white haired men and women in the halls of government and courthouses. They were demanded in the fires and fiery voices in the streets. And, never will I forget, they were bought with the sweaty brows and spilled blood of youth in forests, beaches, rice paddies, and deserts of lands, and waters, near and far.