Election '12 Almost Made Me Believe In God Again

This lovely election night, it is a breezy 65 degrees in Nevada. The stars are out, my laundry is sorted, and I made my own chicken nuggets from scratch.

And Barack Obama is President again.

I woke up this morning at 6:30am, ridiculously eager to get going. Last time this happened, I was a senior at Amherst, voting in NJ by absentee ballot. My previous post will tell you all about how wonderful it was, how magical that the first election I could ever vote in yielded a Black President. (Note the capitalization.)

Today, I danced around in the kitchen in my "I SUPPORT LOVE" t-shirt while my Romney-voting fiance ate oatmeal (gross) and took his sweet-ass time getting ready. Walking into the high school, I sang loudly, "Get up, stand up, stand up for your rights!" while Paul pretended not to know me. Inside, I joked around with the volunteers, high-fived an old dude, and got not one, but two stickers saying, "I voted today in Clark County, Nevada!" Today, I voted for Barack Obama and for the Henderson libraries, and I am damned proud of doing so.

There is something about voting that makes a person feel worthwhile. Something about doing your part, exercising not only your civic duty but your civil rights. And something so, so glorious about speaking your mind and having it be heard. I have never cared so much about a presidential election. (This was way better than last time.)

A couple days ago, Paul and I almost came to blows over this election. By the end of our dispute, I think we both were crying. He finally explained to me why he felt the need to vote Romney. And I still didn't understand. There's a quote that's been going around by Doug Wright:

“I wish my moderate Republican friends would simply be honest. They all say they’re voting for Romney because of his economic policies (tenuous and ill-formed as they are), and that they disagree with him on gay rights. Fine. Then look me in the eye, speak with a level clear voice, and say, 'My taxes and take-home pay mean more than your fundamental civil rights, the sanctity of your marriage, your right to visit an ailing spouse in the hospital, your dignity as a citizen of this country, your healthcare, your right to inherit, the mental welfare and emotional well-being of your youth, and your very personhood.' It’s like voting for George Wallace during the Civil Rights movements, and apologizing for his racism. You’re still complicit. You’re still perpetuating anti-gay legislation and cultural homophobia. You don’t get to walk away clean, because you say you 'disagree' with your candidate on these issues.”

That's it for me. I simply do not understand how anyone can prioritize the economy over the civil rights of anybody, ever. Paul kept saying that it was unfair, that it's not that black and white. But the thing is, it is that black and white. Oppression is oppression. And it terrified me that I could be with someone who didn't think so. And what was worse was when I turned on the TV today, finally, to see how the East Coast was doing, and the electoral college was all about Romney.

If there's something glorious about voting, there's something utterly nerve-wracking about the possibility of one's heart and body - one's entire human existence - in the hands of a man who doesn't care. In a flash, I envisioned myself crying on the couch in my underwear, bemoaning the loss of my civil rights and gnawing helplessly on chicken nuggets while my dog loyally sat watching over her heartbroken mistress.

And now I am crying [tears of joy] on the couch in my underwear, helplessly gnawing on chicken nuggets and trying to balance the feeling of complete relief with the feeling of desperately needing to run around the streets of Las Vegas naked in celebration.

All of this is to say that as I watched the numbers climb tonight, I realized that I didn't necessarily trust the people of my country to make the right decision. And, quasi-atheist/agnostic that I am, it annoys the hell out of me when a large portion of a certain party calls on God to help out our country. As far as I'm concerned, the help half our country needs is moral. If people are bigoted enough to feel that they can determine folks' right to marry who they love, or a woman's right to deal with her body herself (also, that old white man on the television machine definitely just said the phrase "a Latino problem"), then maybe we do straight up need a law that tells us not to be closed-minded dicks who prioritize our own financial well-being over anything else.

My writing just stopped being eloquent, I think.

I'm amazed, guys. It is nothing short of miraculous that as a society we have gotten here. And we need to keep going. Miracles are a great booster, but it's on us.

For tonight, America, rest easy. Barry's at the wheel, and he's not a closed-minded dick. 

PS, Paul didn't get to vote and while I felt bad for him I was also totally stoked that I wouldn't move all the way to a battleground state where an individual's vote actually has a large chance of swaying an electoral vote just to have my vote canceled out by my other half. Everyone celebrate. Our relationship is politically safe for another four years.