There were two times, one in the '60s and one in the '70s, when something changed my life dramatically,
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My first vote using a paper ballot and a rubber "x" stamp
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“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.” — Margaret Mead
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Like many baby boomers, I cast my first vote for president a few months after graduating college. But I never got a chance to vote for the candidate of my choice.

I had heard Bobby Kennedy speak on my OU campus, and I was ready to help change the world by voting for him.

Sadly, that opportunity was stripped away. Bobby Kennedy was struck down by Sirhan Sirhan’s bullet a few days after my graduation in June, 1968.

I had been a junior in high school when John Kennedy was killed, and my shock and sadness over his brother’s death ran just as deep.

The lure of ideals

Young educated voters love embracing idealistic candidates, and young Bobby Kennedy seemed to define the idealism of the 1960s.

That was so long ago, though, and so much has changed in America. I wondered this week whether to even tackle a prompt on voting, because I have reached a point where I’ve become jaded about all politics.

A voting primer

It’s not only the politicians or the influence peddling that depress and/or scare the hell out of me. And my skepticism has nothing to do with election security. As of now anyway, American elections are probably the most secure and legitimate in the world.

What twists my gut is the basis upon which too many voters cast their votes. I don’t care anymore if voters disagree over idealism or pragmatism, or whether they vote as Republicans or Democrats.

But I do care if people of any party, who cannot or will not distinguish between fact and dangerous fantasy, cast those precious votes.

A forgotten fact?

I’ve been a journalist and writer for several decades because I believe in the  role factual information plays in a free society: A free and objective press is needed so voters can make informed decisions at the polls. The press is to stand as a Fourth Estate, monitoring the three branches of government; holding them accountable.

So how’s that working today?

How does that work when so many voters are not interested in facts or the truth that is anchored by them? And how does it work when “mainstream press” is used as a pejorative term by half the country who seem to prefer a press their ideology instead? And when the exacting reporting of modern-day Woodwards and Bernsteins is mocked, and voters instead flock to Fox and Newsmax for baseless theories parading as fact?

Two halves of the puzzle

As the Continental Congress met from 1786-1788, Thomas Jefferson wrote about the importance of newspapers and said, “If I had to choose between a government without newspapers or a newspaper without a government, I would not hesitate a moment to prefer the latter.”

He understood that any government was doomed if the country had no free press.

But, while that passage is often quoted, the rest of Jefferson’s statement is often ignored, if not completely unknown. Realizing that his thought was only half-complete, Jefferson continued: “By that I mean that every man should receive those newspapers and be able to read them.”

Journalists can’t do it all themselves. The people of a democracy must utilize their right to get the facts and to pay attention to them. After all, it’s not only a right, but an important responsibility.

So, sad as I am about politics, I still vote and did so as recently as two days ago. I can’t imagine not having my vote count in any election I deem important. But I do my homework before going to the polls.

A light in the dark

On February 17, 2017, The Washington Post unveiled its first slogan in 140 years of publishing. It was a slogan that was popularized by its most famous reporter, Bob Woodward.

The slogan is simple, profound, and should be etched on a monument on the capitol mall:

“Democracy Dies in Darkness.”

Election Day Blues

I don’t remember the first time I voted,  and altho a knee-jerk liberal,  I’ve never been particularly savvy about politics.  But my mother was very much so,  and I’m sure on my first Election Day  I took her advice as I usually have ever since   – “Vote Democratic;  and if candidates run on both the Democratic and a more progressive ticket vote for them on the latter;   and if there’s a woman on the ballot,  vote for her”.  (See Getting Woke and The Fortune Cookie Candidate)

But there was a more recent Election Day I remember vividly –  all too vividly –  November 9, 2016.

Our polling place is a school gym a few blocks from our Manhattan apartment,  and on Election Day I’d always bump into friends and neighbors there.  Then in the late afternoon of that fateful day I headed out to vote,  and approaching the school I saw a line had formed that ran down the block and was slowly inching its way into the building.

“Great,”  I remember thinking,  “voters are coming out in droves for Hillary!”

Of course I was confident she’d shatter the glass ceiling that night,  and when I spotted a friend on the line we rushed laughing into each other’s arms.  In fact the whole crowd on that eastside street was joyous – laughing and talking and literally dancing on the sidewalk.

But later that night,  as millions of us watched the returns on TV,  the change of mood in the city was almost palpable.

The next morning,  after a long and sleepless night,  I had an appointment across town and so I took the bus.

I happened to sit up front where several seats face each other across the aisle,  and I caught the eye of the woman – a stranger – sitting opposite me.

Without a word I spread out my hands palms open in a helpless gesture.   Without a word,  she did the same.

That day there was no joy in Mudville.

– Dana Susan Lehrman

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