An early childhood memory of mine is going to the voting booth with my mother. As the youngest of four children, I think Mother often voted in between running my siblings to their events, and I just happened to be in tow. I remember the smell of the school gym where the booths were set up, the hush of people concentrating, and the satisfying thunk of her ballot going into the box after she voted.

Even as a child, I sensed something awe-inspiring was happening. That festive sensation might have been the ice-cream cone that usually came after the voting, but the sense of specialness on voting day has stayed with me for a lifetime. I am grateful to my mother for instilling in me from a very young age the sacredness of voting.

See Full Page