This election has been a rollercoaster for many of us. I don’t know about the rest of you, but never in my voting life have I gotten this close to Election Day and still remained undecided.
I have been told that I must vote for Hillary or The Donald will destroy the world like some orange colored Godzilla. I have been told that I’m not allowed to abstain from voting because my ancestors died and bled for my right to do so. I have been told that I must vote for Hillary or I will lose my feminist card. I have been told I’m not allowed to cast a protest vote for Jill because it will be “throwing my vote away”. I have been told that voting Green is the only way to go if I ever want to see justice. I have been told that I live in hell and I might as well vote for Trump, because what do I have to lose? But while watching this nightmare election evolve into the trainwreck we can’t turn away from, one thing has become abundantly clear to this basement dwelling, Hell resident; my vote doesn’t matter.
All the remaining candidates only care about winning and winning by any means necessary. Sound bites, headlines, photo ops, and backroom deals are all more important than my vote. No matter who I vote for, my concerns will not be addressed. Either the candidate’s opinion differs from mine, the candidate is ineffectual or the candidate is a politician with insider debts to be repaid, or whatever the hell this is:
We will still be at war. Unarmed black people will still die in the streets at the hands of law enforcement. Climate change will continue to march us towards the point of no return. I will still hold my breath when the news of a school shooting comes over the airwaves, until I hear, hopefully, that it’s not one of my daughters’ schools and then I will weep for children and families I’ve never met. I will still be drowning in student loan debt.
Because this election isn’t for us, it’s for them and my vote truly doesn’t matter.