In my younger years, I tended to avoid political discussions. My reluctance stemmed from a lack of understanding about the political landscape and feeling unprepared to engage in heated debates. I hadn’t truly explored my own political beliefs either. While I could identify some key figures in my political party, I didn’t feel confident enough to defend my views.
As a result, I passively observed election cycles, casting my vote every four years but barely grasping the functions of Congress or the significance of local governance. That all shifted for me after the tragic events at Virginia Tech in April 2007, when 32 students lost their lives due to the actions of a disturbed individual.
The nation watched in shock as discussions erupted around gun control, campus safety, and the adequacy of mental health services. I was devastated by the faces of the victims and concerned for my young son, who was about to start kindergarten. Questions swirled in my mind: Who would protect him from the threat of violence? What resources were available for the mentally ill in my community? Where were my local tax dollars being allocated? I realized I needed to educate myself on these critical issues.
Soon after, a local politician organized a pancake breakfast for constituents, and I seized the opportunity to attend. Despite feeling anxious about questioning an elected official, I reminded myself of my responsibility as a parent. I was no longer the timid woman who shied away from political issues; I was a mother dedicated to safeguarding her children. I had the right to voice my concerns.
As I settled at a table, syrup glistening on my pancakes, I listened to others express their thoughts. When my turn came, I stood up, fidgeting with my wedding band, and found the courage to ask how the politician planned to ensure my son’s safety in light of the Virginia Tech tragedy. To my relief, he responded earnestly, addressing the complexities of funding and legislative hurdles. While he didn’t provide all the answers, I felt acknowledged, which was empowering. At the end of the breakfast, I was introduced to the local fire chief, who reassured me about the safety protocols in place for schools.
Leaving that event, I felt invigorated—not from the food, but from a newfound sense of agency. I cast my first vote in that local election, motivated by a desire to be heard. I vote not to engage in conflict or to disparage opposing views, but rather to reclaim control in a tumultuous political environment. When I encounter political rhetoric that disturbs me, I remind myself that my voice matters. I vote because my local representatives are part of my community, and we are all in this together, just as the Constitution asserts.
I vote because I’ve evolved from the uncertain woman I once was. I vote, recognizing that not long ago, women fought for the very right to have their voices heard at the polls. I vote with conviction, no longer hesitating to discuss politics openly. I feel empowered each time I step into the voting booth, knowing I am making a difference.
Whatever it takes, whether finding childcare or bringing my kids along, I urge everyone to make it a priority to VOTE in November.
For more insights into the challenges of financial planning while navigating parenthood, check out this link. And if you’re looking for resources on insemination techniques, this article provides an excellent overview of intrauterine insemination.
Summary:
Amanda Johnson reflects on her journey from political apathy to active participation in the electoral process following the Virginia Tech tragedy. She emphasizes the importance of voting as a means of empowerment and community involvement, encouraging others to engage in the political discourse and make their voices heard.