Vote

-

 

I’m Judge of Elections in my ward/district so of course the election is very much on my mind. Actually, I may be obsessed. If you follow me on Twitter you know that I am consumed with outrage over this administration; trolling Trump has become a favorite pastime. I truly believe exercising our right to vote is critical; it is a calling, a sacred obligation, an opportunity not to be dismissed.

In a recent conversation, I suggested employers should close on Election Day—especially this year when unprecedented voter engagement is expected to result in long waits to vote, causing a disruption in work schedules and obligations. A phenomenon compounded by the social distancing required to prevent the spread of Covid 19—after all we don’t want voting to turn into a super spreader event like the #RoseGardenMassacre. (See, I can’t stop trolling Trump).

Anyway, my suggestion was met with resistance; the argument was made that employers shouldn’t be paternalistic, “parenting” employees by giving them a day off to vote. I can only assume they equated this with driving one’s thirteen-year-old to the 8th grade dance. I (angrily, I admit) countered that many employers gave staff off for Juneteenth in response to the George Floyd protests. Take away Juneteenth and substitute Election Day, I suggested. What is the point of a Juneteenth holiday—aside from appealing to Social Justice Warriors and giving employers points for “taking a stand” against racism?

In truth, because we’ve so diverse in the Black community, Juneteenth doesn’t apply to all of us. For example, my parents are from St Croix, USVI. Slavery was abolished there decades before it was stateside. (St Croix was under Danish rule at the time.) What did people do with the Juneteenth holiday? Probably hung out at home watching Netflix. I believe an Election Day holiday offers the opportunity to bring about change. By encouraging marginalized folks to take action through voting, employers can actually empower employees to act in their own best interest. There is power in voting—we know that because otherwise the Republican party wouldn’t fight so hard to suppress our votes. By voting consistently in every race, we can ensure minority rule does not become the way our country is run.

Every action needs to have a call to act. Juneteenth—what is the call to action? What value does it offer besides a day off from work? How does it make our lives better? With an Election Day holiday, the call to action is simple: VOTE. Already voted? Then be a poll-watcher. Or, drive the elderly to a polling place. Or, knock on doors to get out the vote. The point is you have a day off, a day designed to empower you to drive change, so use it to make America a better place for all of us.

What better way to honor our enslaved ancestors than to exercise the right that was fought so hard for? It’s our chance to honor the horrors they endured and make sure nothing like that ever happens again. We can’t stomp out racism or homophobia, but we can ensure that those in power aren’t afflicted with either.

And speaking of racism I have the same issue with Black Lives Matter—not the movement itself but the name. What is the clear call to action? I think better names would have been Save Black Lives or Value Black Lives because those have a clear call to action and they are not open to outraged assertions that all lives matter—yes, yes they do, you idiot, but we are talking specifically about black lives and the violence and injustices done to them.

As a writer, I know words matter. As a person, I know action and holding ourselves accountable for improving our situation—whatever it is—matters. 

Photo by Heather Mount on Unsplash


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Catching Up With...Stacey Thomas, the Philadelphia Wedding Chapel

-
Image
If you read this blog regularly, you know that I recently married my longtime partner (see Musings Stanley (left) and me with Stacey Thomas of a New Husband, June 29, 2014 . Ever since I was a kid, I dreamed of marrying some bright prince. And as a writer of gay romance, I’ve written gay weddings into two of my books, brilliant, extravagant affairs both. The wedding in What Binds Us ,  included a groom on horseback and “Ten thousand pale pink roses—an entire crop from Holland flown in that morning,” while at the comparatively simpler wedding in Unbroken “it seemed everyone in the world was there” including a flock of startled peacocks. Yet, when it came to my own wedding, panic set in. I didn’t know where to start. I knew I didn’t want to get married in a church and I knew there wouldn’t be hundreds, or even dozens of guests in attendance. In desperation—at that point we only had two weeks to get married on our 17 th anniversary—I goggled “weddings in Philadelphia.” The Phila
Read more

On Writing Part Two: (You’ve Got to be) Ruthless

-
Image
I remember when I first started writing seriously, I would come across all these articles where writers talked about “honing their craft.” That would immediately trigger an eyeroll and a metaphorical flipping of the page (after all most of these articles appeared online). Now seven years later as I begin work on my fifth novel, I’m rethinking that. I still dislike the term, sounding as it does as if one was practicing sorcery. Though, now I’ve come to realize that when we write, we create something out of nothing, which is kind of a neat conjurer’s trick; you (hopefully) pull gold from straw like a literary alchemist. And sometimes, too, being a writer can feel like you’re playing God playing house. You breathe life into your characters after all and give them companions and adventures. The story itself is the Universe you created for them. The characters are the bones of the story; the plot and the conflicts are the capillaries and veins and arteries. And the words are the skin. T
Read more

A Fatherless Father's Day

-
Image
Max as reluctant to let Dad go as we were. I remember the accident as if it was yesterday. I had been living in Washington, D.C. for three years. That particular morning, a Saturday, I was running late for work. It was a gray, wet morning at the edge of Winter. Heavy rain, like molten white gold, fell from an aluminum sky as I blazed along at 80 mph. A gray car merged onto the roadway from the right, then proceeded to move into my lane without signaling. The car was moving so slowly it looked like it was moving backwards. I pressed the brakes hard, pumping steadily with increasing pressure, my right hand tight on the gearshift ready to down shift. Realizing collision was inevitable, I glanced at the speedometer: 60. The impact sent my little car spinning towards the concrete divider separating west-bound traffic from east. The world seemed upside down. I remember thinking, I’m going to die and I never got to be friends with my father . I glanced up at the sky, oddly unafraid,
Read more