I am voluntarily getting up at 8am on a Saturday morning… so I can cast my vote before the crowd gets in. Typing it out hasn’t made it any more believable, especially when I know the polls are open till 5pm. But I will be getting up, and I will be going to the polls, and I will be casting my vote for the very first time.
Why? Because:
1. I try almost everything at least once, and I want to know what it’s like to vote in a general election.
2. I want to know I contributed, did my part, fulfilled my right and carried out my duty as a citizen. Even though some people say my one vote won’t make a difference; I want to know I tried.
3. Because I yak too much about Barack Obama, government screw-ups and politics in general to pass up on my one chance to walk the talk.
I have been greatly encouraged by the boys, whose efforts and involvement make my feeble attempt to give an hour (or less) of my time drawing X’s on a piece of paper look like a mini chocolate eclair next to the biggest chocolate fountain in the world. While I do not undermine the importance of my vote, it is they who have been attending the ceramahs, who are unrestrainedly giving of their passion, time and energy, who continue to hold on to the belief that we can indeed make a difference, that deserve the credit.
I am determined to do my part, yet the cynic in me wonders if light will penetrate the dark side. Or if there is even light to be found at all. I’m sure there must be. Surely. Are we so far gone down the stormwater drain that nothing will bring us back? Are we doomed to be like this forever and ever? How can these people hold on so unswervingly to hope election after election after election? And you would think all that listening to Obama (hope, change, yes we can…) would have rubbed off on me somewhat.
My mother-in-law commented that she never expected my generation to become as politically-aware and active as we have been seeing and hearing. Not my generation, she said, maybe in a couple more. But the time has come sooner than she thought it would. Listening to the boys after yet another ceramah or training session for polling agents is inspiring stuff as they talk about the turnout of volunteers, about the young people who are coming forward, about their determination to do what they can. Is it enough? Is the alternative to evil really good, or simply evil in another face and form? Will we succeed in picking the lesser of two evils?
I don’t remember the last general election – I was in Australia – and I don’t remember the last time I was in Malaysia when there was a general election. But this one feels different. Maybe because I am now more aware, maybe because all that Obama talk is fueling the excitement in my own backyard, or maybe, definitely(?), because I am getting old enough to care. That makes sign #8.
