Inside Gigi's World

The answer is simple. You vote!

I did not grow up in a very political home. And that’s okay. Not everyone does.

It wasn’t until my senior year of high school when an “experimental” class was offered to seniors, a Civics class with Mr. Thompson, that I showed any interest at all.

If I am being honest, the two main reasons I decided to take the class,

One: Mr Thompson. He was one of the best teachers and most influential teachers I have ever had. EVER.

Two: Mr. Thompson’s records. He had the best taste in music. Music that I loved and knew well and almost every morning on academic weeks, when I actually got my ass to school on time, I would go to the cafeteria for either tater tots and ketchup or pretzels with cream cheese, cold weather was hot chocolate, warm weather was a fruitopia and I would sit in that class before my classes started and listened to the music and ate my breakfast in peace and quiet. Some morning we talked. Others we didn’t. But I always felt welcomed in that class.

I can honestly say my senior year that I probably learned more in that class than any other. In that class I learned that I also cared a great deal more about politics and policies then I initially thought.

We read the paper. We wrote. There was a lesson about Pink Floyd and how political their music actually was…..

But the biggest lesson I learned my senior year in Mr. Thompson’s civic class? If you don’t vote then you don’t get to complain. Plain and simple.

And we all know how much I love having opinions.

My Memé was born in 1913, seven years before it was legal for women to vote. I’m not even sure her mother ever voted. In her time women were not meant to have voices. They were meant to stay silent and raise familes.

Then as she got older, she played her piano for parties for political figures.

How could I not vote?

This year, I decided that it was important for me to show R. how to vote. In 2024 my son will be able to vote in his first presidential election. I need a moment to process that. In 2024, four years time, my son will be able to vote.

He needs to see and understand what it means to vote.

I remember the first election I voted in.

Bush VS. Kerry

I felt like it was Christmas morning. I woke up bright and early and went to my polling place as soon as it opened. I was the only there wasn’t almost 100 years old.

So this morning, bright and early, I dragged his rear end out of bed. He was mad, he pulled blankets and pillows over his head, said it was too early. But after I pulled his ass out, literally, he put on his sandals and shirt, informed me he wouldn’t be brushing his teeth and only half slammed the door before he remembered whose house he was in, we were off to our official polling place.

We only got minimal glares when us two fools walked in. What a sight, I am sure. All 6 foot tall lanky Richie with his squeaky voice and 2 foot tall me covered in tattoos with my Grateful Dead shirt on but I digress, we got our ballot, he asked a few questions, watched me fill it in and watched me cast it and then we were off to get the donuts I bribed him out of bed with, no worse for the wear.

I, personally, do not think there is usually a right and a wrong way to vote. It is a personal decision. What works for me may not work for another person.

What I do believe however is people talk about change all the time. Especially nowadays. We can not hold our politicians responsible nor teach our children how to be heard unless they are willing to go out and make a difference and that starts by casting your vote, even if you don’t always feel like it makes a difference. At least you can say to yourself it did.

Happy Primary Day!