The Bread and Roses Primary

I call my aunt in Puerto Rico. "What do you think about who to vote for?" I ask her. Although Puerto Ricans on the island cannot vote for president, she says "Ay, Obama, Obama. Es que el me da esperanza." "But he doesn't have experiencia" I say. I imagine my aunt formulating her answer and then she says, "There is no one in the world who has enough experience to be President of the United States before they get there. ¡Eso es un rebulú!"

Into the small voting place here in rural New York, this little Boricua walks in. There is never a line. Always way more folks tending to the signatures at the Republican and Democratic tables to make sure you are who you say you are, usually someone remembers your name or at least reading it in print (but maybe that's because for here, my name is unusual), then there are people to reset the two voting booths; one for each party. So, basically we're talking six election volunteers per the usual 1 - 2 voters at a time. You're pretty well covered. In rural New York, the voter is a rock star. I have to walk by the Republican table to get to the Democratic table. I smile, "Good afternoon." I have smiled at Republicans! They smile at me. I take the few steps to the other side. The other voter is also a democrat. Right on.

At the Democratic table, I sign my name but not before taking a hard look at my up-side-down signature signed years ago which is still used as the comparison signature. After signing a million student drop/add forms for classes, well, my signature has "changed." I really don't want to have to convince anyone I am me, so I sign as close to the up-side-down signature as possible. Good enough.

To vote, you step into a booth that has curtains straight out of the 50's. Is that lime green I'm seeing, mi gente? You step in and crank a lever from the left to the right. I am always intimidated by this cranking for some reason. I guess it's the finality of it: I have to vote now. Also, I'm right handed and have to use my left hand. Plus, it's the symbolism. From left to right. Um, no. I'm easily distracted by details that go nowhere much. The curtain behind you closes. You are facing lots of little metal and plastic levers. For me, that is a bit of a nightmare since, of course, I am compelled to read the names on every lever out of simple curiosity with the mechanism itself. Hillary, Richardson, Edwards, Kucinich, and Obama have their own levers and then there are levers for their delegates. There it is. Choose.

I choose hearing the voices of support from my aunt in Puerto Rico, my father in New Hampshire, my friend in Michigan, my counselor in Ithaca. I choose hearing "Sí, se puede." Wishing that I could find the way to vote with Dolores Huerta, my sister, and my partner who support Hillary. But, for me, this is the bread and roses primary. Esperanza y experiencia. Barack Obama.