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First Time Voters
"Turning 18 is not about buying cigarettes legally or joining the military, it's about having the right to vote -- and being PART of the political process."
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By Belia Mayeno and Paul Goldsmith
In this 2000 presidential election season, Youth Radio reporters and essayists are exploring the subject of first time voting. Today we hear from two young people, politically active from an early age, but who have very different ideologies, starting with Paul Goldsmith in Lake Station, Indiana.
For me, turning 18 is not about buying cigarettes legally or joining the military, it's about having the right to vote -- and being PART of the political process, not just an opinionated spectator. I've campaigned for local politicians ever since I was a kid. And growing up in public schools -- where almost everyone was Democrat --- I argued with my classmates about welfare and disagreed with teachers about labor unions. They couldn't believe I was a Republican. But the truth is, I put a lot of thought and effort into forming my conservative views on things such as abortion, gays in the military and prayer in public schools.
Now that I can finally cast my vote for president, I have to admit, I'm not sure I find common ground with even the Republican candidates. I'm worried about my choices. I'm looking for a one hundred percent pro-life candidate, but I'm left having to figure out which candidate is actually as pro-life as he claims. George W. Bush and John McCain seem to change their positions with their audience. When I asked my democratic senator about HIS opinion on abortion, he said he was personally against it, but he doesn't vote that way. Everywhere I turn, people seem scared to vote their conscience. I know I'll go conservative, but at this point, I have no idea who will win my first vote.
BELIA
My political beliefs are enmeshed in childhood memories. I remember being rolled along in a stroller at demonstrations, and going to see Jesse Jackson speak in Pittsburgh when he ran for President in 1988 - he bought me an ice cream. When I was 12, there was a proposition on the California ballots about immigration that I didn’t agree with, so I went out with my aunts and campaigned against it. On voting day, I went to the local democratic headquarters and helped call people to make sure they voted. The people I called thought it was a joke because I was so young. Some of them hung up laughing. But in my family, you don’t really have a choice to be apathetic about politics. The fact that I registered Democrat was a given. In my family, the joke goes, “Being a minority in the Republican party is like being a deer in the National Rifle Association.”
I never understood how deeply ingrained this idea had become in me until I finally ventured out of Berkeley’s liberal cocoon and interned in Washington DC last summer. I had to confront my own prejudices when I realized that I was afraid to tell my mom I made friends with Republicans. Its funny, some people upset their parents by piercing an obscure body part or getting a motorcycle, I upset my parents by spending Saturday night with people who had conservative views on welfare and affirmative action.
And though I have inherited my family’s devotion to the democratic process, this election year I don’t feel the excitement I always anticipated for the day I can finally vote. I am having a hard time distinguishing the democratic candidates not only from each other, but also from their republican rivals. In my history class, we have been looking at old tapes of Robert Kennedy’s speeches, and I find myself wishing for a candidate with that fervor and dedication to liberalism, or at least a candidate who seems like he believes what he’s saying.
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