My Fellow Americans

My Fellow Americans, 

As you wake today, you will be allowed to experience one of the greatest achievements in man’s history. You will be asked to take part in what throughout human existence had only been allowed for those of power and privilege, and yet today all men, and women, have the ability to perform. The right to vote is one that did not come to this place without heartache, strife, and even death. Yet we take the ability to stand and be heard, our voice and our beliefs, as something that is insignificant or even inconvenient. 

But the problem we face more than anything isn’t that people don’t take the time or the pleasure to exercise this right, no, the downfall of the process is the hatred we exhume upon one another along the way. Like children fighting over the schoolyard toys, we fight over the people on the ballot, none of which many of us have ever met in person, and certainly none of which will be at our side during times of pain. Yet the neighbor who has helped us clear the limbs after the storm or baked us goods upon arrival to the new home, we fight and argue with. Have we not learned over the years that the person that extends the hand of help is the person for we should make peace, not war? Shouldn’t the people thousands of miles away, living in the ivory towers of politics be the ones we should question?

Americans are mad, and we want to not be so. We look at every possible reason and person that could be the source of why our hearts ache and our fists clinch. We are told, it is the person that is different from us, the woman and child that are not from here that brings us this pain, or the man that the works the oilfield that I should blame for lack of progress. Americans are mad, and we can’t figure out that the simple reason we are not happy with our lives is that we have lost faith that our neighbors who are here for us, and not against us. We are mad because we are told to be, and yet, we don’t see the face of the voice that speaks this evilish tone.

Don’t let the politics of today break down the friendships that took years to build, only to be destroyed by the drop of a yard sign. We are not who we vote for, yet, we tend to use the words of politicians as the noose for which we hang and kill friendships. 

America is mad, and we have always been mad, but we now have platforms to voice our distain. We find those that will listen, and then listen as they tell us who we should and shouldn’t be afraid of, all the while alienating the very ones close to us. We hurt, and we bleed, and yet the bandaids we seek are right next door, ready to be put on by loving hands.

We will disagree, and we have different opinions, but progress isn’t made by division, it is made by resolve. If we don’t find peace in our own lives, we will never find peace in others, and we most certainly won’t find it with politics. 

Today we vote, but tomorrow we need to heal, and we can only do that if we reach out our hands in peace and not care about the color, or creed, or sexuality of the person that grabs it. We can only heal, if instead of turning our backs away, we turn our ears toward, and for once, just sit and listen, rather than stand and resist. We are mad because no one will listen to us, but maybe we should be the ones to listen first. Do unto others as we want them to do unto us.

The future of our nation depends on you healing, but equally important, the health of yourself does too. Take the time to be part of the process of progress, and go vote. Then take the time and be part of the process of healing, and love.