On a recent camping trip to Canada, I was watching the tops of black ash trees. It was that time of evening when only the treetops were sunlit, and the rest of the forest was in quiet shadows. The compound leaves of the black ash tree have always seemed beautifully exotic to me. This evening they were spectacular as they gently moved in the illuminated breeze. I didn’t look at an individual leaf but the whole assemblage that created a beautiful living pattern for the ash. The golden green leaves were in elegant contrast to the blue evening sky revealed through the leaves.
In this reverence, I had been thinking of some of the young adults who had spoken to my wife and me about not voting in the upcoming elections. For some youth, it would be THEIR first opportunity as adults to participate in one of the most important coming-of-age acts in their democracy. Their reasoning varied from not caring enough to learn about the candidates to disbelief that their vote would have any impact. One stated there was no one to vote for because no single candidate or party had all her concerns in their platform. We have given a lot of thought to those expressed opinions. So as I mindlessly watched the tree leaves, I was inspired by what the leaves taught me.
I am quite certain each leaf didn’t consider itself separate from the other leaves. Each is connected to all the others by shared physical and spatial elements. All the leaves together felt the same sun, rain, and wind. They all served the greater good for something bigger than themselves. Their ability to grow a tree was founded in their functioning as leaves in community. Together, all the leaves take in sunlight and carbon dioxide to create sugars to feed their host tree while releasing oxygen into the air breathed by other living creatures.
I don’t know if the leaves argued amongst themselves. Somehow I don’t think so. Perhaps they are too busy growing something good in the forest. Even when that season’s leaves fall to the forest floor, as every generation will do, they leave a legacy of nourishment in the forest duff so future generations can flourish. Some leaves drop prematurely from a dying branch, but the rest of the leaves carry on for the benefit of a common good. That common good is in the health of each tree and the entire forest. All leaves contribute. The forest would cease to exist if the leaves didn’t do their part.
The ash leaves demonstrate a pattern of full participation that might be useful to young citizens considering their choice to vote in future elections. If no one votes, our democracy ends. If one third of voters don’t vote, as in the last election, we have a hobbled, disengaged citizenry with something else waiting to fill those gaps. Imagine a forest with a third of its trees gone. The vacant space would quickly fill with something other than trees, causing a damaged forest. The non-voter gaps in our elections are being filled by something other than the people’s democracy.
Voting is an act for the greater good. Unlike the leaves, we argue what the greater good is, but if we don’t vote, we lose our group influence to move towards a better future. When I vote, as I have in every election since 1968, it is not for me but for my relationship to something larger than myself: my family, community, state, and country. No party or candidate has ever met all my expectations, but still I voted for the closest one that did. I have never done a deep dive into any candidate but have just enough information to make a choice. No choice is ever perfect. Yes, I realize that my one vote doesn’t define an election, but sometimes only ten or a hundred are deciding that outcome. More than that, I love to walk up to the voting booth with the millions of Americans I know are doing the same thing. It is a rare opportunity to be an active part of something as big and world-influencing as American democracy.
At seventy-seven, I am closing in on the end of my lifetime as a voter. Like the fallen tree leaves, I hope to leave a voted legacy of hope and opportunity for others’ future. But young people who are starting their income-earning years with or without a family, career, mortgage, and dreams begin to make choices that will impact their entire adult lifetime. Many things we have grown up with and expect to remain constant were created by voters and elected officials. Many of these expectations are being challenged by policies that are filling the gaps in American citizen participation created by apathy, disinformation, intentional distraction, and inhumanity. A few come to my mind, but if you really pay attention, many more will appear threatened by lack of citizen voices.
As a young person eligible to vote, you might not have that right for long. Voting rights are under attack on multiple fronts. Don’t assume you can enter higher education or a career of your choice. During the Vietnam era, those options were highly influenced by national policy, and men were drafted to fight in a war not of their choosing. As a woman, don’t assume you will have the right to vote if the Reformed Christian movement gains enough power to limit voting rights exclusively to male heads of households. Remember the suffrage movement that took years to get men to “allow” women the vote? What about women entering careers of their choice? Older nuns told me they joined their order as the only alternative to marriage or menial labor. Young women of today have many more options created by a voting public that changed what females are “allowed” to do. Title Nine changed women’s sports since 1972. It was put in place by citizens demanding change from their elected officials. Voting matters by getting issues on party platforms and putting officials in office who honor their oath to uphold the US Constitution. The list of current issues impacting Americans is long—Social Security, affordable child care, healthcare, housing, and food. Even the right to worship the god of your choice in the manner you choose is being assaulted at the U.S. Capitol, the Pentagon, and in Texas public education.
Aaron Sorkin said, “Decisions are made by those who show up.” The nature of young people’s future is being decided now. There are many ways to “show up,” but voting is perhaps the simplest and least time-consuming. It was designed to be easily available to all American citizens anywhere in the world. If you don’t vote for yourself, please vote for the greater good. Like those leaves in the evening sky making a beautiful and effective pattern, your collective votes will keep our democracy healthy. Neil deGrasse Tyson, astrophysicist, author, and science communicator, in his “Hidden World of Trees,” tells us about the multiple ways trees support and nurture each other and all the various species in the forest. Trees thrive in a dynamic, mixed culture of interconnectedness for the well-being of all. He wonders if trees “know” their lives are dependent on the health of the whole forest. Tyson then speculates if trees can “think” in longer terms than we do.
As an American, it is most important to know your well-being is contingent on the well-being of the whole society. In making your choices, think about their long-term impact beyond the next paycheck, birthday, or decade. Leave a legacy of hope and opportunity for all as you move through an adult lifetime of voting opportunities.
