On Not Being Able To Vote

Today is a great day.

Americans everywhere have gone to the polls and made a choice. Americans have chosen their future leader (let's just forget about the Electoral College for a moment).

Everywhere, the streets are lined with "Vote!" flyers. Everywhere, headlines are proclaiming "Vote!". Everywhere, shops are offering goodies and freebies to everyone sporting an "I Voted" sticker. Professors are excusing students from class so that they might go vote. Even Facebook is reminding Americans to vote. An aura of well-being, good deeds, and patriotic duty surrounds today.

But what about those of us who cannot vote?

I've been looking to my eighteenth birthday for so long as the age at which I, too, would follow my parents into the booth and cast my ballot. I am part of the phenomenon, the cohort of newly voting-age citizens who are expected to be one of the major factors of this election.

Except for one thing: I can't vote.

For the first time in my life, I have followed an election from its very beginning, from the moment the first candidates announced their intention to run. I have followed the longest-ever campaign with substantial interest. I have weighted issues, debated them, and chosen my candidate. I can even brag that I know more about the election than many Americans.

But in the end, my voice will not matter. Because I will not vote.

I have been living in the United States for six and a half years. Only last year, after three years of paperwork and nonstop hassle, was I awarded the title of "permanent resident." I have to wait four more years to begin applying for naturalization, at which point it will probably take an additional five years to actually receive citizenship. By this point, two more presidential elections and many more, less publicized elections will have gone by.

I doesn't matter that I have followed the American curriculum through high school. It doesn't matter that I have achieved results on American standardized tests which count me among the elite of the American student population. It doesn't matter that I go to a public, American university, pay taxes, or participate in community activities. It doesn't matter that every choice made by the government affects me.

Because, no matter what I think, I can't do anything about it. I can't vote.

Oh, sure, I could start an interest group, write petitions, contact government officials. But how likely is that to have an effect? That would take as much time as a full-time job. I don't want to have to sacrifice my personal goals to make my voice heard on an issue that others can resolve at the booth.

The choice that will be made tonight is not mine. It's yours.

But please, I beg you, make the right choice. For those who don't have a voice. For me.