It was a cold and dreary night on November 6 as I went out to vote at the local Eagles lodge. A part of me wanted to skip the whole thing and just feel the warmth of my home, but I believe that voting is a right that should be exercised no matter the weather.
When I walked in, there was a small smattering of people. Our area had a 66 percent turnout for the elections, which is pretty good for a state that no one seemed to care about. I admit that since I wasn't a battleground state I felt my voted meant less than someone else's. That was until I stepped into the voting booth.
It dawned on me as I stood there that no matter who I was, the vote I was about the cast had the same exact weight as everyone else's. If the president himself walked through those doors, his vote weighed no more than my own. It didn't matter is your black, white, gay, straight, man, woman, prince or pauper because in that small booth, we're all equal.
I may not have been in a battle ground state, but my vote still counted. I exercised my right to vote and the thousands of people that died so many years ago to give me that right didn't do so in vain. I made a statement in how my nation, state, county and city were to be run. While it may not have made much difference on a national level, my vote meant something immeasurable on a locally. My voice was heard.