jaded

This photo is the collection of political brochures on my doorstep, a growing mass of opinions and doctrines others have attempted to persuade me to adhere to. I left them on my doorstep as a silent protest of sorts, yet they keep appearing, even this morning.

On this election day, I have never been more politically jaded in my brief voting career. In the days of old, I was spoon fed ideologies: there was a right and a wrong, good and bad, wise and unwise, even lists of candidates to vote for. The process was seamless. Back then I believed.

I will no longer be spoon fed; I've been let down too often.

Today, I strolled through a local Catholic elementary school, observing the jackets and backpacks reaching waist level, the artwork on the walls, and for a moment remembered the care-free days of youth. I walked into the ballot room, where a volunteer began to explain how to vote a straight-party ticket, to which I politely interrupted and said, "No, don't worry about that."

This election, I voted, not because I have the answers or am convinced either is right, I voted because freedom is a gift. This election, I didn't fill in all the blanks, in spaces I knew nothing, nothing remained. I left my mark, slapped a sticker that reads "I Voted" on my chest, and somehow remained hopeful that those making these brochures still believe.