So, yesterday was the primary elections. I am not a huge political person. I don’t go to rallies or promote candidates very much, however I do really enjoy voting. Besides the fact that all these women before me fought and died to gain me this right, it actually makes me happy when it’s voting day. Which I admit does seem weird coming from someone who isn’t all gung-ho about politics.
I get to go to a fire station and pick which table that I want. I get to do this secret handshake and pass off sort of deal and then I get to hide and secretly make a wish. It’s like being in a super secret club, without all the other rigmarole of costumes and fees and long meetings. It probably sounds ridiculous, but I’m just a nerd that way.
So, yesterday I was happy. I was going to vote! But then I also sort of dreaded it because I was driving my parents. My parents and I do not see the world the same way. My dad is forever trying to tell me how to vote, or that I’m throwing my vote away, or simply spouting off hateful remarks that he’s heard on Talk Radio. It bums a girl out.
So, there was a bit of rambling political talk from him, and then because he wouldn’t promise not to tell me how I was throwing my vote away, he did not gain the knowledge of who I was going to vote for. But that probably made for a better day.
When we arrived at the fire station, I entered first and went straight to the Democratic table to register. My parents just came in and filed in behind me. I had to stifle my laugh and told them they wanted the other line. They seemed confused. Mom peered around me to see what the sign at my table said and then looked towards the other table and shuffled over there. My dad was not paying attention and then was watching my mom walk away and then looking back at me and then towards my mom again before finally moving off to the Republicans table. I really should have just not said anything. It would have been hilarious. Except it would have ended up causing a commotion when they weren’t able to find their candidate on the ballot. And I suppose that’s not really good for voting.
I actually have no idea who my parents were voting for in the Republican primaries, but I wouldn’t divulge that even if I knew, because that is not my right. Though my dad did ask who he should vote for. o_0 My family is weird. My parents already know that my sister and don’t set to a standard political party for voting, but that nine times out of ten we will not be voting Republic. It’s either Democrat or some other non-official party. However, they like to remain in denial that their daughters aren’t staunch Republicans like themselves. Which is awkward every time they conveniently forget that we’re not Republicans and end up assuming that we’ll vote the same way as them.
But, my dad asked between Trump or Cruz. I do have to add that my sister is not political at all. I’m the only one in the house who really researches candidates and politics. My dad just relies on the good people of Fox News and Conservative Talk Radio as to what he should think. I actually investigate conservative, as well as liberal news medias. I cull as much information from varying places as to get a better picture, for myself. However my sister will ask me, “So who are we voting for?” Pfft! That’s not how it’s supposed to work y’all! My family is actually quite funny.
I suppose any other person would have dissuaded my dad from voting Republican altogether, but that is trying to beat a dead horse. I personally would rather have anyone win over Trump and I said as much. I even asked him about that doctor (who didn’t seem to be very knowledgable on health things), because dad had really wanted to vote for him. “Carson? He dropped out.” my dad said with a sad sigh. Dad said he really liked Cruz and that he was not a Yankee. “Well there you have it dad! Don’t vote for Trump because he’s nothing but a Yankee!”
That was as far as any real discussions went. So who knows. I do know, however, that I am disappointed, yet again, to be a Mississippian. Look at these numbers, y’all! Almost 2,000 people voted for Donald Trump. I do not understand that. I have never understood people who are afraid of people who aren’t them, nor follow people who spread hate talk about other people. I don’t care what colour, nationality, religion, sexual orientation, or body shape, etc that one is, why hate them or think that the are beneath you in some way? I don’t understand these people. These are not good people.
I don’t hate Hilary Clinton, but her views towards black people and the Civil Rights movement is appalling. Who voted for her? Just about everyone who went out to vote, it seems. Why y’all?
Obviously from that very first photo you can assume correctly that I am a Bernie Sanders supporter. And as confusing as it is to me, he seems to be the ridiculed under dog from most places that I read. Well, from the Republican standpoint that is. But, hello fellow Democratic voters! You would think you were voting for equality, but you didn’t choose the man who actually marched with THE Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. No, you picked the woman who rolls her eyes at such things. Why would you do that? Did you not know? Did you not read or educate yourself on such matters? It wasn’t hard to see or to track down and research. *sigh* I don’t know.
After voting, there were errands to be run and then I took my parents home. While out running more errands alone, I ended up being stopped behind this person from Jackson. It’s not a great picture. Wait, it’s a terrible picture actually. But this is what I don’t understand. The red sticker on the left is actually the Dixie Flag. Ya know, what’s also referred to as the Confederate Flag or the Rebel Flag? Then in the center is a religious sticker, something about being like Jesus. Then the one you can actually make out is a sticker promoting Trump for president.
These things don’t go together at all people! OK, perhaps the flag and Trump do, but do you honestly not know what it’s like to be like Jesus? I am not a religious person anymore, though I grew up in the Catholic church. But, even as a kid, being in a Christian religion did not limit me, personally, from exploring and educating myself on other religions or history that might pertain to religions.
I know all of the Christian sects histories, origins and beliefs. I also know the non religions histories. Ya know, things like the Catholic church out trumps all the Protestant religions in age. Or that when The Church is referred to, it was always the Catholic one, the Holy Roman Empire. And things like The Church used Pagan elements and built on Pagan sites to get the Pagans to join the Catholic religion. So when Christians today say they want to take back a holiday, I wonder why they don’t understand that it’s not their holiday to take back in the first place.
Anyways, getting back on point. I know what version of the bible that Christians have. The Protestants have the King James version and Catholics either have the Catholic or the Jerusalem version. The Orthodoxes have the Synodal or the EOB. The Mormons have the King James as well as the companion Book of Mormon.
All of the bibles, however varied they may be in wording, ect, always portray Jesus in the exact same manner. He was humble, selfless, caring, and giving. He befriended and was kind to the sinners; the prostitutes, the tax collectors; the enemies of the Jews or their ways of religion.
One can not logically read about who Jesus was or how he acted and translate that in todays terms as him ridiculing other races or religions or spreading hate or fear mongering amongst the people. Or not wanting to help other people and having the mentality of “Mine, mine, mine!”
My question is, “What book are you actually reading? Because it’s not a bible of any kind.”
Someone who really does want to be more like Jesus or says that they act like Jesus can’t honestly vote for someone so selfish, self-absorbed, and who appears to hate EVERYONE. Well, I suppose they can as evidenced by the above photo and Trumps 24 Delegate victory in this state.
The day, however did get better. After driving a little further I saw this scene. She was just so stoic sitting there with Bernie signs flanking her that my initial thought was, “What an awesome photo that would be!” It wasn’t something I could capture however, because I was not stopped at that light.
But, as I continued to drive, I couldn’t stop thinking about that imagine and the impact it had on me. I am not a person who goes out-of-the-way for a photo. I like that person, in theory, but I’m rarely ever that person. However, the image of her sitting there kept tugging at my brain, so much so that I actually turned around and went back.
I approached her and she was all smiles saying that she had buttons and banners that I was welcome to them. Which I admit threw me off guard because that’s the type of person that I am. I have a thought in my mind and that’s what I’m focusing on; in this case to ask if she minded I take her picture, and then I get hit with what I wasn’t expecting and then I’m confused for a second.
But confusion subsided and I thanked her and asked if I could take her picture, which is the picture above. We chatted for a bit, then I asked if I could have her name for my blog post, if she didn’t mind. She seemed wary and asked what kind of blog. If I read her right, it makes sense. What if I was going to slam her in my blog post? I’d want to know too. I told her it was just my thoughts and views on random things, but that I’d be writing about the election today and that I’m a fellow Bernie supporter.
She told me she had something better and walked to her car. I admit I had a puzzled expression on my face, but went with it. Then realized her banners were trying to blow away and then realized that in my attempt to grab and hold them that all anyone could see what my backside, so I figured I’d turn around while I waited for her and help people Feel The Bern, as it were. Was even asked by a student waiting at the cross walk next to me what times the polls closed. It was rather fun being a promoting supporter for a few seconds.
What she came back with was a business card with her name on it. I can dig it. Then I notice that her handmade business card reads Jazz Singer/Songwriter. I couldn’t help but excitedly blurt out, “You’re a Jazz singer? That’s SOOO awesome!!” to which she found that amusing.
Initially it is really cool that she’s a Jazz singer. I like music and I don’t know any Jazz singers. But take a look at that photo up there again. Her initial image is so stoic and that’s all you see. It was sociologically exciting to me to get to know who this woman really was, in a manner of speaking. I’m sort of a social scientist and find things exciting and interesting that most people don’t notice or end up taking for granted. Little things that seem insignificant. So, to me this was a woman sitting silently like a statue. Then I got to see her small smile and her soft laugh and her cheeriness. And to me, I was realizing that a person was unfolding before me in small instances.
Most people I meet, once I talk to them, are the same as when I just saw them on the street. It’s not very interesting. I’m always excited to meet the people who are this person at this moment and then show who they are once you talk to them. This is why I took such great notice of the moments in which she kept expanding, as I do with all the people whom I meet that shift in this way. So her personality coming through physically and then learning that this seemingly unassuming woman sang Jazz music, well, I don’t meet these people a lot.
I know it might sound weird, but that was a highlight of my day. The whole experience. Me choosing to do what I wanted, instead of feeling like I was bothering someone (though I did feel that a little), that she was a surprising character of a person compared to most of the people I get to meet or encounter. And above all, she was a nice person and didn’t tell me to fuck off, like people do in my head, in imagined scenarious. haha
Anyways, since I have the business card and she writes and sings Jazz, go on over and give it a listen. She also writes blog posts. www.regenahoye.com
And in a round-a-bout way, you have just finished reading what it was like to vote in Mississippi on a dreary March Tuesday through this girls eyes.