I was six years old, in first grade in 1972, standing in line to vote at the Driscoll School election in Brookline, Massachusetts (home of Michael Dukakis). An eighth grade girl, L., who lived across the street from me walked by as she exited the polls. Excitedly I waved and said "L, L., who did you vote for?" She put her finger to her lips, and said "shhhh, you're not supposed to ask".
I have many early political memories: both my parents were local level elected officials, and deeply rooted in Massachusetts politics. The doorbell would ring every Friday night during our Sabbath dinner with someone dropping off papers for my father from a weekly political meeting he had chosen to forgo in order to stay home for dinner. He was deeply involved with promoting bussing for minority kids in its early tumultuous years in MA, and when I found a wallet and received a reward for returning it a few years later, most of the $10 I got went straight to Ted Kennedy for his presidential campaign. I remember the hand-signed thank you note I received from him. My dad grew up with Michael Dukakis, whose wife taught my sister ballet and whose daughter I scooped ice cream with for a summer job in high school.
But it's that first grade election that I remember most vividly. The excitement of stepping into a voting booth. The belief that what I was doing mattered. The shame I felt when L. reminded me that votes are private - a belief that took me years to overcome. Even in 2008 when I phone banked and canvassed for Obama, I was deeply uncomfortable asking people how they would vote. I still pictured L., shaking her head and telling me no, it was private.
But I also remember election day. McGovern lost? How was that possible? I'm pretty sure I knew that my six-year-old vote didn't count, but I was still confused. My family supported him. Everyone I knew supported him (I didn't meet a Republican until my A.P. History teacher my junior year of high school). I believed he was a good man, with good policies, who cared about others. At six, I started to realize that not everyone sees the world as my little liberal bubble did. It didn't really penetrate for years, but that election day was the beginning.
And I remember, vividly, two years later loving the deliciousness, the national short-hand of the bumper sticker "don't blame me, I'm from Massachusetts".
Ever since that six year old's election, I've viewed voting as sacred. I feel a hush, a sense of power and spirituality whenever I step into a voting booth. My oldest son came with me to vote when he was 3 weeks old; I've let him push every button since then....except for 2008. I had to push VOTE for Obama myself. My boys are now 6 and 9 and we discuss politics fairly often. The nine year old came home last week and said "M.'s parents are voting for Romney because President Obama hasn't created as many jobs". We got to have a little lesson in graphs and charts as I showed him M's parents were wrong. (I resisted sending a chart into school with him for him to give to M. I then ran into M's mother and mentioned that the kids were talking politics. I also resisted saying anything negative though, and just said it was great that they could discuss differences intelligently). My six year old referred to Republicans as "the bad guys" the other day though, and I had to explain that it's an easy short-hand, but not accurate or a useful description. They'll be voting with me this November, even if they're late for school. Then candidate-Obama visited their school in 2008 but they were too young to be there then; I'm hoping for a surprise visit again sometime in the next couple of weeks. (We're now in Philadelphia).
As for L., I'm still not sure who she voted for. Steeped in Brookline, it's likely she voted as I did. But her father was a fairly successful self-made businessman. Her brother, who ended up at Harvard Business School the year behind me, founded a wildly successful internet start-up. I don't know how much she would even remember me although we were neighbors our entire lives. But she had a profound influence, reminding me that voting is sacred.