It’s a simple gesture–my polling place is a few blocks from my home. The screens are touchscreen and simple to handle.
So I voted.
Also, this morning while waiting for the polls to open so I could vote, I sat with 2 young white women talking about fartleks and teaching; and with an older maternal black lady who had to be to work by 6:15. She walked with a limp: baby, I might be a while she said as we went up all those steps in the train station. The train station that sits between the site of a slave burial ground turned into a parking lot and a still standing open air market that once housed the town whipping post.
Yesterday, my students and I studied DuBois’ double consciousness.
Take your time I told her. Me. Always running on Late. The couple behind me chattered and seemed unperturbed. The more time I have to soak this in the better.