The morning of Sunday, July 21, I discovered what a huge day it was for America. I woke up not to the sound of my alarm, but to four missed calls and a series of texts from my mother instructing me to “Turn on the news!” So, it was at least a huge day in my family. That morning, I turned on the TV to be greeted by the smiling face of Vice President Kamala Harris as she announced her candidacy for the president of the United States.
That being said, thrilled is not the word I would use to describe us that day. Excited? Not quite. Ready? Maybe, I’m still not sure. Ready for a change, maybe. Ready for a break from the desolate hopeless culture we saw from the election’s current leading figures. A culture they created based on childlike insults and abhorrent lies. Then, yes, ready is the right word. We were sick of hopelessness. The world didn’t know what Harris’s campaign would look like, nor did my family. Yet, we held out hope that the woman we’ve seen shadowed under Biden’s campaign could drag us out of this endless charade.
After turning 18 and expressing to my friends how excited I was to finally get a voice — at least systematically — in the national election, my excitement was quickly dimmed by their hesitant response. In fact, they wouldn’t be voting in the election at all, even though they were all registered. I was mortified, I couldn’t fathom why they wouldn’t vote. “There’s no point,” they would say. “It’s hopeless anyway.” Why vote if the electoral college renders the popular vote inconsequential? Why vote if there’s no hope anyway?
Their hopelessness and belief in the inconsequentiality of their vote is similar to what many Americans think. However, your vote may hold more sway than you believe. Regardless of the electoral college’s influence on the outcome of results, it is still true that, when you cast your vote, you directly influence the outcome of the election by determining the composition of your state’s electors. While the electoral college may be deeply flawed, its existence is not a sufficient excuse to abstain from voting. Nor, in my view, is hopelessness anymore.
Aug. 6, Kamala Harris named Governor Tim Walz from Minnesota (my home state) as her vice-presidential running mate. This was a day that was celebrated in my family. After all, we only lived 30 minutes away from the Governor. Some of my best friends went to the high school he taught at and my history teacher swears Walz once called him “an old friend.” Though we knew Harris had much to prove, we knew Walz’s policy and reform firsthand. We had experienced the good he brought to schools, cities and homes. I texted my (non-voting) friend, “Walz is the pick, you have to vote now!” We were starting to find some hope.
Harris’ campaign had proven up to this point that they were taking a dramatic step in a whole new direction culturally. Her campaign turned lighthearted and positive, focusing on “bringing back the joy” and “strength through joy,” a dramatic shift from Trump’s campaign. She even names her supporters “joyful warriors.” To aid her in her presidential bid, she turned to pop culture references to relate to her younger supporters. For example, singer Charli XCX referred to Harris in a tweet as “brat,” a reference to her latest album, framing the presidential candidate as unapologetically bold, which younger voters see as cool and relatable.
“With the vice president, she laughs, she jokes, she does fun things, she makes memes and is a meme herself. And that is what attracts young people to pay attention and be engaged, and I think that’s why she’s been so successful,” ABC news quotes Allison Wiseman, the president of the Kentucky Young Democrats.
So yes, we are sick of feeling hopeless. The Harris/Walz campaign has proven to be a completely welcome cultural shift that relates to young voters and is completely different from the culture we’d rather leave behind. Now, we feel a little less hopeless and a little more hopeful.
This is the first year I will be able to vote in the national election. My vote will be cast for the candidate I think will drag us out of this misery, the candidate that is hopeful and that I believe best represents where I want the future of this country to go. But, most important, regardless of who I am casting my vote for, is the fact that it is being cast. Voting is our purest form of democracy. It is our voice. Your vote may look different from mine, but it is yours to cast. Go out there and use it.
Contact Addison Wieseler at wieseler@oxy.edu