Like millions of other 18 year olds, this midterm election cycle was my first time voting.
I’m from Atlanta, Georgia, so my vote was cast via absentee ballot sent through the mail from here in Boston. Part of me was upset that I couldn’t vote for the first time at my local voting place — which happens to be my alma mater elementary school. However, I was ultimately excited to be voting in the first place, even if the circumstances might be less than ideal.
Once I started the process, I realized how different it would be. After registering to vote over the summer, I began requesting an absentee ballot.
Using Georgia’s Online Voter Registration database, I proceeded through several lengthy steps — entering my driver’s license, answering questions and filling out other miscellaneous information. Finally — when I thought I was at the end — the system notified me that I must print out a PDF with my inputted information, sign designated spots in ink, scan it and upload it back into the database.
Georgia is one of the few states with this online voting provision, known as a “wet signature requirement.” It is currently being challenged in court for allegedly violating the Civil Rights Act.
It was a hassle for me. It meant locating a printer and ensuring I uploaded it at the proper time. I’m an able-bodied, privileged college student. If I weren’t as fortunate, I could imagine myself giving up at that point.
However, I finally signed it, scanned it, sent it in and awaited a response. Shortly after, I received a text from an updating service. My application was approved, and my ballot was en route.
Once the ballot arrived in my mailroom, I excitedly opened it up and began filling it out, where I was again confronted with a series of directions and caveats.
There were all kinds of oddly looming threats. If I didn’t fill out a certain spot or sign a certain thing, my vote would not count. My excitement was slightly compounded by anxiety that I would mishandle the ballot. And again, I’m a fairly educated, able-bodied and able-minded student.
The actual selection of candidates was interesting in its own right. For some candidates, I felt passionate about giving them my vote. While for others, I had to do some googling to feel like I was making an informed choice. At the end, there were a slew of questions asking if I thought the state should make certain amendments to its constitution. I felt oddly unqualified to answer those questions, and again, did some research to understand what I was asked in the first place.
Of course, I’ll live in Boston for the majority of the four years in which the winners would be in office. As I cast my vote, I felt that I was doing more for my family members and friends. They will be more directly impacted by new leaders than I will.
In some ways, this made my voting process more prideful. Even if it may be from afar, I’m making an impact. There’s something beautifully symbiotic about this, I think. I can repay my community by casting a vote for a candidate that benefits them.
Once I casted my vote on paper, I carefully sealed it up — only to be confronted with another challenge — how to mail it. The outside of the envelope sternly informed me that I had to include postage for my ballot to make it to Georgia, but it did not let me know what that postage should be.
I first went to the FedEx on Cummington Mall to ask for some guidance, to which some very nice men behind the counter let me know this was a post office question. They did very nicely offer to put my envelope into a separate FedEx mailer and send it out for $13, though.
Finally, I made my way to the Brookline USPS on Park Drive, where a kind lady put a special stamp on my envelope. A ten-minute walk and 60 cents later, my ballot was off to Georgia.
A week later, I received confirmation that my ballot was counted. I felt relief that this nearly month-long process was complete. I didn’t get to vote in my local polling place or receive an iconic Georgia peach voting sticker.
However, I completed my civic duty for the first time. That’s something to be proud of.
