Stop shaming those who won’t vote this November

When I was about 12, my grandmother gave me a shirt from an off-price department store. The shirt proclaimed “VOTE” in red, white, and blue worn letters, meant to evoke a retro feeling that I wouldn’t understand until later. My grandmother bought me the shirt not only because she could see my passion for the political process, but also because she knew that one day I would cast my own vote in honor of the legacy left by so many people who fought for this right.

I can still wear the shirt, but it has a different meaning for me now. While I intend to participate as a voter this November, it is unlikely that I will wear the shirt ever again or implore anyone to vote who does not see their place in the electoral process.

I wasn’t always this way. When Barack Obama ran against John McCain in 2008, I hated the idea that there were people who could vote and failed to do so for whatever reason, while my pre-teen self had to sit on the sideline and dream about it. I acknowledged that the two-party system, among other things, is corrupt. However, I rationalized my continued loyalty to the voting process not due to any particular devotion to the Constitution, but because a few generations ago, many people who looked like me couldn’t vote at all.

In light of voter suppression ID laws, I knew that my right to vote and exercising that right was important to me and if any of my friends didn’t want to vote then, by golly, I was going to try and convince them. If you’d asked me a couple of years ago where I stood on my fellow black people who refuse to vote, I would proudly stand with many of my peers who consistently implore and simultaneously shame other folks into voting for the “lesser of two evils.”

However, college has got me thinking, as it has the tendency to do. I’ve been pondering about what the electoral process means, particularly for black people in this country. Professor Paul Frymer has written about “electoral capture,” noting how it traps African-Americans into voting for a specific party (namely, the Democratic Party) as politicians attempt to distance themselves from black constituents, leaving us with few alternatives. I’ve been thinking about Professor Eddie Glaude, who has expressed his disdain for Hillary Clinton’s Democratic Party as a party that “repeatedly turns its back on the most vulnerable in this country.” I’ve even been thinking about the glimmer in my parents’ eyes when President Obama was elected not once, but twice, and how frankly disappointed I’ve been that he has maintained a status quo for the African-American community.

Not yet have I gotten to a point where I can “discard” my vote. As November sneaks up on us, I am less sure every day that Jill Stein as a third-party candidate is a reasonable alternative. What I am sure of is that, regarding the countless number of people who are disillusioned with the system or do not feel that Hillary Clinton’s neoliberal politics are worthy of their vote, I refuse to shame them any longer. On a personal level, I understand how fear may be playing a role in movements against Trump and mobilizing voters, and that it may be seen as a privilege to consider voting as an intellectual exercise rather than an attempt at survival. Donald Trump’s rhetoric makes his presidency unimaginable. However, a failure to vote out of fear — or better yet, to note that voting will not diminish the culture of racial and xenophobic antagonism that Trump has championed — should not be reason for ridiculing. Individuals hold a great deal of power within institutions, but in this election, too much emphasis has been placed on their role in making the nation better or worse. It is not those who choose not to vote or who vote for third-party candidates who should be blamed.

About a week ago, President Obama stated: “If you don’t vote, that’s a vote for Trump.” I understand President Obama’s partisan obligations as a leader of the Democratic Party, but I must firmly acknowledge his obligations to the disillusioned electorate. It is disturbing that so often we put onus on the victims of this two-party system instead of questioning and challenging the system itself. As for me, I will be voting this November, but with the full knowledge that my vote is my own and I cannot use my lingering democratic spirit to shame others for not doing the same.

Imani Thornton is a Politics major from Matteson, Ill. She can be contacted at it4@princeton.edu.