Monday, November 10, 2014

Veterans Day

Today is Veterans Day in the United States. A national holiday that celebrates the many thousands of men and women who have served this country in times of war and in times of peace.

The day has its beginning with the cessation of major conflict in World War I (On November 11, at 11 AM), became known as Armistice Day and eventually evolved into Veterans Day. Not to be confused with Memorial Day, Veterans Day is for all Veterans of the US Armed Forces, living and deceased.

This was an important holiday for my grandfather who served as a tank driver and commander in Patton's 3rd Army during WWII. The only other holidays that were more important to him were Christmas, July 4th and Memorial Day. And he made sure I knew the importance of the holiday as well.

My post today is partly a thank you.

Thank you to the members of our Armed Forces, current and retired, dead and alive. Thank you for your service and for your sacrifice. For your long months away from home; for missed memories and holidays spent away from loved ones and the comfort of home. These are all things I cherish; all the more because so many miss out every day, month and year because they have volunteered to serve our country.  They have freely given up theirs, so that I can have mine. For that, thank you.

My post is also partly a musing on a trend that deeply disturbs me; a trend that screams the opposite of appreciation to veterans everywhere.

Just over a week ago, the citizens of the United States participated in mid-term elections. While not as flashy as presidential term elections; there were important positions at stake. Here in Texas, we elected a new governor and lieutenant governor for the first time in over a decade.

However, here in my own county, Nueces, voter turnout was at a record low. Nueces county has 190,026 registered voters. Of those 190,026 voters, only 58,005 ballots were cast. That's 30.52% (http://results.enr.clarityelections.com/TX/Nueces/53331/147970/en/summary.html).

Still Nueces county's 30.52% is a bit higher than Texas' overall of 28.5%. Both are still below the national average of 36.4%, with Texas having the dubious distinction of the lowest voter turnout in the United States.

Now, some may say that this is because of the Voter I.D. laws in Texas, and I'm not inclined to totally disagree, but that doesn't account for the nation wide average of 36.4%. Over two-thirds of our nation did not vote. In Texas nearly 75% did not vote.

This is a serious problem.

And there is a reason I am blogging about it on Veterans Day.

On Veterans Day, the majority of Americans will most likely tweet or make a Facebook post acknowledging Veterans Day or thanking veterans in a general way. Some will even personally thank a family member, friend, or in a rare case a stranger for serving. As well they should.

But in my opinion, gratitude is best expressed through actions, not words. And as a nation we showed just how little gratitude we had for our veterans when only a third of us went out to vote.

How is voting showing gratitude to our veterans, past and present?

Veterans fought, sacrificed and even died for many of our liberties, foremost among these was the right to vote: to elect our own leaders and have a say in the creation of our laws.

Our voter turnout shows what we think of showing our gratitude through voting. Our lives are too busy, too hectic to take advantage of the benefits created by the sacrifice of thousands. How selfish is that? How conceited that I take the missed Christmases, Easters, Thanksgivings, birth of children and deaths of loved one and say I didn't find time in my day? How conceited that I take those who gave the ultimate sacrifice and say that I am too busy to get over to my polling location. Or I don't want to wait in a line? Or even, God forbid, that I'm not going to vote anyway because my vote doesn't make a difference? (More on that point in the post-script)

Right about the time I was getting ready for the birth of my second son, my cousin  was experiencing the birth of his first son over Skype because he was on deployment in Afghanistan. Moments like these are the sacrifices our veterans make. They are real and they are visceral and they are moments they will never get back and the best way I can think of honoring his sacrifice is to make good on the right he was sacrificing for.

We should be ashamed as a nation!

Our right to vote was bought and paid for in the blood, sweat and tears of our veterans and we do their sacrifices no honor when we refuse to exercise that right.

As a nation we need to make sure this never happens again.

We need to show our nation's veterans far more gratitude than a token Facebook post or a thank you in passing. We need to show them that their sacrifices were not in vain.

Post-Script -

I hate whenever I hear something about "my vote not making the difference". It ticks me off because it is such a selfish, individualistic way of looking at things, and at its heart, a representative democracy is neither selfish, nor is it individualistic. At least not in that way.

Here's why:

In the gubernatorial race here in Nueces County the turnout was something like this:

Greg Abbot: 54.14% (30,827)
Wendy Davis: 43.40% (24,217)
Everyone Else: 2.46% (1,404)
Total Vote: 56,448
Total who didn't vote: 133578

Here's what those numbers mean when you factor in ALL of the registered voters:
Greg Abbot: 16.2% (30,827)
Wendy Davis: 16.2% (24,217)
Everyone Else: .7% (1,404)
Those who didn't vote: 70.3% (133,578)

When you expand the race to include those who made the decision not to vote (a decision as important as candidate or party in my mind) the race shrinks to negligible levels between the Democrat and Republican nominee. At that level, the Independent Party could have run away with the vote for a we know.

Collectively, all those "My Votes Don't Matter", matter quite a bit. And at the state level, the disparity was even higher.

Alone, your vote may not count for much and may not sway an election. But it is important to remember that your vote is never alone.