The Los Angeles Convention Center is an expansive glass building framed by white, crisscross wires. Palm trees line the entrance in classic California fashion. On most days, the LACC hosts concerts, expos, and conventions where attendees sport eye-catching costumes. Perhaps a lesser known truth is that every few months, the LACC transforms into a home for thousands of hopeful immigrants attending their naturalization ceremony.
On April 9, 2014, it was my turn.
People young and old, made their way through the double-door entrances, with wide smiles on their faces.
When I first moved to the United States at age 7, I was too young to grasp the alphabet soup of labels prescribed to people like me: green-card holder, resident, H1B…alien. These words made no difference to my 2nd-grade self, who wanted nothing more than to adjust to my new American life.
As I grew older, words mattered more. Although I felt as American as apple pie, I deeply desired to be seen that way, too.
So, on that overcast day in Los Angeles, I held onto my tiny American flag souvenir and sobbed quietly as ceremony officiants boomed over the mic, “You are now citizens of the United States of America.”
Since then, I’ve waited eagerly to cast my vote in a presidential election. I’ve door knocked, phone banked, and volunteered many times before, but there’s something indescribable about the physical act of voting, the feeling of marking the name of someone you believe in, someone who you know will fight for you on the days you cannot. Never would I have guessed my first chance to participate in a general election would come at such a unique time in history.
With my personhood politicized, the right to vote is my method of survival.
Given the racist, xenophobic, and bigoted rhetoric consuming this year’s presidential election, my place on this American soil, along with many others with marginalized identities, is at risk. With my personhood politicized, the right to vote is my method of survival.
Our generation is the biggest and most diverse in American history, full of perspectives, experiences, and ideas that will help us solve major challenges together. My story is as unique as the 75 million other Millennials’ stories are, and we all have a reason to speak up and, most importantly, vote. Two years ago, only 21% of young adults (ages 18-29) cast their votes. This is the first presidential election in which young voters make up one-third of the electorate, rivaling the percentage of baby-boomers. Our elected officials at all levels of government will have the power to address or ignore the biggest issues of our time. Whether you care about student debt, mental health, sexual assault, the environment, homelessness, food insecurity, or higher education funding, we have the opportunity to decide who will set those priorities.
The Huffington Post and the National Campus Leadership Council have teamed up to elevate youth voices on the topic of civic engagement at the national level. In the coming weeks, we’ll feature blogs by Student Body Presidents and student leaders across the nation who will tell their personal stories of why this election is important to them and why they plan on getting out to vote.
On November 8, 2016, it is our turn.
It is our turn to show up to the polls. To ignite change. To make our thoughts heard.
Complacency is not an option. Take Brexit, for example. Young voters overwhelmingly voted to remain but not enough showed to make a difference in the final result. If we do not fulfill our civic duty to vote as young Americans, we will live with the consequences of this election longer than the generations that have come before us.
It is our turn to show up to the polls. To ignite change. To make our thoughts heard. We must vote. For ourselves, for those we love, for those without voices and those who are disenfranchised.
To join the movement, submit your own blog posts to vote@nationalcampusleaders.org and tweet with the hashtag #OneThirdWillBeHeard.
