Tales From Pantsuit Nation: In Honor Of My Grandfather

I put on my pantsuit and voted today.

I voted in honor of my grandfather, who after being ordained as a minister in the ’30s, went around the world, not to tell people what to believe, but to learn what they believed. I voted in honor of my grandmother, whose uncle didn’t want to send her to college, but her father left a requirement in his will that she go. She wanted to be an engineer, but was barred from that course of study by the University, so she chose math. She went on to be a teacher and an administrator, and helped a lot of other girls and boys to follow their love of math and science.

I voted in honor of my mother, who got her Ph.D. while raising two young children and always taught us to think critically and not get pushed around. I voted in honor of my father, who supported my mother’s learning and professional career, never allowing anyone to mistake her for his secretary, proud that she was his business partner. He always made my sisters and I feel that we could do and be anything. If we had wanted to be president, he would have backed us 100%.

I voted for my husband, who is a first-generation immigrant (also voting for Hillary). I voted for my children of mixed race. For my daughter who seemed uninterested in the race until she pushed back civilly against a school friend’s false Trump talking points. For my son who loves to have long hair, and doesn’t mind being mistaken for a girl because girls are awesome, too.

I voted for myself, for love, for the world, for all of you.