The Most Powerful Four-Letter Word
by cheryl dietrich

Here's a quick quiz for you. Take the three letters, e, o, and v. Add another consonant, mix them up, and come up with the most powerful word in the English language. I hear a lot of voices yelling "love" out there. Okay, love's powerful too. But

I hope even more of you came up with "vote."
Of course, we're all solid citizens who wouldn't dream of not exercising the power of the vote this November, so I don't really need to write this. But just in case there's someone out there saying, "Why bother? I don't like any of the candidates." Or "One vote doesn't matter anyway." "I'm just too busy." "I don't know anything about the issues." Or even (my personal favorite) "Not voting is my protest. It's how I send a message." Keep reading. You're the people I'm talking to.
In 1970 I spent a junior year abroad in Athens. Greece in those days was ruled by an American-backed military junta, which had sent the king fleeing into exile, then had conveniently forgotten to replace the monarchy with a democracy. They controlled Greece with all the trappings appropriate to a modern-day reign of terror: secret police, midnight arrests of dissidents, many of whom simply disappeared, and of course no elections. Although I was too young to vote for more than class president, I innocently chose to walk down a crowded Athenian sidewalk sporting a bright red and blue shirt with "VOTE" patchworked across its front. I was confused by the people staring at me and by the nervous Greek who accosted me, furtively asking if I would sell him my shirt. A friend pulled me aside aghast. "Don't wear that shirt here," he said. "It could get you in trouble. It's dangerous."

The Greek dictators rightly feared the power of the word "vote." To say it, to shout it, to write it, to wear it--all were subversive acts. I hadn't thought about my shirt's message when I brazenly wore it in a repressed country like a banner. I feel reasonably sure I'd only bought it in the first place because I liked its bright blocks of red and blue. I gave it away to a Greek friend, who was very careful where he wore it.

Back in the States in my senior year, I continued to learn from the Greeks about the power of voting. Studying Fifth Century Athens, I read a series of essays from various scholars arguing whether the Athens of Pericles, Socrates, and Sophocles could be truly considered a democracy since only a small percentage of its populace had the right to vote. The scholars' arguments centered around unenfranchised slaves, foreign residents, and men of no property. Not one of them mentioned the women of Athens and the fact that they couldn't vote. Those learned scholars didn't even consider it germane to their arguments--which said as much about our civilization as it did about ancient Greece.

In Louisa May Alcott's An Old-Fashioned Girl, a group of young women discuss a sculpture one of them is working on. The sculpture represents Woman in her ideal state and the discussion centers around what symbolic object she should hold. One woman suggests a scepter, another a child; a third says she should be holding the hand of a man to show they are partners in life. The artist rejects all their ideas except one: "Give her a ballot box." This was written in the 1870s, almost fifty years before the nineteenth amendment was passed.

Until that time, many women were reviled, jailed, beaten, committed to mental institutions because they believed they deserved the right to make choices about who would govern their world. The ruling powers thought otherwise. After all, every woman surely had some man who would look out for her interests at the polls. Today we consider this attitude absurd, but too many of us voluntarily silence our voices.

To our shame, eighty-four years after we won the hard-earned right to vote, substantially fewer women than men exercise this power. Yet, elections continue to demonstrate that we cannot count on someone else to look after our interests. The famous "gender gap" in voting reflects how our life experiences tend to invest women more strongly in certain issues than men. Most women are intensely concerned about reproduction, health, raising and educating children, support for families and the elderly. Our voices and our votes keep these concerns in the public forum. Of course, we are as interested in the economy as men are, but we're more likely to recognize liveable wages, equal pay, and family-friendly benefits as essential components of our nation's economical health. Similarly, in our concern about security and defense, women are more likely to insist on balancing prison construction with childhood intervention programs and armies with foreign aid and diplomacy.

No wonder we're a formidable force when we get out the vote. No wonder candidates from all parties are wooing the female vote with the fervor of a besotted suitor. We have the power to sway the future in our vote.

Voting is our single most important right, because without it none of the others are secure. As with so many of our rights, exercising this one isn't easy. I've heard people say, "It doesn't matter if you don't know anything about the candidates or the issues. You still need to get out to the polls." I disagree. If you don't know why you're choosing a specific person or position, all you're doing is showing up and making a random mark. That's not voting.

A vote is a deliberate, informed choice. There's plenty of information out there, in the papers, on TV, over the Internet, in the mail. Even though almost everything you read and hear will come with a bias, it's all helpful. Clarify what issues are most important to you and read what the candidates say about these issues--or don't say. Look for sources which are as even-handed as possible, for example, the League of Women Voters.

It's your job to sift through the words and make the best decision you can. Assume your vote will be the decisive one. Make sure it's one you can live with.
You must be registered in your county of residence by October 8th to vote in the general election in November. If you're not registered to vote, contact the board of elections in your county (in Buncombe County, call 250-4200 or go to their website, www.bcboe.org). You can also request a registration form on-line at www.BeAVoter.org.

Many are calling this coming election the most important one of the last fifty years, so lines may be long on election day. I hope they will be! If you don't want to stand in line or can't get to the polls on Election Day, vote with an absentee ballot. You don't have to have a reason to vote absentee, but you must request a ballot in writing from your local board of elections no later than the morning of October 26th. You may also vote absentee without pre-arrangement by going to one of the one-stop absentee voting locations that will be set up from October 14th - 30th. Contact the State Board of Elections at (919)733-7173 or at www.sboe.state.nc.us for more information.

Prepare to exercise your most fundamental right as an American citizen this fall. Tell everyone you know to register, show this article to friends, educate yourself on the candidates and the issues, and finally, vote. Just get out there and vote. Feel the power.


Cheryl Dietrich lives in South Asheville. She's the secretary-treasurer of Precinct 29 of the Buncombe County Democratic Party. She can be reached at cleedietrich@cs.com.