Pedro vs. Obama

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Pedro vs. Obama

Anthony Beerswig, South Student and Guest Writer

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Once upon a time I was twelve years old. It was the day of the 2012 election, and my seventh grade humanities class was going to this super cool, Kids Vote thing. It’s so cool. Children of all ages go to a nearby polling place with their history class and they get to vote on the presidential election. Of course, it doesn’t actually affect the outcome of the race. It’s entirely for fun and teaching kids about how the election process works.

So yeah. Day in November. Second hour. We leave our humanities class and walk across the lawn to a gym where voting is going on. The more I think back on it, the less I remember. There was a joke going around at the time that we should all Vote for Pedro as a write in candidate (Napoleon Dynamite is really popular among middle schoolers). So I was sitting there, in my lil’ voting booth, deciding whether or not I should vote for Obama or Pedro. It was pretty rough. I really wanted to be loyal to my friends (who I assumed would all Vote for Pedro, entirely for humor’s sake) but I also didn’t want to be the reason that Obama wasn’t elected (as fake president of our middle school).

I remember going back and forth. Eventually, I went with my heart and bubbled my way into Obama’s name. I really didn’t see it as at all significant at the time. But now, four years later, after sitting through the scariest election of my lifetime, I see the whole experience with brand new eyes. I have so much privilege. So so much. Just for the pigmentation of my skin and the organs in my pants. Yesterday’s results terrify me. Now I’m fearful that we’ll never elect a Pedro, or a Cindy or anyone who doesn’t enjoy the same privileges I enjoy on a daily basis. I’m worried that I won’t live to see the first president walk into the inauguration ceremony, and plant a huge kiss on his husband. I’m scared that we’ll never get to see a president swearing in on a Q’Aran, or a Torah.

What does this mean for our nation? What does this mean for our lives? Every few hours it hits me. I’m being run over, again and again. I’m scared. I’m really fucking scared. Where do we go from here?

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