I haven’t been in the US for a Presidential Election in more than eight years. That’s my excuse for failing to realize how busy our polling station would be today.
I brought my three kids along, thinking they would be enriched by the democratic process. Instead, I have probably convinced them that voting is an arduous process requiring an hour and a half of standing in line.
My daughter was a trooper. She played with my phone, she chatted, and she asked politely when it would be time for breakfast (I had promised a trip to Starbucks if she behaved). My two sons left with my husband after five minutes after they made clear they weren’t happy with the wait.
I made the breakfast bribe before I saw the line, snaked through the corridors of our local elementary school. In 2004 and 2008, I mailed my ballot in from London, along with other expat absentee voters.
It didn’t occur to me that voting today would take longer than 20 minutes.
The hour and a half wait was worthwhile, though; my six year old relished touching the screen and casting the electronic ballot. So once she forgets the length of the line, she’ll be a dedicated voter. Like her mom.
Reverse Culture Shock 