10 | OCTOBER 27 • 2022 

PURELY COMMENTARY

O

n Nov. 8, I will not vote. If I 
could, I would, and if I did, I 
know who I would vote for. 
Yet, at 16, I am old enough to drive. And 
since I work, I am old enough to pay 
taxes, yet still too young to 
vote. 
It’s too bad. I know 
this election will be an 
important election for my 
generation. A generation 
that feels forgotten by the 
pandemic and neglected 
by politicians too eager 
to do anything that would get them 
elected. Even though I won’t be able to 
cast a ballot on election day, I will still 
be able to use my voice and volunteer 
for a campaign, allowing me to have the 
greatest influence for now.
My generation came of age in isolation 
during the pandemic. Sitting at home 
with YouTube and TikTok as my primary 
news sources (all from reputable, 
independent sources), I watched the 
world around me crumble. At the same 
time, I discovered my voice as I watched 
my peers speak up for things they did 
not believe were right. I saw how, despite 
our age and inability to vote, we could 
make a difference. 
That is why I get so frustrated when 
I see people old enough to vote who 
don’t exercise that right. So, when people 
are questioning the legitimacy of fair 
and equitable elections, I hope that gets 
more people upset, so they get out and 
vote. When our Congress and legislature 
are so close between the majority and 
minority, and we get frustrated that 
nothing gets done in Washington or 
Lansing, I hope the people who can vote 
will. Yet, in the August primary, only 
30% percent of the people in Oakland 
County who could vote did. I may be 
only 16, but I am old enough to know 
how sad and disappointing that is. 
I spent this summer traveling to a 

number of national parks, including 
the Flight 93 National Memorial, 
Valley Forge, Independence Hall and 
Gettysburg. Each one served as a 
reminder of how generations before 
me stood up to terrorists on 9-11, 
fought for our independence during the 
Revolutionary War and ended slavery in 
the Civil War. I read our Constitution, 
the Declaration of Independence and 
the Gettysburg Address from the places 
where they were written. At each stop, I 
learned about the tremendous sacrifice 
generations before mine made so that 
we could be free and have the right to 
vote. Perhaps the adults around me have 
forgotten about the past and consider 
our election something that is simply 
optional.
While I sit on the sidelines and wait to 
vote in my first election, I think about 
the struggles the generations before me 
had and the opportunities they seized to 
rise up so I could be free. So, I am not 
sure what the adults who are not voting 
are doing, but your priorities need to 
change. 
Too often, I hear that one vote does 
not make a difference. First, you are 
voting by deciding not to vote; one vote 
can make all the difference. I may not 
have been alive when George W. Bush 

was first elected and was just 3 when he 
left office, but I know that it was a close 
election, and it came down to a recount 
in Florida where the president won by 
just 537 votes. The outcome might have 
been different if every registered voter in 
Florida voted. 
To my peers, I know we can’t vote, but 
we can still make a difference. Let’s start 
with our parents and grandparents, aunts 
and uncles. Hold them accountable and 
make sure they vote. Find the issues that 
matter to you. There are a lot of them. 
Learn about the candidates and meet 
with them. Ask them questions and, 
if you like them, volunteer for them. 
Knock on doors, walk in parades and get 
on the phone to make sure you can make 
a difference well before we can vote. 
To the adults who can vote but 
don’t, shame on you. You are doing 
yourself and your country a disservice. 
People lost their lives to give you this 
opportunity, and you are ignoring their 
sacrifice. Be a better person and follow 
in the wake of my generation. Learn 
about the candidates and do me a favor, 
vote. My future depends on it, and so 
does the rest of the world. 

Spencer Cherrin is a sophomore at the Frankel Jewish 

Academy.

Spencer 
Cherrin

student’s corner

To The People Who Can Vote 
But Don’t, Shame On You.

