statement
The long, stressful
wait for Nov. 3
I
can’t stop listening to the news. I can’t stop reading
the news. I can’t stop thinking about the news. Elec-
tion Day is Nov. 3, and consuming any type of media
about the dreaded date sends me spiraling into cycles of fear
and doubt.
Though the news causes me anxiety, I feel a responsibility
to keep myself informed about the happenings of the world
around us. However, with each headline I am reminded about
how little control I have over the fate of this election. I can’t
change the fact that neither of the people running for presi-
dent would be my first choice. Nor can I change the fact that I
live in a country with a two-party system. I can’t eradicate the
Electoral College. I can’t stop Donald Trump from refusing to
denounce white supremacy. The list of things that are out of
my control goes on and on and on.
Not feeling in control of the world around me isn’t some-
thing I want to get used to because, to a certain extent, we
all
have
plenty of control in how we
w a n t
to shape the world. We can
shape our world through
actions as small as how
we interact with our
neighbors, peers and
friends, through what
we choose to post on
Instagram and how we
work at the ground level
to rebuild our own communities. Yet, when it comes to the
election season, I feel like all I can control is who and what I
vote for, as well as convincing others to vote and talking to the
Republicans in my life about why they should vote blue.
Though I don’t consider myself a Democrat, I have voted
for the Democratic Party in every election that I am eligible.
Many of my leftist ideals are not encapsulated in the policies
of the Democratic Party — I am in favor of the common own-
ership of the means of production as well as a direct democ-
racy. However, voting Democrat in this election will bring the
administration closer to my viewpoints rather than voting for
a third-party candidate or for the Republican Party.
I have noticed that I have been feeling more anxiety re-
garding this election than ever before. Perhaps it’s because I
am more knowledgeable about politics at the age of 21 than
when I was 17, or maybe it’s because this is the first presiden-
tial election I am old enough to vote in. It might also be that
this year feels entirely different than years past. In my senior
year of high school, I could have never predicted that my last
year of college would be spent social distancing because of a
pandemic.
In the days leading up to the first presidential debate ear-
lier this month, I stayed up late at night playing out all the pos-
sible worst-case scenarios in my head. I bit my nails to a nub
waiting in line to vote early at the city clerk’s satellite office at
the University of Michigan Museum of Art. Like many voters
this year, I opted to vote early to avoid exposure to COVID-19
in overpopulated Election Day lines.
However, voting early gave me as much anx-
iety as the potential expo-
sure to COVID-19 would.
It’s hard for me to
trust that my vote
will be counted when the Trump administration is actively
engaging in voter suppression and relying on it to win the
election.
Since last year, I’ve developed the bad habit of twirling my
hair into small knots whenever I’m stressed. In light of news
such as this, I’ve cut out at least ten stands of my twisted hair.
This habit reminds me of how I felt on the night of the elec-
tion in 2016.
I was sitting in a coffee shop with my best friend, my anxi-
ety at an all-time high, as I switched between tabs on my
computer with college applications and the polls. When I
saw Trump gaining more electoral votes than Hillary Clinton
when states like Michigan were called, I expected my heart to
sink in disappointment. Yet, I was only numb. I guess this was
my way of coping with fear.
Cynicism as a result of anxiety about the election can lead
to political apathy, which has caused many eligible voters to
opt out of voting. I too have felt and recognize the feeling of
a lack of control that election season brings, and the cynicism
that follows.
The day after Trump was elected, I walked around school
like a zombie. I listened as my fellow classmates screamed
“Trump 2016” from the corners of the hallways of my public
high school in Marshall, Mich. I teared up in my economics
class only to have my teacher pull me aside and say, “It’s al-
right … he has Mike Pence as his VP. Pence is a good man.” The
words weren’t comforting then and they still bring me feel-
ings of unsettlement now.
I’ve dealt with generalized anxiety for most of my life. The
battle to defeat the worrisome thoughts and troubling fears
is a lifelong one. During election season, this battle seems all
the more daunting, especially amid a pandemic. However, not
voting because of my anxiety during election season is giving
up what little control I do have as an American citizen. I wish
I could say casting my ballot a few weeks ago eradicated my
anxiety completely, but that is far from the case. I’m not sure I
ever won’t feel anxious about the state of our nation.
Our country’s politics terrified me when I was 17 and they
terrify me even more now. Perhaps it will get better and per-
haps it won’t. I’m hoping for the former, yet I’ve grown accus-
tomed to accepting the latter.
ILLUSTRATION BY MAGGIE WIEBE
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
BY ALIX CURNOW, STATEMENT COLUMNIST
Wednesday, October 28, 2020
Lessons from Ethnography
Can Ethical
Critique
Change
Society?
Online Event: Thursday, October 29, 2020 | 4:00 p.m.
WEBB KEANE
George Herbert Mead Collegiate
Professor of Anthropology
An online lecture. For more information, visit
events.umich.edu/event/75454 or call 734.615.6667.