The Awkward Year I Learned to Vote for Myself

As a 6^th grader, during what will (hopefully) remain my most awkward life phase, I decided to run for student body (ASB) treasurer. I knew little about money but was inspired by the prospect of directing a campaign, so I got down to business. I tweaked The Lion King’s Hakuna Matata to include lines like “It’s a trouble-free treasury; vote for Allie” and “No money worries for the rest of your days.” And then I designed stickers and posters and attached them to all the surfaces I could find at Bay View Elementary School.

On the day of the election, I delivered my speech, felt satisfied by the effort, and returned to the bleachers where the rest of my class sat watching. The “polls” opened after the assembly and all students were handed tiny paper ballots back in their respective classrooms.

When my teacher placed my ballot in front of me, she must have noticed the conflict written across my face. She knew me well by this time in the school year.

“You vote for yourself,” she told me, softly but sternly.

I weighed this advice against what I thought was the appropriate thing to do. I was confused; a “good” candidate would be generous and vote for their opponent, right? (I really believed this, somehow.)

I thought my teacher was telling me to be selfish. I know, now, that she was telling me to believe in myself.

If you don’t believe in yourself, why should anyone else?

And so, with my pencil, I ticked the little box by my name under “Treasurer.”

(P.S. Please, please, please, please, please vote this fall.)