In 1992 my dad took me to the voting booth in the school at the end of the street, and told me which buttons to push and which level to pull to vote for Bill Clinton.

I faxed in my vote for Hillary Clinton today - first time voting in the US. It feels like a strange little circle being closed. I only lived in the US briefly, but I remember a school assignment from second grade, asking us to write what we would do if we were President of the United States. If I were President of the United States, I wrote, and went on to ramble something about the environment and animals, which I guess is what we learned in school that week. My paragraph-long essay was good enough that I got called up to the principle's office along with a few other classmates, and we all read our essays to the entire school through the PA system. The principle wrote "Great job! You'd make a wonderful President!" in my notebook, and let me stamp it with her cow-stamp that mooed when you pressed it on the page. And gosh, what a thought experiment that is to give to a kid. The teacher told me to imagine being the president, and the principle said I'd make a good one, and there was no doubt in my mind that I could be. It was a few years later that I discovered I actually couldn't, but that was because I wasn't born in the US; it never crossed my mind that the might be any reason for me not to be president because I was a woman, and I'm so, so glad that it didn't.

And still. There's something about the thought of parents taking little girls into voting booths and letting them click the buttons for the other Clinton that moves me to almost tears. Those of you who have kids and are voting, I hope you get to experience that with them today.

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There's not much to this post. But, well, voting. It's such a powerful feeling, you know? My first LJ entry was written the day I voted for the first time, two weeks after turning 18, and I've voted and lost in every local election we've had since, five in counting. I don't remember ever seeing the election results at the end of the day and feeling anything but disappointed. I was jealous of Americans in 2008 and 2012, for what it must have felt like in that moment; for having a leader who inspired you, and a country that actually got him elected.

I won't be jealous this time; the international stakes are high enough and I'm invested enough that I feel I'll be able to share the joy (if, if, if.) It's November 8th now, and I'm not going to disclaim jonx all over the place; I'm actually really freaking hopeful, and basically just wanted to mark this day, because I suddenly remembered that oh yeah, this might end up being the last day in the history of the world before a woman was elected as the next US president. And that would be a thing.

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I'm feeling especially morose about politics these days; it's a truly jarring juxtaposition between heartstrings-tugging Hillary ads, and the fact that I spent Saturday night at the Remembrance Rally for Rabin, who assassinated 21 years ago last week. But I really am hopeful that America can do this. Only a little bit more to go. Come on.