My father taught all of his children that it was important to vote. He told us that if we did not vote, we had no right to complain. Coming from a lineage of not only royalty, but politicians, I understand how important our voting rights are. I remember my Mom and Dad getting up early on Election Day and one arguing with the other over who is making who late to the polls before/after Dad got off work. This day was an event in our family, with months of discussion which heated up during the last days. I was happy to vote in my first election, let me tell you. That happened to be the year there were two presidential contenders in my town, stomping for votes. I remember feeling so important the night before the election, making sure to call my parents to discuss the issues. I even laid out my clothing for the next day, with special care and had on hand my lucky "rum raisin" lipstick. Dang, how jaded was a Sistah? On a State level I shared my father's choices, but we differed on the Presidential one. But I was not about to tell him I disagreed with his choice. I turned out to be right on that one, but he will never know it.

I was up all night with my pet hamster, clicking the channels to get all of the election results. I could not believe I was playing such an important role in steering our nation toward it's future. While I watched election returns, I thought about all the blacks who had sacrificed their lives for me to be able to vote. I heard all of this from my father, and at the time, I could not fathom a world that would choose to discriminate against ME based upon the color of my skin. Where was my head at? I guess I had so much trauma and drama to heal from that the color of my skin was the very least of my worries. I vowed that should I ever be elected to office, I would do the best I could to make sure nobody ever went through the ordeal imposed upon me. Although, I have not since aspired to run for public office, I am content to light the fires of the consciousness of all the people I knew nothing about back then. I am always amazed, in retrospect, at how it all turned out. I had no color issues back then and was very happy to "be" whoever I was told to be. I was happy, I thought, to live in a world I believed was devoid of color. I never knew that down the line would be the fiery woman, embracing very Afrikan beliefs, I am today.

I am watching a new generation of voters step up to the plate. I have handed the story of my family to my own child and spiritual children. I share the stories of election years past with my nieces and nephews, along with a new generation of spiritual children and their children. My own child could not wait to vote in his first non-presidential election the year he turned 18. Being a young black man, fresh from the school system, he did all he could for the children who would come behind him. I love discussing politics with him, and trust me, we debate the issues and we each defend our positions with the fiery passion of Sango. Although his head is Yemoja, his father is Sango and he is so much like me. I am proud of the young man. Now, he is facing an even bigger decision in this election year, his first presidential election, (do they have a card for this?) knowing how important it is for him to cast his ballot and bring others of our people on board to do the same.

It is m prayer that every black father and mother instills in their children the importance of voting. This right did not come easy for us, with everybody and their dogs having the right to vote and ours on "revoke it when we feel like it" status. Isn't that a damn blip? The very people who built this country have to have their Voting Rights renewed every few years. And we have mud butts like Trent Lott who actually voted against the last renewal, with black folk passing that fact off as an urban legend, from computers all over the globe.

No matter how many Presidents we have, we won't come into our own until we as a people can come together to agree on the issues that we face. Change will never be change unless there is change. It takes evolutionary thinkers to begin the process and I hope we all remember the inner cities, the children, the pain, the homeless, the joblessness and the general state of the black nation when we head to the polls. We may not have the candidate on the ticket we need at this time, but if we begin to heal individually, one day, we can actually have a shot at having one of our own in the White House. Until then, we need to concentrate on our healing, remember our past and look to a better future for those who come behind.

Pass the following link around to everyone you know and make sure it gets in the hands of our high schoolers.