Hardly a week goes by that I don’t wish I could ask my mother all the questions that have piled up in my head over the ten years since her death. In that decade I’ve become interested in, even obsessed, with family history. Particularly interesting is how my ancestors engaged, or did not engage, in the major events of their times. I have a treasure trove of documents, photos, and other information that, along with the internet, have helped me learn about my maternal ancestors. But Mama could have told me so much more and with far more color.
Recently, I discovered a great aunt, Edith Clark Cowles (1874-1954), who was an activist and leader in the women’s suffrage movement in Richmond, Virginia, where I was born. After she and her husband, my mother’s uncle, separated—he went to Hollywood in 1914 where he became a character actor in more than 100 films—Edith joined the fight for suffrage. The suffragettes believed that a democratic society should allow women the basic right to vote. They also advocated for social reform: equal access to education and employment, a woman’s right to own property, custody over her children, and control over her own body. Access to the ballot would help them achieve these goals and more.
After Edith and her colleagues formed the Equal Suffrage League of Virginia, they organized marches, lobbied, and protested—relentlessly promoting their right to vote. The ESLV affiliated with the National American Woman Suffrage Association to pass the 19th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution—first introduced to Congress in 1878. The constitutional amendment passed Congress and was ratified by the required number of states in 1920, despite Virgina’s failing to do so for another thirty years. For the first time, white women voted in the presidential election that year. Edith continued her work with the ESLV’s successor, the Virginia League of Women Voters.
Black women, Native American women, and women from other racial and ethnic minority groups were discriminated against for forty-five more years until the passage of The Voting Rights Act in 1965. Despite the victories and legal access to the ballot box achieved over the past 100 years, many of these and other citizens remain vulnerable to discrimination and barriers imposed to keep them from participating in the act that is the foundation of our democracy.
My Voting Journey
During the summer of 1972, I traveled to Europe with two friends, staying in hostels, hitch-hiking, and riding trains through eight countries. I have a distinct memory of hearing about the Watergate break-in at the Democratic National Committee headquarters in Washington, D.C., while riding a train through the Swiss Alps gazing at the snow-covered mountains. That year would be my first to vote in a presidential election: Nixon versus McGovern. I did not vote for the man who would later be called a crook and resign from office.
Increasingly, I became interested in how policies were made by elected officials, especially those that affected the environment, a subject becoming my passion and ultimately my career. After graduate school, I worked for two federal agencies and a nonprofit conservation organization before helping found Chattahoochee Riverkeeper in 1994. Those positions were illuminating in terms of revealing the ugly side of politics, as well as its potential for delivering positive results for families, communities, and nature. I learned how the truth can be—and much too often is—twisted to accommodate those seeking money and power. As a prime example, Georgia’s legislature was a tough place to advocate for the environment, even more so today than twenty years ago.
Very few elected officials and candidates for office have perfect records on all the issues that matter to me. That’s understandable. Moreover, I don’t have to like every person I vote for. I try to identify those candidates who exhibit basic human values: honesty, integrity, empathy, and respect for all people, for science, and for nature. These are the people I want to represent me in government.
Over the decades, I’ve spoken to many Rotary groups about my work and more recently about my book (Keeping the Chattahoochee). I have always admired the Rotary Four-Way Test and believe it can be used to evaluate candidates and the policies proposed by our elected officials: (1) Is it the truth? (2) Is it fair to all concerned? (3) Will it build goodwill and better friendships? (4) Will it be beneficial to all concerned?
Every Vote Matters
In the 2020 presidential election, some citizens who did not cast a ballot said they did not do so because they were “not interested” in the election, didn’t “like” the candidates, were too busy, or “forgot” to vote. Many registered voters say they don’t like politics—that it’s too tribal, too divisive, and too emotional. I get it. But, that’s also a lot like saying: “I don’t care if my drinking water is clean, or public schools are providing a good education, or equal opportunities are available to all my friends and neighbors.
Georgia’s U.S. Senator Raphael Warnock has said: “A vote is a kind of prayer for the world we desire for ourselves and for our children.” Generations before us fought hard, and many died trying to protect and expand our right to vote. Those fights should not have to be repeated. No matter how polarized our current political situation, America and democracy are worth fighting for. If we don’t use our precious right to vote, we just might lose it.
Vote in November like your rights depend on it because they do. Make a plan now. Helpful information is available at GA My Voter Page at mvp.sos.ga.gov/s/.
