In 1939/40, my grandmother's older brothers went to vote in their elections. They managed to save up the money for poll taxes added to deter Black people from voting.

They showed up, placed their votes, and were never seen again. Lynched by white terrorists on the way home.

They made sure our great grandmother/father found one of their bodies. On their property. My other great uncles body was never recovered.

My grandmother was only 9. even though she was raumatized for the rest of her life, she used the story to motivate her entire family to vote.

I know I can be aggressive when it comes to voting. I'll also acknowledge it sometimes feels like voting is useless, especially with this previous election inversion and fail. But it's not. I promise. And even if it is, I vote because I know they're people who don't want me to.

I vote because gramma asked me to. Told me to. I vote because her brothers died while doing it. Just to spite people who hate it.

I'm voting for anyone who really wants to but can't for whatever reason.

You should too. #Election2020