It never fails. Waiting in line at my polling place, I am awash in emotion. And questions. Could the young man ahead of me be voting for the first time? Are any of the people in the room new citizens, also casting their first vote?
     Before filling in my first choice, I always give a silent thank you to the people who pushed for passage of the 19th Amendment, making it possible for women to vote.
     The ballots are in and counted. The victors speak optimistically about working together. Television commercials are back to pitching sleep numbers and orange juice. Some of us are gloating, some are wounded, but we have to admit: It's a wonderful country we live in. We can vote. Agree or disagree with the way the country is going, we can make our voices heard by casting our ballot. The President has admitted it is so.
     In the family I grew up in, voting was more than a right. It was a privilege and an obligation. Election Day was a cause for celebration—even before you knew if your candidate had won. I remember when John Kennedy, a Roman Catholic, ran for President. Many thought, if elected, he would build a tunnel from the White House to the Vatican.
     My parents had a party for the neighbors that night. Mom and Dad were the only people who voted for the Mr. Kennedy, the Democratic candidate, but that didn't stop everyone from having a good time. Our house was decorated with elephants and donkeys, symbols of the DFL and GOP. The men wore straw skimmer hats banded in red, white, and blue. In exchange for hanging crepe paper streamers throughout the house, and blowing up patriotic-colored balloons, in spite of it being a school night, my sister and I were allowed to stay up late and be part of the festivities. We were too young to vote, but knew it had to be a good thing.
     Without computers and cable television, the process of getting race results to the viewers was slow, but exciting. Dad had placed televisions in the rec room, kitchen, and living room. The air was charged with anticipation. When someone yelled, "Shh!" partygoers congregated around the screens, listening carefully to the newest update.
     We've come a long way since those days. But not far enough. Even though Nancy Pelosi will be the first female Speaker of the House, even though Minnesotans just elected our first woman to the United States Senate, and will be sending the first Muslim Congressman to Washington, it shouldn't be big news. It's about time.
     President Kennedy never built that tunnel from Washington to Rome, as people had feared, and it may seem just as silly to you that this year's election is over and here I am, writing about voting. But we have only a little more than 700 days until the next Presidential election. Dare I dream? Could a woman be elected President? Is it possible the best person for the job—regardless of race, religion, or gender—could run and win?
     After all, this is America.