From History Nerd to Presidential Elector

If you had told me a year ago I would’ve been a Presidential Elector in the Electoral College, I would’ve laughed out loud. As a history nerd and Social Studies Teacher, the Electoral College is always a topic of conversation among my students. From arguing over the function to substantive disagreements about whether or not it should still exist, I have been part arbiter and part guide as my students and I semi-annually wrangle over this Constitutional Check on the power of the people.

I’m not sure what I expected to happen when I walked into the Maryland State House on December 17 to fulfill my Constitutional duty and represent the will of the majority of Maryland Congressional District 3 (CD-3). I knew I would need to cast the vote for the citizens of CD-3, but I must admit I was super fuzzy about how we were going to proceed. All I knew was that I did not want to humiliate myself, my family, my students or my district by being late. I am happy to say that I was on time and ready to serve.

As I ascended the steps to the top floor with the rest of the electors, I was awed by the beauty and history of our state house. As the oldest continually used state house in the United States, the Maryland State House has been the witness to many historical events. It served as the place where George Washington resigned his commission as the leader of the Continental Army. It is said that he went in a general and emerged as a simple farmer. It was also the only state house that served as the Capitol of the United States. And even though I have visited the Maryland State House over a dozen times in my life, the deep history always takes my breath away.

Although I thought I knew a lot of history, I learned even more as I served as an elector. I learned that Maryland is among only 6 states that have met all 60 times that the Electoral College has met after a national election. I learned that I would be making history as one of our state’s Diamond Electors! I learned that the room where we met was the same room that the Electoral College has met in since 1789. And that’s when the joy hit me.

I know it seems strange that in a state where we voted for the candidate who ultimately did not win the presidency to have joy as you cast this vote. As the descendent of enslaved people in this country, I am deeply aware of what my place at this table cost. As the descendent of the island of Puerto Rico, I am also aware that my vote counting is different than what my family experiences every election. I am also aware that as a woman that this table was only opened to us in the last 80 years. When I thought of all of this, my heart was both laden with history and lifted with joy. I was filled with joy that I could at this moment fulfill the hopes and dreams of my ancestors who were only sustained through the dark days and nights by the hope that one day I would be possible. My eyes filled with tears of gratitude that I live in a state in which only my story could be possible. And while I did feel the sadness of the moment, I was also filled with pride that we in Maryland understood the assignment. So there I served at the intersection of sadness and joy. And I decided to feed the joy.

In the musical “Hamilton”, Lin-Manuel Miranda wrote “And when our children tell our story, they’ll tell the story of tonight..” 2024 has been one massive adventure in things that I will never forget. And one beautiful part of this story was the day their momma/grandma/great-grandma became a Presidential Elector!

The Beauty of a Quiet Story

I had the honor of manning the Columbia Democratic Club table at the Harriet Tubman Cultural Center on September 16, 2023. For those of you who don’t know, the Harriet Tubman Center used to be Harriet Tubman High School. Harriet Tubman High School operated from 1949-1965 as the segregated high school for black young people. There were so many people who came back to their alma mater to see the renovations and also celebrate their unique experiences here in Howard County. For a lover of history (like me!) the day was full of stories and memories that many who were there were gracious enough to share.

I think of the story of a gentleman who told me how the local white farmers would come in to the school and would remove the strongest to work during certain times of the year. He talked about how he dreaded those days. He was annoyed at the imposition on his body and education, but knew that there was nothing he could do but to acquiesce to the will of those farmers. His face lit up with pride as he told me that he still graduated and went to college. His smile truly lit my day.

There was also the story of the lady who told me about how hard it was to have hand-me down books from the white students. The books were in such disrepair that it was hard for each student to be on the same page at the same time. However, she talked about the skill of the teachers who were able to “make a dollar out of pennies” and fed their curiosities and imaginations with the most flawed of resources. She told me that she went to college and became a teacher and then a principal before retiring.

I met a lovely couple who came to simply honor a friend who is no longer with us. They shared the stories of segregation in Virginia and how lovely they found the Harriet Tubman School. The gentleman told me how he was amazed at how many of our Harriet Tubman graduates went on to college and beyond. He talked about how he moved from a place with no segregation to Virginia where the lines between black and white was rigidly enforced. He held my hands and thanked me for being an educator. He stole my heart.

I learned so much through the beauty of the quiet stories that I heard that day. The pain and progress interwoven through every interaction filled me with an awe for those who suffered hardships to make it possible for us to have what we have today. While we are not in a perfect space at all, I am in awe of what people when through in order to get us to this space. My question is how are we going to honor those quiet stories? How can we use the inspiration of those whose stories made progress possible in order to push us into a stronger and bolder future?

Taking a Break

From April 22-24, 2023, I celebrated my 30th high school reunion with some of the best people ever. My classmates in the Class of 1993 have been some of the most dependable friends I have had the honor to know. Most people don’t know that I wasn’t always from Maryland. I was born and raised in Texas until 6th grade when I moved from Texas to D.C. to Maryland. In 7th grade, I started school at Sligo Seventh-Day Adventist Elementary School in Takoma Park. This is where I would meet most the friends I would make in the class of 1993. And this would start a journey with these amazing people that would last for almost 4 decades.

It was amazing seeing how far we’ve come from the awkward experience of middle school to adulthood. It was definitely interesting to hear how we’ve all become leaders in different fields. From medicine to education to politics, we’ve all changed in some ways but have also remained reliably the same in others. We’ve laughed and cried and shared so much together. From the joys of a new grandchild to the pain of losing members of our class, parents, and other loved ones, we’ve always shown up for each other when we’ve needed each other the most. And as always, there was the laughter…the golden melodic sounds of reconnection that happens once every 5 years.

And at the end of our reunion, we all hugged and answered the call of the individual reality of our every day lives. But we walked taller having had the powerful connection with each other for the weekend. Bolstered by the love of our community, we left each other promising that we would do this again in 5 years time. So until then, I will continue on in my individual reality until we meet again.