This morning I pulled myself out of bed at 6 and trudged up the short hill to the college where I would cast my vote. The polls were to open at 7 but by 6:15, I was the 12th person in line. Only 15 minutes later the line of people had wrapped around the administration building.

I’ve voted many times before but I have never felt so excited as I was this morning.

I stared at the presidential ticket options and pushed the screen to indicate my choice. And I couldn’t help but grin when I felt my heart skip a beat. It was all I could do from letting a “yay” escape from my lips. Then I finished up the rest of the ballot (I am proud to say I had researched each of the candidates and questions) and turned in my card and headed back to my apartment.

I truly hope that the polls have been right. I hope this country is mature enough to set aside its racial biases. I hope I will not head back from the DC Democratic party tonight with my head hung low and my heart heavy. Moreover, I hope that I am able to proudly say that I am an American to the Italians I meet while in Europe next week.