Hi Secretary Clinton,
My name is Kelly. I live in Indiana. This will be the first presidential election in which I am eligible to vote. I, like you, believe in taking a strong stand for the equality of women. We go about it a few different ways, but I won’t get into that here.
I’m sure you’re pretty nervous with the election coming up. I mean, voting is in November and you’ve been campaigning–well–for a very long time. It must feel like 2016 will be the culmination of everything you (and everything a lot of women in general) have worked for. You may become the first female President of the United States of America.
It’s incredible. I get chills thinking about how a woman, despite all of the sexism that runs unabated in too much of our nation, can become a frontrunner not only for a party, but for a country. You’ve practically done it. History books will write about you and the challenges you overcame to bring the political machine to its knees. Little girls will read about you and finally have a concrete image of a woman who was powerful and demanded the world take notice.
The thing is, I’m scared for those little girls. When they grow up, I want them to be able to read about a wildly intelligent, incredibly caring, hugely intimidating, remarkably determined, uncommonly intuitive, exceptionally truthful, and decidedly diplomatic human being that we had as president from 2016-2024. I don’t want her to read about you. And I certainly don’t want any little girls already in this world to live under the legislature you will pass.
It was supposed to be you, Mrs. Clinton.
You were supposed to be the one we could all follow. Surely if we couldn’t agree on go or stay, yes or no, shoot or stand down, we could all come together on the simple notion that “YES, finally, we have someone to be our voice. We are women, and we will be heard.” If nothing else, we were supposed to be unified by the fact that we have faced the same oppression. Our climbs have been marked not only by the fact that our ladders are shorter than men’s, but that rungs are missing, and for each step we take we are pulled down two more. If nothing else, we were supposed to be brought together by the dispiriting knowledge that we have been denied the same opportunities, and we will keep fighting for what is rightfully, equally, ours.
That was supposed to be you, but it won’t happen.
Let me be clear that I want to see a woman in office like I want every child to have a home, but I refuse to give you my vote simply because you were born a woman. I’m not sure I could vote for you if it came down to it, Mrs. Clinton, because I think there are a multitude of other candidates whose lies I trust more than your “truths.”
I’m scared for you, scared for me, and scared for the country. It was supposed to be you, Secretary Clinton, but now I don’t know who it will be. Please remember that the first time you sit behind your desk in the Oval Office.
A First Time Voter