I come from a little town in Northwest Pennsylvania called St. Mary’s. It’s literally in the middle of nowhere, located right in-between Erie and Pittsburgh. During the spring of my senior year at St. Mary’s Area High School, my classmates and I were herded into the auditorium to listen to a presentation made by the Elk County Voter’s Registration Office. Basically, my peers and I were pressured into registering to vote at that assembly since most of us were of legal voting age, 18. I had many doubts about registering to vote at that time since I was heading to West Chester University in the fall, an area outside of my voting district. None of the presenters were willing to answer the question I had about voting services for college students. Unsure of what to do, I registered to vote during the assembly. I received a card some weeks later stating that I was registered as a Democrat in Elk County. Little did I know that this decision would come back to haunt me one-year later.When the primaries for the 2008 Presidential election rolled around, I was already in my first year at WCU. The primaries were a hot topic in my political science class, discussed often. Conversations with my friends and family also revolved around the upcoming elections. Like many other Democrats, I was fairly uncertain as to whom I was going to vote for. Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama were blazing their way across the United States in their campaigns, and I followed their progress in each state.
As the Pennsylvania primaries drew closer, I was thrilled that Clinton and Obama were bringing their campaigns directly to WCU. I had hoped that these events would help me make a more informed decision when I voted in April. I went and listened to Chelsea Clinton campaign for her mother when she held a Q&A session at Sykes. Although I wasn’t able to get a ticket to see Obama’s appearance on Hardball, I watched the program in my room in Ramsey Hall while the show was broadcast live, about 1000 feet away, from Hollinger Gym. However, while I was caught-up in the political action, I was also kept busy with academic and extracurricular activities. I looked into the absentee ballot process, but filling out the application took second priority to my other obligations.
I felt overwhelmed by my indecision on a Democratic candidate and my voter registration issue. I had a conversation with my father about my voter registration situation sometime in early March. He suggested that I fill out a new form for a change of address so that I wouldn’t have to worry about filling out an absentee ballot. I knew that there were voter registration tables parked out in front of Lawrence Dining Hall and Main Hall. I decided to obtain a form from one of these tables and change my address from my home in St. Mary’s to my residence hall at WCU. I assumed it was practical because I could use the same registration when I voted in the general election in November.
Before my writing class in Main Hall, I approached the voter registration table outside of the building and asked one of the volunteers for an application I could fill out. I got the form, filled it out completely, and gave it back to the two people working at the table. I trusted the campus voter registration drive to submit my information to the Chester County Voter Services Office. Weeks went by, April 22 drew closer, and yet I still hadn’t heard anything back. I was so busy that I couldn’t contact the voter services office; I thought perhaps they would have my information on hand at the polling place.
When the day of primary elections in Pennsylvania came, I didn’t know what to do. I went to my assigned polling place and explained to the volunteer working that I had changed my address and filled out the appropriate forms. The woman working at the table had all of the documented address changes on hand. I told her my name, she flipped through the thick packet of papers, and to my surprise and horror she told me that I simply was not listed. I was shocked and disappointed to say the least. Another woman came over and tried to help me by calling the Voter Services Office to see if perhaps my changed information just wasn’t listed in the packet they had, but t he office confirmed my fears; my change of address was never documented. I explained to the woman who helped me that I submitted my change of address form directly to the registration drive on campus, but she said that sometimes forms collected at these drives don’t always get submitted to the Voter Services Office. I tried to hide my embarrassment as I thanked her and exited the building.
All of the time and effort I put into researching each possible candidate, following the previous primaries, and watching the debates and news coverage had gone to waste. Granted, I know that the situation I encountered on voting day was partially my fault. I was so busy that I couldn’t follow-up and see if my information had actually been submitted. I learned from this incident that I need to take personal responsibility, on my own, to ensure that I am able to vote in November. But what’s the point of having tables on college campuses urging students to “Rock the Vote” by registering, when their information may not get processed at all? Was the campus voter registration drive truly effective if it deprived a student of their right to vote in their state’s Presidential primary election?
I feel that West Chester University and the Chester County Voter Services Office need to make a cooperative effort to ensure that this will not happen to another student in the future. The primary elections are over, but I still feel great remorse over the fact that my efforts in making an informed vote were futile and ignored.
Jennifer James is a first-year English major with a minor in music. She can be reached at JJ655874@wcupa.edu