In these first weeks back on campus, I have lied — often. New classes begin, we suddenly reside with hundreds of strangers, and one of the most frequent questions becomes: "Where are you from?"
I lie. "Washington, D.C." The truth is I am from Potomac, Md.
Why do I lie? Potomac is very much a suburb of Washington, and as most anyone from the nation's capital area can attest, these suburbs are flavored more by the neighboring city than by the state to which they belong. They are filled with people who work, directly or indirectly, with the federal government. As such, the population is more politically minded than in most other American localities.
I have lived in Potomac since my birth. My parents moved there in the late '70s, but until last year, they were Missouri residents. My father worked for a branch of the military, and like most military employees, he declared a State of Record, one in which he would exercise all the duties of citizenship. Though he was "based" in Maryland for nearly two decades, for as long as I can remember I would watch my parents sit at the kitchen table and fill out absentee ballots whenever Election Day approached.
But this November, after 21 years of living in Potomac, my parents will finally see the inside of a voting booth and vote on a Maryland ticket. So long referendums on riverboat gambling, hello Chesapeake cleanup.
So when another student from my home district — politically active and involved in voter registration herself — urged me to change my voter registration to New Jersey, I was taken aback. "Your vote doesn't matter in Maryland," she said.
I assumed she was talking about the fact that absentee ballots are almost never counted. Or that Maryland is not really a toss-up in the presidential election. Or, she might have been referring to the fact that my congressional representative, Connie Morella, has served seven straight terms despite being a moderate Republican in a heavily Democratic district.
But instead, her argument concerned the congressional race here in New Jersey's 12th District. She explained that in 1998, current Rep. Rush Holt (D) secured a bare majority, beating his challenger by just a few thousand votes. I felt embarrassed for knowing little about local politics, but I don't call New Jersey "home." Now that it's Election Day, though, everyone wants me to.
At the activities fair, a friend helping with the USG's effort to register voters also urged me to switch my registration. His argument focused on the proposed Borough alcohol ordinance that would allow the police to cite underage drinkers on private property. With the Borough's small population, elections could be decided by 1,000 votes. And for the first time in several years, the Princeton undergraduate community will not be on Fall Break at the time of the election.
Voter registration ends Oct. 6, one week before the ordinance will be discussed. The student voting bloc would likely oppose the reelection of any Borough Council members who support the ordinance. If the USG registers enough students, it could be in a very strong position to enter the Council meeting and dissuade the ordinance supporters.
But I'm not sure I want to change my voter registration to boost the power of my vote. To register in New Jersey would be to express my political voice in an area in which I do not feel I am a full resident. Here I would be uneducated about the area, deciding how to spend other people's tax money on services I would likely never use.
After watching my parents vote on an out-of-state ticket for all those years, and seeing their excitement when they finally voted in local elections this year, I am not convinced registering in New Jersey is the right choice for Princeton students. I realized that I care less about the weight of my vote than I do about performing my civic duty in the place where I feel most at home. Even though I am in Maryland less than half the year, my family lives there — and, after 20 years of residency, I feel more connection with its local government than with Princeton's.
The energy that some Princeton students are investing in voter registration is admirable. However, the energy that was spent on trying to convert my registration from Maryland to New Jersey was a wasted effort: I've voted in every election —general, special and primary — since I turned 18. People participating in registration drives should be encouraging citizens to vote. In some cases, their responsibilities may include supporting a particular party or issue. But telling students where to register their vote is not the best way to encourage us to go out to the polls. Julie Straus is a Wilson School major from Potomac, Md. She can be reached at straus@princeton.edu.
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