That Girl from Derwent dwells on the value of religion this Christmas.
That Girl from Derwent has learned a few more things about prejudice since moving up North.
That Girl From Derwent reckons if you're going to be offensive, you should find a better reason.
That Girl from Derwent considers why it is that some words have wider implications than others.
We all know how apathetic students — and people in general, come to think of it— can be.
You’d think that after the democracy epic fail (or miserable failure, whichever you like best) epitomised by George Bush’s ascension to US presidency, we wouldn’t need the “your voice matters” lecture every time democracy rears its head. But for some reason we do. Hence, those who do engage with politics, on campus or otherwise, invest time, money and patience in convincing people that they ought to, if anything, honour the struggles of their ancestors who secured the universal suffrage.
It is therefore not a surprise that a flurry of excitement has possessed both the student media and the budding campus politicians in the wake of the EU parliamentary elections: Nouse reintroduced the functional elections tab while The Yorker ran a series of features and interviews with MEPs. Anti-extremist campaigns were organised (Hope Not Hate, the sequel), posters were plastered around campus and zealous leaflet-ers urged all students to register and vote. For those still living on campus, voting has even been held in JCRs.
A few weeks ago, when my housemate C, a Malaysian with a British passport and M, from the Netherlands received their voting cards and I did not, I thought I’d be safe.
The plan was deviously simple: I would conveniently forget to register to vote, and would be content in discussing the EU elections semi-intelligently without truly taking part. I even had a speech prepared “I think democracy is crucial, obviously, but I have my doubts as to its implementations: I personally do not feel comfortable voting as I am not sufficiently informed.”
Unfortunately, my Austrian housemate A, did not receive his voting card either and promptly rang up the council to check he and I were on the register. It was then made abundantly clear that I would be losing a substantial part of my friends group to apathy if I failed to walk the 100 metres between my house and the polling station yesterday, given that I had run out of excuses.
Now, this is not my first encounter with the democratic process: I had to vote in 2007 for the French Presidential elections a month after my eighteenth birthday. When I handed my ID card and they crossed my name off the list, stamping my voting card as I dropped my voting slip into the transparent box, it had felt like a rite of passage, a voyage into adulthood. Perhaps that was what “democracy” was all about.
Today’s process was, however anti-climatic. First of all the deserted school-turned-polling station lacked the character of a mairie and the A4 sheets bearing the words “way in” made it look like a bake sale rather than the largest trans-national elections in history.
And then there was the minor issue: I couldn’t actually vote.
A and I were indeed on the list – but marked down as eligible to vote in local elections but not European elections, whereas our two other housemates were eligible to vote today but not in local elections. Go figure. Deomcracy fail, apathy win.
The entire voting system in York, including a vast number of major issues, shows that the people organising it fail. Indeed the address given on mine said that I was supposed to vote in Acomb - only by phoning the office did I find out that it was in an old school behind Aldi. The whole thing seems odd and I'm going to chase up the Council to make sure that they do it right for the general election in the next year..!
So, quick plug: if you have had any problems with the elections, please let us know at campaigns@yusu.org so that I can take it further for you!
In spite of all the postering around campus (and obviously national news coverage - but perhaps that doesn't appear on the average student's radar) I still heard people say they didn't really understand what was going on, that they didn't know whether they could vote or not and my favourite "There's not really much point though, is there?" Sorry if that makes you implode Jason!
Like Amy, I don't really understand how it could have been made *any* EASIER to those living on campus - all the work had been done for them, it was on York extra etc. etc - all they had to do was show up at Vanbrugh!
Surely people should be grateful that their votes are so valued, that people (such as Jason) would work so hard to make it easy for them?
On a semi-related note, what do people need in the UK to prove their identity? I could have easily gone to vote for my housemate who has left for the weekend and whose voting card thingie was lying around in my house somewhere... don't they ask people for a driver's license or a passport?
#3: i was wondering about ID as well for the same sort of reason, but i suppose the problem is that not everybody eligible to vote has a driving license or passport.
... so Brits should get ID cards?
haha
I suppose there's always birth certificates
I think that part of the democratic process includes people's right to abstain/not bother to vote. Odd as this at times might see to those of us who choose to embroil ourselves in the political process, I happen to think that it's also people choice not to vote if they so wish.
This isn't to say that the plain lazyness and bone-idleness that is often the true reason behind people not voting doesn't annoy me. Nevertheless, the right to choose not to vote is as important as the right too vote. In a democratic system, this is something we have to accept.
"the right to choose not to vote is as important as the right to vote."
Agreed Dan, but in light of recent events, shall we say DEMOCRACY EPIL FAIL?
Maybe democracy = not the way forward at all? Too much tolerance means we tolerate the intolerable within our ever-so-sacred democratic framework?
I agree copmletely with Dan: as much as I would love to have a high turnout, people have the right to abstain from voting - unlike in a system such as Australia, where they are obligated to vote. Indeed, had there been an "abstain" box on the ballot, I know that it would have received more votes than many of the smaller parties and turnout would have technically been higher. Watching the results come in; "English Democrats 20,000; uncounted ballots 30,000" wasn't very reassuring in that respect.
#2, I know plenty of people who didn't vote, even though I tried to persuade them. I had a few emails on the day, and the day before, asking if people were eligible to vote - obviously they could check the electoral register, etc., but people weren't doing it because they didn't know how to.
I know there was a little more that I, or other interested students on campus, could have done - but the university failed to inform and it took *ME* about 3 weeks to find out where the ballot box was going to be and what times it was open between, even chasing it up. In short: the failure wasn't democracy's but rather the people who were employed to organise the voting sites (imho!).
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