The Vote
Dr. Annecy Baez has a dream…
“Dreaming of Other Worlds,” collage by Annecy Báez, 2019
The United States presidential election of 2000 was a contest between Democratic candidate Al Gore, then Vice President, and Republican candidate George W. Bush, then Governor of Texas. In the American system of presidential election, the electoral vote determines the winner, and although Bush won this count, it was Al Gore who received the most votes, called “the popular vote”.
A few days before the election of 2000, I had this dream, which has visited me once again in recent months.
“Confusion” by Annecy Báez, January 2019
A terrible war is coming to an end.
I can see the past, like an observing camera: the bomb falling upon us, the billowing fire above, then the black rain. The land is left incinerated.
Those of us who survive are separated by groups. The Elite group—“the white people”—are sent to the Domes, which mimics the old Earth, with trees and birds, all preserved as if for Noah’s Ark.
The ethnic groups—the “people of color,” including black and brown communities, but also Jewish and Asian—are escorted to the middle of the Earth, a humid, hot place, with many tunnels that slowly transform our being to meet the needs of the harsh environment. In order to swim in the middle of the earth, we develop gills alongside our lungs. In order to see in the dark, we develop X-ray vision, our eyes slanting without eyelids; we lose our tear ducts and are unable to cry. We have to wear a shoulder patch of a multicolored sun on our left arm. Ms. Penny Pinch, an ancient Asian woman of young spirit, teaches us Tai Chi and Qi Gong and Reiki. She becomes our spiritual leader, she keeps our spirits high.
“Dream of Parallel Worlds” by Annecy Báez, February 2019
One day, news comes: A new president has been elected and some of us can return to populate Old Earth. Eventually, my husband and I are chosen to return, and I am saddened to leave behind my young daughter and extended family. My husband and I arrive to Old Earth and are disappointed to find that the land is barren and that there are shootouts and muggings.
We move through the violence to reach a bodega. Once at the grocery store, we notice newspaper headlines featuring the newly elected president—I am so angry! We learn that the American system has adopted a “successful” method of voting that was created in France. Although this system has worked well there, we know it will not work well here. In this new system, it is the people’s tears that elect the president: Tears are placed in a bucket and then weighed; the weight of all the people’s tears elect the new President. No, this method will not work for us in Old Earth America. We have no tear ducts, we cannot cry, we cannot vote.
“Dream of Eye” by Annecy Báez, February 2019
We walk away from the bodega to explore our surroundings, between the shootouts and gang fights and our own anger. Not far from the bodega, we find a little Chino-Latino restaurant whose awning bears the image of a glimmering sun. We run in for cover and soon realize that the restaurant belongs to our spiritual leader Ms. Penny Pinch.
I tell her about the election and our inability to vote. She tells me that there is hope. She shows me my hands and says, “The power is in the palm of your hand.”
I am confused, until she places my hand on the ground and, at that moment, a little seedling begins to grow from the floor of the restaurant. I press my hands together as if in prayer, and then I notice another seedling grow. Our hands, says Ms. Penny Pinch, have powerful energy that can make things grow, can heal the broken Earth. I’m so pleased, and my husband is happy.
We take a table at the restaurant, and I greet all my old friends from the Middle Earth those who had the courage to populate the Earth first. I take a deep breath—but the profound joy I feel also makes me miss my daughter. This joy-pain is so strong that a miracle happens: a single teardrop falls from my eye. Shocked, everyone stands up and applauds.
“The Vote” by Annecy Báez, 4 July 2020
My tear is a glimmer of hope that one day we will all be able to cry, and that, some day, we will also be able to vote.
