The first time I voted was a few months into the COVID-19 pandemic. Everything about that day felt strange. I remember standing six feet behind my mother, the first woman who taught me the importance of voting. We walked into the old Presbyterian church I had driven past my whole life but never entered until that day. The air smelled of old hand sanitizer, and the lights were dim, dust dancing on the rays coming in from the faded stained glass. If the weight of the world were not so heavy, it might have been a picture-perfect moment. Voting has always been important to my mother, not only as a woman, but as someone who broke barriers in her own career as a firefighter. She knows what it means to have to fight for a seat at the table. Even amid a global crisis, I felt the weight of that importance as I waited in line that day. As I got closer to casting my vote, I felt the weight of all who had come before me even heavier.
I felt connected to every woman who had come before me. Every woman who was told again and again that politics was not their place, that they were too emotional, too uninformed, too fragile for the work of democracy. Every woman who gathered on street corners, holding signs demanding change. Every woman who faced the angry crowds, endured violence, jail, suffering, just to fight for what should have already been. Every woman standing in line at the polls for the very first time, their hearts beating quickly, just like mine. Their hands trembling as they received their ballots. This was more than a personal milestone. It was a victory for all women, past, present, and future. It was a monumental step forward, but it was not the finish line.
Even though more than a century has passed since the 19th Amendment was ratified, I imagine that the things I felt standing in line to vote were not so different from what the women before me felt. Though the issues may look different from those in 1920, the fight for equality in a world not created for women to succeed remains. The right to vote was not freely given but the result of decades of persistence from the trailblazers of the suffragette movement. Recognizing all of the progress that has been made in the past 100 years only fuels the fire in me to continue fighting for all that still needs to be done. While we have come so far, and for that we celebrate, we cannot ignore that the right to vote is still being challenged. Voter suppression, gerrymandering, misinformation, and new restrictions disproportionately affect marginalized communities, including women of color, low-income women, and LGBTQ people.
As a Christian, I feel that voting is much more than a civic duty. It is an obligation to continue fighting for the least of these. Not only do we recognize the women of the suffragette movement, but the women from scripture who stood with courage and conviction during difficult times, too. Women like Deborah, Esther, and Mary Magdalene who risked everything to speak truth and bring light into dark places. When we vote, especially as women, we are called to carry that same spirit forward. Voting is the biggest act of faith in action we can hold as Christians. It is a way to stand up for equality, compassion, and dignity, to protect the rights of marginalized people. Every ballot we cast is a step toward building a more just and loving world, and no vote is too small.
The second presidential election I voted in was much heavier than the first. Unlike the first time, where I had just started to understand the power of my vote, this time I was profoundly aware of what was at stake. As a young, queer woman, I was witnessing firsthand the rights of me and my sacred siblings being threatened. Reproductive rights are being stripped away, erasing years and years of what so many fought to protect. LGBTQ rights were facing increasing threats, with new laws and policies aiming to restrict transgender folks’ access to healthcare and basic human rights. More recently, the Supreme Court considering cases that could overturn or weaken the protections for gay marriage proves exactly why this election was so important. The violence and genocide in Gaza in the midst of this election served as a stark reminder that the fight for human dignity does not end at our borders, either. Voting was no longer a personal milestone; it was an urgent act of resistance in a world that quite literally was falling apart at the seams.
I stood in that same old church to vote again, but this time it was much harder to hold on to the hope I felt at 19. The dust was still dancing, the hand sanitizer smell still lingered, but any hope flew away with every gust of wind that day. The excitement I felt my first time voting turned into dread, into fear, into uncertainty. In the days to come, the weight of the world became heavier, and November 5th felt like the end of the world. It felt like defeat not only for me, but for every woman who had come before me. It was like a movie scene flashing before my eyes of all of the progress made since 1920 crumbling away. In the sadness and fear, one thing remained blaringly obvious: every vote matters. Now more than ever, every vote matters.
It matters for the little girl who deserves to grow up seeing a woman lead this country and know that there is no limit to what she can achieve. It matters for the working mother who struggles to make ends meet on a paycheck. It matters for the queer teenager who wants to live openly and safely without fear of discrimination or violence. It matters for the immigrants who hope to build a new life with dignity and security. It matters for the woman navigating a male-dominated workplace where sexism and discrimination make every day a struggle for respect and equal opportunity. It matters for the women and girls in Gaza who will never get to grow up and see a future of equality. It matters for the elderly woman who fought for the right to vote decades ago and now prays for a future where her grandchildren can do the same. Every vote carries the hopes and struggles of those who came before us. Every vote is a way to honor their stories and to demand a world that is more just, compassionate, and equal.
As I reflect on these experiences and the long journey of women’s rights, I am reminded that the fight for equality is ongoing and that the power to shape the future lies in our hands. On this Women’s Equality Day, may we remember the sacrifices of those who came before us and recommit ourselves to using our voices to build a world where every woman is valued, protected, and free. Our democracy depends on it, and so does our faith in true liberty and justice for all.
Bella Ramos was born and raised in Northeast Ohio and earned her degree in education at Walsh University (2023) before teaching for a year. She later served as a Young Adult Volunteer at the Presbyterian Ministry at the United Nations in New York City, an experience that deepened her passion for social justice and young adult engagement. She is currently pursuing a Master of Divinity at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary, where she continues to explore the intersections of faith, service, and community. She lives at home with her 3 dogs, ChiChi, Tony, and Georgie, and her cat, Chimney.
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