Uh-oh, I voted for Kamala Harris

An Evangelical voted for a Democrat. (Insert audible gasp.) 

Yes, and it’s time someone explained why that’s actually allowed. 

Wait, stop! Don’t click away yet. I want to explain myself.

But Aiden, stick to what you know. You’re literally the sports editor. If you want to get controversial just tell us you like Aaron Syverson more than Cooper Drews. Maybe your favorite NBA player is actually Luka Dončić and not Anthony Edwards.

No. I won’t do that. (And for the record I like Drews and Edwards more than either of those guys.) This year’s election matters so much. For how much tension it’s caused, the effects will certainly be felt. 

Think about how you feel when everyone’s least favorite team wins the championship. The Patriots. The Yankees. The University of Alabama. Yet no one on campus seems to want to talk about it, or even participate in it. 

In fact, this coming from the sports editor should only make you open your ears more. Anyone who knows me knows I don’t talk politics. Like ever. 

Is this the most pivotal election in American history? I’ve heard yes a lot – mainly from Elon Musk’s X (formerly Twitter). The left says Trump can’t win because he’s too similar to Hitler and Stalin. Like if the Vikings let Patrick Mahomes take the reins even though he’s so similar to Aaron Rodgers. 

The right, meanwhile, says Kamala can’t win because she’s a communist and we’ll only fall deeper into inflation. Like if the Timberwolves traded everyone away and let Josh Minott run the team.

But I’m not going to make a statement on that. I’m 19 years old. I have zero credibility to say why this is a more pivotal or tense election than 2000, for example. 

Despite the fact I never stop ranting about last year’s Vikings’ inability to run the football, voting matters to me, even if this is my first time. And it should matter to everyone else. 

Earlier today, I excitedly set my absentee ballot down on the basic, Bethel-provided coffee table that’s too low to comfortably write anything on unless you’re sitting on the floor in my living room and took a look at it. (Actually, first my suitemate took a look at it, because apparently that’s required by law.) 

I’d already decided which circle I would fill in. So why did I feel so guilty about it? 

I grew up on a farm outside Butterfield, Minnesota. If you don’t know where that is, you’re not alone. 

“Teeny-tiny town about two-and-a-half hours from here,” I always say to people. 

Rural America tends to make up a lot of the country’s conservative population. My community, which sits along Highway 60 smack dab between Mankato and Worthington, is no exception. 

Friends, relatives, church members – basically anyone with whom I’ve interacted– conform to a conservative or Republican political standing. It’s all I’ve ever known. 

Because of that, I figured that must be the right (get it?) way to vote. It gets even more complicated with the American evangelical church’s ties to conservative political thinking. 

Christians always vote red. 

That’s the sentiment I came away with when I began actually listening to political conversations, particularly during the COVID-19 pandemic and following George Floyd’s murder. 

Around that time, Donald Trump’s MAGA movement within the Republican party grew more extreme. The deeper I looked, the more I found significant issues with it. 

Before I go any further explaining my decision to stray from the evangelical cultural norm, I need to say I would never call myself a Democrat, a liberal or whatever other names you can think of for a left-leaning voter (I know there are plenty of colorful ones). I disagree with plenty of Democratic beliefs, but I could also say the same about the current Republican party. 

Again, I’m not old enough to know anything about the Republican party of old – the days of civil behavior by the McCains, the Bushs and even as far back as the Reagans of political history. But what I know about the current GOP makes me worried for America’s future as a democracy. 

Trump’s infiltration and infestation of conservative politics has made its way into the minds of too many Americans, including Christians – those called to love everyone. 

The way Trump talks about immigrants provokes alienation. It’s as if he wants those who listen to hate everyone coming across the border, even those doing so legally. 

This talk does not just apply to immigrants. He constantly demonizes the “radical left,” promoting fear and a distinguishing of the “other” in American society. This is not the way to run a country. 

In short, Trump’s attitude is not one of love or even the smallest bit of sympathy. But he’s brainwashed too many Christians into believing he is the one who will save America from the sinful liberals out to ruin the country. 

— 

January 6, 2021 – Insurrection Day — while I never supported Trump, that day cemented my disbelief in his ability to lead a nation. 

What happened that Wednesday showed me even more that Trump has no respect for what it means to be the president of a nation. For the first time in 232 years of the United States presidency, the transfer of power did not happen peacefully – something our democracy is founded on. To this day, Trump and even his running mate, J.D. Vance, refuse to admit that Trump lost the 2020 election. 

Let’s be real – nobody liked that sore loser in elementary school tag, middle school P.E. or high school football. But Trump’s sore loser behavior was celebrated by millions, and this flaunting continues to this day. 

Need I even mention Trump is a convicted felon? I can’t vote for that. 

OK, Aiden, you’ve yapped for more than 900 words about how you feel about Trump, we get it. Why did you vote for Harris, even as a Christian? 

I’ll try to make this simple: 

Yes, if I haven’t made it clear, I voted for the left. The Jordan Love, if you will.

Kamala Harris and Minnesota’s own Tim Walz demonstrate a much deeper care for the United States of America and its people. 

From every speech I’ve seen, every debate I’ve watched, every article I’ve read, the left side of this election’s ticket cares about America in a way that Trump doesn’t. 

They care about mothers in crisis, they care about those who need a home and they care about the underprivileged. They do not tell the country to be afraid of those “not from here.” (Very few of us are “from here.”)

This next bit is where I’m sure I’ll lose some people. I adored Harris’ pick of Walz as her vice president. He’s been through life as a typical citizen of the United States. He knows how to serve. 

Sure, maybe I’m influenced by the media in this. Those stories of Walz’s Mankato West football teams get me going. But even if they’re a bit dramatic, I trust him and I trust the woman who picked him as running mate more than I trust the two on the right side of the ticket – those who are supposed to be on my team. 

Kamala Harris and Tim Walz: two people who care for the American population – and I cannot emphasize this enough – as a whole. They do very little to create a sense of any “others” within the country. 

As a Christian, called to be a peacemaker and lover of all, what else can I ask for, especially in the current divisive political climate of America? 

Don’t agree with me? Go vote. Go cancel mine. Everyone should be exercising their right to do so this year. 

If for nothing else, my vote for Harris and Walz was a vote against Trump, who, on top of his primary issues, is far too old to continue to pursue the presidency. If enough other people do the same, four years without the degrading, alienating talk of Trump may re-shape the Republican party to the days of old – those glory days my grandparents always talk about. 

Then maybe I’ll side with the Vikings, as my Christian belief apparently requires.