The first time I went with my mom to the polls when I was in preschool, I knew I wanted to vote.

There was something intriguing about cueing in a long line to go to a computer and see choices for new rules and jobs that intrigued me. I for some reason didn’t mind waiting for almost an hour because, for some reason, it seemed to have some significance that I still didn’t quite understand. And the more I understood the vote, the…