My father used to say, “Don’t tell me you love me, show me you love me.” Those words weighed on me then like an anchor, holding me down, steady, in the rough tides of my youth. Now, years later, I feel that weight pressing on my chest, pounding beneath the surface, shaping my every breath. Today, I take his wisdom to heart and lift it to the ballot box. My vote is for you, my daughter, for your rights in this world, both for today and for the life that stretches out before you.
I stand in the voting line, my voice poised in ink, a promise of protection, an offering to the future. I don’t tell you I love you today. No, today, I show you.
RELATED: It’s Time to Get on the Right Side of History
As I cast my vote, I think of the journey you have before you. Being born a girl, a Black girl, in this country, is to step into a legacy, a history embroidered with both beauty and scars. You are not just my daughter; you are the daughter of every woman who fought so you could dream without ceilings, a daughter of generations whose backs carried dreams like burdens. Each vote, each hard-won inch of freedom, is woven into your story.
I vote today so that your rights are protected — not as a token, not as a hollow promise, but as a safeguard, a shield against the storms that may come. I vote so that you might one day have a world that respects the sanctity of your body, that recognizes it as yours and yours alone. I vote so that no one will ever take away your right to decide for yourself, to protect what is sacred within you. These rights, as old as your grandmother’s wisdom and as fresh as the breath you took this morning, are the foundation on which you will stand.
My job, my duty, is to cast this vote, so that each of those burdens is lighter.
I vote for your future because you deserve opportunities carved not by compromise but by bold and open possibility. I vote so that the doors of learning swing open wide for you, so that your dreams find room to grow, unshackled by narrow minds and narrower budgets. I vote so that you will be seen in every classroom and every boardroom, not just as a seat-filler but as a woman of color whose intellect and spirit are irreplaceable. I vote to lay a road before you where no salary slip or title can undermine your worth.
As I look at your small hands today, fingers sticky from crayons and curiosity, I see a lifetime ahead where you will paint your own skies. But I know this world. I know how heavy it can get, how it presses its weight on women, how it tests and tries and sometimes denies. I know, too, that you will carry burdens I cannot predict. My job, my duty, is to cast this vote, so that each of those burdens is lighter, so that you are met with allies and advocates who will fight for your dignity and safety. I vote so that leaders who look like you will one day sit at the highest tables, so that your voice is not just a whisper but a thunder.
Kamala Harris is on the ballot. A woman who has stood in rooms that tried to close their doors to her, whose face mirrors both your strength and your complexity. She knows the weight you will carry. She understands the tightrope of being a woman of color in spaces not built to hold her voice. I vote for her because I know she will honor you, see you, uplift you. Not with empty words, but with actions as solid as the earth, as steady as the beating of your heart against mine.
I vote, too, because the world you inherit will bear the scars of a changing climate, of a planet ravaged by decisions made long before you took your first breath. I vote to protect your future, to preserve a world where the waters do not rise too high, where the air you breathe does not choke the dreams you carry. You deserve a world that nurtures life, that gives and does not only take. My love for you is ferocious, and I cannot bear the thought of you growing up in a world unkind, unhealed, unprotected.
As your father, I can only lay stones along your path, stones I hope will protect and empower you.
In this act, I fold my love into paper, into a mark, into a vote. I may never have a stage, a platform to change the world for you with one sweeping hand. But I have this ballot, and it carries the weight of my hopes, of my commitment to a life where you will not be reduced to statistics, to quotas, to burdens or expectations. You are a child of possibility, and it is my duty to clear the path ahead, to make space for the extraordinary woman you will become.
The lifecycle of a woman, especially a woman of color, is filled with battles and beauty, with grace and grit. As your father, I can only lay stones along your path, stones I hope will protect and empower you. You will grow into the kind of woman who knows her worth, who speaks her truth with power, who stands tall because she carries the strength of all those who came before her.
RELATED: How Will Project 2025 Affect Black America?
My vote today is just one ripple, a small gesture in a vast sea of resistance and resilience. But, my daughter, remember this: each ripple finds another, and together, they build waves. Waves of change, waves of justice, waves that push back against the tides of history that have threatened to drown us. My vote is my love letter to you, one that promises to stand up, to fight, to make room for your light to shine without shadow.
One day, you will grow and cast your own votes, make your own marks on this world. Until then, I am here, standing in this line, putting pen to ballot, choosing hope over fear, love over indifference, your future over convenience. Today, I do not simply say that I love you. Today, I show you.
Dr. Mustafa Ali is a thought leader, strategist, policymaker, and activist committed to justice and equity. He is the founder of Revitalization Strategies, a business focused on moving our most vulnerable communities from “surviving to thriving.” Mustafa was previously the senior vice president for the Hip Hop Caucus, a national non-profit and non-partisan organization that connects the hip-hop community to the civic process to build power and create positive change.