Earlier this summer, after I cast my vote in my city’s primary mayoral election, I spent my walk home dead set on achieving one goal. I’d researched the candidates, queued in line for about 45 minutes, and asked the poll site volunteers for clarification on how to properly fill out my ballot an embarrassing number of times. Now…I was dedicated to capturing the perfect selfie to show off my well-earned “I Voted” sticker. This is an ostensibly narcissistic goal, but how could the desire be helped?! All day, I’d seen similar photos all over the Instagram Stories of the celebrities, coworkers, and close friends I follow. Sometimes the photos were captured from an artsy low angle with crisp green foliage providing the perfect backdrop for their show of civic participation. The more earnest people I follow would photograph themselves holding the sticker with a full, toothy smile on their face, and maybe pair the picture with a block of text detailing the ease of their voting experience. I’d also come across plenty of very chic and slightly more subtle “hands only” photos—the ones that let the sticker and their near-perfect manicures alone do the talking. The question that each photo posed was clear: I’ve done my part today; have you?
So, once I had done my part, I needed to shout it from the rooftops! My followers needed to know that I, too, am a good person and had performed my duty, lest anyone think I’d leave the fate of my beloved city’s leadership up to chance! That’s why, after fumbling about to find the perfect lighting and taking about 10 to 15 photos (I like to have options), I posted proof of my patriotism, and it was only slightly less satisfying than doing the actual voting. Then came my shame-filled comedown. Was it performative of me to feel so committed to showboating my voting activity? Why had I become so obsessed with ensuring that everyone knew I’d hit the polls? So obsessed that when I spotted rogue “I Voted” stickers that’d been accidentally dropped on the ground outside my polling center, I was hit with a pang of honest pity: Imagine being the poor soul who lost the evidence that they even showed up! How will they let everyone know that they’re engaged citizens committed to bettering their local government?
None of this is to say that I wouldn’t still vote in a world where I couldn’t post about it. I was just slightly unsettled by the realization that my pursuit to take advantage of the “I Voted” photo op was motivated by peer pressure and the promise of online validation. But is that so wrong?
It’s fulfilling to be reminded that your participation counts toward something larger, even if that reminder’s a well-lit selfie posted by your favorite sitcom actor or a friend of a friend from work. Janet Boudreau, owner of an election supply business, developed one of the first versions of the now-coveted “I Voted” sticker in 1988, over 20 years before Instagram was even an idea. She intended for the sticker to help increase awareness about when elections were happening—before social media and a 24-hour news cycle made these events nearly impossible to miss. Now that almost everyone has a digital platform (somewhere to broadcast their voting activities and possibly receive some affirming DMs for doing so), the sticker has become more than a way to help word spread. It’s now a nonpartisan, and thus largely noncontroversial, badge of honor that can be shown off widely—not just a conversation starter you wear around the office until it gradually peels off.
It’s refreshing that on Election Day online, the overwhelming pressure we’re faced with is to get up and do something productive—even if it’s done in the hopes of getting fleeting satisfaction from a few Likes on an Instagram Story. We get to see a host of well-intentioned and, sure, maybe a bit self-indulgent selfies from people proud of the small part they’ve played in building out their community’s future. Selfies that’ll surely encourage and remind people toeing the line about whether or not they have the energy to vote, that it’s a responsibility they need to see through.
My Election Day activity has never been primarily motivated by the intent to grab a post-poll selfie. But I understand the satisfaction and validation that there is to be gained from that. And there’s no doubt a large sector of the registered voter population that’s come up with their own last-minute excuses to forgo voting—maybe they’ll be tired after work or the line at the polling site looks just a bit too long. Maybe those are the people who really need to see those selfies and allow them to become the last push they get to go out there and do their part.
As ubiquitous as this specific genre of selfie has become, and while I remain ashamed by my mission to grab a flattering version of my own, these photos aren’t only a net positive—they’re a staple necessity in our modern political ecosystem! The sticker selfie could be as effective as phone banking and door-to-door knocking in mobilizing the masses to get up and get out their vote. So when I cast my vote for mayor later today, and I inevitably attempt to pose with my sticker, I absolutely hope the picture looks cute. But I also hope it provides one final shove for someone who views it to get up and go fill out a ballot. So after you’ve done your voting, take that selfie and post it with pride.
