Have it your way.

I just got a nasty look in the lunch room. I was heating up a Lean Cuisine meal in the microwave of the staff lounge when I looked over to see a morbidly obese woman glaring at me. I could not figure out for the life of me what I had done. I didn't recognize her from any recent encounters. I said 'hello' when I walked in, I was polite and quiet, and I was quick.

As I stood there feeling her fat eyes drill a Kool-Aid man sized hole in the back of my head, I realized that it must have something to do with my lunch. It didn't smell obscene, so I figured that it was because I was heating a Lean Cuisine? I felt the need to confess that I bought the Lean Cuisine because it was on sale and that the day prior I fed my hangover with a 770 calorie Whopper with cheese in the Orlando airport. Then I began to realize that over the last few months I have made changes to what I eat and how often I work out. It has started to show and I look healthy. Fit, even.

I also thought that her look had nothing to do with me at all. For all I know, it had nothing to do with my lunch. Maybe I ran over her cat on my way to work, maybe she sat on her left labia, or nothing. Maybe that was just how she looked at people.

As I left the lounge, she said, "Enjoy your lunch." The word 'lunch' was accentuated with disdain, as if it were not really a meal. I smiled lightly and followed, "Thanks, you too." I was cordial, but I was not going to apologize for for eating a healthy lunch.

I went to vote on Tuesday and as I waited in line, I was struck by an overwhelming sense of belonging. Feeling American is something that isn't present in my daily life, even though, of course, I am an American every day. This election felt more important than the other elections in which I had voted. The outcome seemed it would determine how vested I would remian in America over the next four years; I have seriously considered leaving the country. I would not give up my citizenship. I do believe in America, but I considered taking a break from the current political climate due to the cold weather.

Standing in line to vote, staring at the man's ass in front of me, I had visions of generations before. Thoughts of people coming to America for dreams and freedom, standing in line to be registered as an American citizen, and standing in line to vote for the first time. Waiting to participate in the one of the greatest nation's oldest traditions: democracy. I was inspired.

One of my coworkers became an American citizen in January so that she could vote in this election. She spoke to me of the importance of the election and how she had been involved in the process of making change. She campaigned for various candidates and volunteered to spread the word on issues important to her. As she spoke I realized that I have taken being American for granted. Not necessarily voting or making change, but being American means that you get to take part in the process. The ends may not always seem fair or just, but in the end you know that as an American you were part of the process. You had a voice and you were able to fight for what mattered to you.

In retrospect, I neglected that fundamental right we have as Americans. Making change is not about casting a vote. Making change is about becoming part of something greater than yourself and realizing that you matter. But you matter becasue you cared enough to involve yourself. Right now, for me, that is what it means to be American.