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We Are the Ones

By Nate Morris

It was raining that morning.

Not a heavy rain, not drenching rain; a nuisance rain. It was the type of rain that fell just enough to make that air feel that gray, damp kind of cold. The kind of cold that makes it seem like the day is better spent asleep. But this day was different. This damp cold air was not sullen, it was electric. I stood outside in this buzzing air, waiting with anticipation with my student standing next to me. Today, inside the red brick building before us, he would cast the first vote of his life.