(Photo Courtesy of Getty Images) “Voter casting a ballot at a polling station in Detroit on Election Day in 2022”
Conor Moyer
Connector Staff
Just days before the 2024 election, UMass Lowell students are at the center of an increasingly polarized union. A union whose fate will soon be decided by razor-thin margins. Margins that have made turnout the deciding factor and historically low youth participation more consequential than ever. As voices across campus confront the weight of their collective voice, many grapple with how they must wield it and whether to at all.
“We are the largest population that could influence what the election could look like, but because many are just choosing not to vote, it’s become a self-fulfilling prophecy,” says sophomore Luke Van Horn. Political apathy among fellow students seems all too familiar for him, “It’s all over the spectrum,” he observes, “I know people that aren’t even going out to vote, and some people that it’s all they’re talking about.”
For many students, voting apathy stems from living in a reliably blue state, where casting a ballot can feel inconsequential. But for Van Horn, it’s a duty: “I think Kamala Harris is gonna win the state no matter what, and that’s just the way it is. But I’m gonna vote anyway because I should.”
Cameron Evans, a freshman, embodies the growing sentiment of cautious participation. “I’ve been a little bit apathetic after the last election,” he admits. “I’m still gonna go out and vote, but I want to put it off and not stress about it too much.” Being active politically can translate to further stress for many already busy students, leading to apathy. “I know for a fact that my vote feels like it holds less weight, but I’m still gonna vote anyway.” He smiles and adds, “And they have free stickers.”
Senior Thomas McAndrews brings a more direct assessment to the conversation. While “hopeful-ish” about how the election will play out, he doesn’t see that as the dominant sentiment amongst his peers. Most of his peers seem fearful to him, apprehensive about the coming election’s unknown outcome and its consequences. McAndrews goes on to say that in such a razor-thin election, those who choose not to make their voice heard are “privileged” and “non-participatory” in the defining moments of our republic.
As Election Day draws near, the sentiments on campus reflect a mix of determination, hesitation, and frustration. Students like Van Horn, Evans, and McAndrews are all navigating the tension between apathy and action, caught between the pressure to participate, the stresses of politics, and the lingering doubts about the impact of their votes in a historically blue state. Yet, their voting decisions are recognitions of the stakes involved—that every single vote carries the weight of responsibility in this polarized moment. They recognize that by participating, they claim a voice in the outcome, however small. Whether driven by a sense of duty, cautious hope, or simple curiosity, these students embody a generation wrestling with the power they hold. A generation whose future depends on their willingness to engage and on understanding the consequences that could come with their silence.
