I was the only person standing in line who wasn't white and the only one who had to show her identification twice. Some stared at me suspiciously, with an expression of mingled incredulity and discomfort, making me feel like a brutal intruder, like I didn't belong.
I can't say that I didn't care or that it didn't matter. It hurt me. But I thought of my children, of my parents, of this elderly Chinese man who was arrested and handcuffed as he was waiting for his grandsons to come out of school and I felt proud. I was proud that my right to vote for president was legitimate, something some might want to object but will never be able to take away from me. I was proud to be Korean, to be French, to just be. To voice my opinion. For me, for my family and for those who couldn't voice their own.
(you can read more about the French election here)