The first time I remember receiving a genuine compliment, I was five years old. My neighbor told me I was really good at braiding hair (which I had been practicing for weeks on the heads of unsuspecting Barbie dolls). My neighbor was in no way related to me or otherwise obligated to bolster my kindergarten self-esteem. I knew that she meant what she said.

That’s the first time I remember thinking that I was really good at something. Something tangible. Something unique. Something that warranted honest compliments. I was a better-than-average braider of hair.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to realize that I’m slightly above average in a number of ways. I’m a pretty good stick-shift driver. I’m a gifted list-maker. I’m an expert orange peeler. But age has also brought with it a sense of inadequacy. There are days when I feel overwhelmingly average, when I wonder why I haven’t founded a non-profit yet or invested in the stock market. Days when I conclude that my life has no true direction. Days when I can sense my own anonymity, when I can feel my smallness, when I realize that despite my best efforts I am no more important than a speck of dust in this grand universe.

The truth of the matter is that I am exceptionally average. It’s not a statement of self-deprecation. It’s just a fact. There are seven billion people who live on this planet. To think that I am somehow above average would be to deny statistics altogether, to deny the greatness of thousands of millions of others that I will likely never meet.

I’m average. And there’s a pretty good chance you are too. You are also a speck of dust in this grand universe. That’s life. Part of being human is exercising imperfection, understanding that you can never be good at the summation of all talents, abilities, or skills. You are destined to be good at some things and bad at others. You will average out.

“Average”, however, is not to be confused with “inadequate”. Being average doesn’t make you a less gifted individual or a less productive member of society. It makes you flawed and it makes you interesting, but most importantly, it makes you human. You are one of seven billion other seemingly average souls, all of whom have strengths and weaknesses. I haven’t founded my own non-profit or invested in the stock market and my direction is lacking. But I can drive stick and make lists and peel oranges. I can braid hair. I can learn to accept the fact that there will be someone who is smarter than me or more charming than me or funnier than me. Because at the end of the day, they’re probably average too. And that’s life.

~Erin Dugan

When I was a freshman in college, I did something remarkable.

I voted.

It was 2012, a ground breaking year in American politics. It was the year of the lingering Republican primary, the year of billion dollar fundraising, the year of Clint Eastwood talking to a chair, the year of Twitter, the year of not-quite-recovered economy and the 47%. I was 18. It was my year.

Unfortunately, not all of my peers mimicked this remarkable action. In fact, only about half of those ages 18-29 voted in the 2012 election. It was one of the best years for youth voter turnout in recent history. And only half of us sent in a ballot or set aside time in our day to stop by a polling station.

That’s pathetic. And before you tell me about all of the reasons that you didn’t vote on election day, about how you didn’t know where to register, about how you had an exam the next day, about how your vote doesn’t really matter because of the electoral college, let me tell you something:

People in other countries would give up everything to enjoy the privilege that you take for granted.

And before you tell me that I’m being dramatic, that one vote doesn’t really make a difference, that people in other countries would also give up everything to enjoy freedom of speech or religion or the press or even basic modern sanitation, let me tell you something else:

You’re right. One vote by itself doesn’t make a difference, and people in other countries do admire the lives of ordinary Americans. But many votes do make a difference. And part of the reason that we are blessed with clean water and air, with diversity and higher education, with research and technology, with flushing toilets and Reddit, is because of our strong, stable, representative government.

This representative government was not made on its own. It was not intended to function independently. It needs all of the votes that it can get, but in particular, it needs the votes of those of us with new ideas, those of us who are going to inherit this country and this earth. We must take it upon ourselves to participate. We must take it upon ourselves to register online, to obtain an absentee ballot, to make a trip to the polls. We must take it upon ourselves to demand representation, to elect officials that share our concerns about student debt, women’s health, gay marriage, the economy, and national security.

So for those of you who didn’t vote in 2012, I urge you to visit the polls on Tuesday. Because when it comes down to it, voting is a responsibility. Voting is a great way for our generation to ensure that our voice is heard. And finally, voting is remarkable. And shouldn’t we all strive to do something remarkable every 2 years or so?