I stood with my mother behind the curtain in the Hampton Township municipal building north of Pittsburgh , watching her pull actual metal levers in an actual voting booth. It was 1976, and she was deciding between Gerald Ford and Jimmy Carter for president. I remember the way the curtain shot open with a loud SCRUNCH when she toggled the “I'm done” lever. I remember how small I felt and how big the event felt.

And, being 8 years old, I remember the sticker. They gave it to her as she left; she turned around and gave it to me.

In the intervening years, the voting sticker has become an emblem of participation and power, a little talisman of democracy. In an era of splintered opinions and a polarized populace, it is one of the few things that unite us on a day when so much divides us.…