I just got my 2010 Census form the other day. Being one of those goofy people who loves to fill out forms, especially if they involve little boxes for each individual letter, I sat in the boys’ school parking lot, waiting to pick them up, and filled it out immediately. It was so bizarre to add all of our names to the form. All six of us. It’s still so strange. But it was cool to have all of us together on one official document. We exist!
So, here’s the thing about the census. It seems like kind of a silly little document, maybe. It’s just a few short questions, and really all they’re asking for is your name, birthdate, and race. It might seem a little meaningless, and a waste of time. But anyone who’s found their great-great grandfather’s name, along with those of his wife and children, written on a census record, proving that, “HEY. WE EXIST!” knows that, well, it’s pretty amazing. It’s a proof of a real life, and can be a connection to a human being through generations. And so I filled it out with great precision, and even a bit of excitement, knowing that someday, my great-great grandchildren might be looking for me. And they’ll be able to find me. There I am, in black and white, officially on the record.
Silly? Maybe. But I think it’s pretty cool.