I still remember the morning after the 2008 election when President Obama and Vice President Joe Biden claimed victory. My family and I stayed up late the night before, huddled around the screen, watching closely as the results poured in.

I was in middle school then and our townhouse was just across the street. That morning, I stepped outside, looked up at the sky, and wondered if things were the same. I was anxious walking to school that day.

Of course, this was all soon forgotten once the bell rang and the day began. Awkward 12-year-olds continued to be just that. Life went on.

Now, nearly eight years later and eight years older, I find myself nostalgic for something that’s still happening. That, of course, being this administration and the leaders I grew up with.

For those my age, we experienced our adolescent years with the voice of Obama spilling into our living rooms. From exclusively owning political views that mirror those who raised us, as the years went by, we began to discover our own. (Or not.)

At times, things got ugly. But it was okay, because we were so young, and besides, prom was tomorrow. We would talk to our friends about sound bites we’d overhear on television without realizing our opinions could be painted red or blue.

In the past eight years, we’ve grown up. And with the inevitable passing of time, we’ve entered, as they say, the real world. Along the way, some of our views may have hardened. Cynicism may have crept in. It now may be difficult to recall a time when elephants and donkeys were nothing more than animals.

I still remember grappling with the first election I was old enough to consider — wondering what it meant for the country — and being jarred at the sight of someone who looked like my brothers soon taking the Oath of Office.

Stepping outside my home that November morning, anything seemed within reach.

We don’t get to choose which leaders we grow up with, nor do we get to choose the times and circumstances in which we’re born. In fact, in many ways, we live through some of our most formative years with the decisions about our future being made for us.

This November, that changes. With our vote, we decide who our next leaders will be. With our vote, we’ll be making decisions that affect the futures of those who cannot yet decide for themselves — a great American duty and a great cycle, grounded in trust, continued. And this time, when our next president is elected, we won’t be returning to a middle school lunchroom.

As for me, years from now, the first political message I’ll remember hearing from a candidate will be one of hope, of change, of a belief that “in no other country on Earth” could his story even be possible.

Fasika Delessa is a junior management major. She can be reached at fasikadelessa@gmail.com.