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I had hoped to write this post yesterday, but yesterday I was a useless bag of bones. As I had suspected, I am no longer able to work a 14-hour day then bounce back with cheerful energy the following day. Tuesday I did something I've wanted to do since the first time I cast a vote: I donned a pin identifying me as an official poll worker and spent the day helping voters carry out their democratic duties. And even though some of my candidates won and some did not win, I left the polling place more hopeful about the future of our democracy than I have been for some time.
If you don't want to read through a whole slather of words (and just who has been slathering you with words while I've been on break?) here's the bottom line:
This election crew in Small Town was absolutely dedicated to making sure every single person who showed up had a chance to vote, and that every legitimate vote was counted correctly, and that every vote count was reported scrupulously.
And just as importantly, of the 450-plus voters for whom I checked credentials, there were exactly two persons who made a single partisan comment, and those two comments were non-threatening and non-specific.
Friends, this was not at all what I expected. I read the news, listen to radio reports frequently, and occasionally watch commentators on television through splayed fingers. I saw the balaclava-masked armed "observers" looming over the ballot boxes in Arizona. I had been horrified by the traction gained by the Big Lie concerning the 2020 election. What was the truth?
So it was an easy decision when I was contacted about being a poll worker. My flexible, mostly-retired schedule can now afford a day off so I went through pre-election training. There I asked an innocent question: Should I bring my knitting for the lulls during the day? I remembered when my mother was a poll worker in the rural township where I grew up, which had a total of (if I'm remembering correctly) 27 registered voters. She did most of her Christmas knitting on election day. The burst of laughter let me know that this isn't the case in Small Town.
I showed up at our 6:00 a.m. report time packing my lunch, snacks, and a day's worth of coffee. By then the senior members of the election team had set up the voting stations, but I opened the first sealed bags of ballots to get them ready for early voters. Then I was assigned to my spot as a Poll Pad judge, got a quick tutorial on the iPad-based ID verification system, and we were off and running.
"Every voter who comes in and wants to vote will vote," we were told. If there's a problem with the registration, such a name change from the driver's license to the voter registration because of marriage, or someone is voting in the wrong location, the voter would need to fill out a provisional ballot to be counted separately. This process has the side advantage of cleaning up voter rolls--a change of address for the next election is filled out on the spot.
Every single voter had to be identified with photo ID, and every single voter had to match name and address to the registration rolls before being given a ballot and casting a vote.
When the polls opened at 7 a.m. voters came in like the tide, snaking through the crowd control stanchions like cranky travelers working their way to the ticket counter. The room was packed. But by 7:27 a.m. (I checked my watch) every one of those persons had been verified and moved on to voting. For the rest of the day, although traffic was steady, we never had more than a dozen or so persons in line and almost everyone moved immediately to a verification clerk. Not one person I verified was peevish or nasty.
By the time I left the polling place at 8 p.m. I was ready to be done, but I also had a new perspective on our elections. Here are my take-aways from a day on the election frontlines:
1. People are interesting, and a driver's license is a great ice-breaker. I complimented one man's flowing beard and handlebar mustache and he pulled out his business card--as Santa Claus! Santa votes in Small Town!
2. Voters want their votes to count. Provisional ballots take slightly longer than regular ballots, but I didn't see anyone walk away from the process. (I don't guarantee this across the whole election, only what was observable from my piece of the process, but I'm fairly confident this statement holds.)
3. Election workers at our polling place are top-notch. Every vote was crucial to us, and we all wanted to be impartial irrespective of our personal views.
4. Democracy is important, and we may yet be able to save it.
Also, I am now old and creaky and my wonky hip and knees do not like long days. But I'll be back for the next election if I'm invited. This is important work, and I want to be part of it.
