How being an election judge made me appreciate politics more
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I sighed heavily and gritted my teeth. I know the Election Judge policies and procedures confirm I should not say anything regarding people’s political choices, but this was different. This young man was arguing with his dad, then turned to me to ask, “Why should I vote when I don’t know anything about the candidates?” I’d quietly observed him when he walked in the door with his dad, mouthing every single word of a terrible mumble rap song.
I thought to myself, “If you had time to learn the lyrics to that song, then you have time to learn the basics of the mayoral candidates.” I shook my head and guided his father over to a booth so he could vote, while his son stood off to the side, impatiently.
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Being an Election Judge in the last three elections has made me appreciate voting in a way that’s different than just mailing in my ballot and going about my day. Initially I did it because it seemed like an easy way to make $200 to $365 for a day of standing around. It turned out to be more involved and challenging than I suspected, so I’ve done it again and again. Whether you love talking about politics or run screaming from the room when someone brings it up, I think it’s a good idea for everyone to try it at least once. Here’s why.
Redirect your own suspicions about voting conspiracies. I’ve worked with one woman in the past three elections who is sincerely convinced that voter fraud is common. Regardless of proven results that non-citizens account for between 0.0003% and 0.001% of all votes cast, she still turns into the Federal Bureau of Investigation with every single signature and sometimes makes voters rewrite it just so it looks like the exact signature on their voters’ registration card. Is it annoying? Absolutely. But is she well within her right to question a signature that’s too off the mark? Sure. Plus, I don’t want to sit in a chair from 6 a.m. to 7 p.m. double-checking every signature. She gets to scratch her conspiracy itch and I avoid the most boring job as an Election Judge.
Be there to assist those in need, especially first-timers. I took Spanish for eight years, from elementary school to college. At one point, it was my minor before I changed it to Criminal Justice. And I have absolutely no patience for someone getting mad at another person for speaking in broken English. In a handful of occasions in which U.S. citizens would’ve normally been turned away because they simply didn’t understand how the voting process worked, I dusted off my Spanish memory bank to help. One older gentleman was near tears trying to figure out what to do with his ballot. With the help of the Election Central office to confirm he could legally vote, my broken Spanish and his broken English, he got it done and thanked me profusely. I was proud to assist him in his first time voting as a United States citizen.
Recommended Read: “Handling the language barrier between residents ~ Why I won't stop sending emails in English, Spanish and Amharic”
Your presence may be enough to make some people re-evaluate not voting. Revisiting the young man who loudly complained that “black people always vote for Democrats, and I’m not gonna do it so I’m not voting,” it took every last drop of patience in me not to stand on a soapbox and lecture him about the Voting Rights Act of 1965. I was already wearing a T-shirt that spelled out “Why I Vote” in photographs of the Civil Rights Movement. I tapped the name tag I was wearing; it said “Republican” on it. His Democratic argument was falling flat. He looked from my name tag to my eyes, and then he broke eye contact altogether.
Watching a blue-eyed, blonde teen leaning over her mother’s shoulder and whining about how she was too young to vote made me even more flustered. I looked from her complaining to her mother and back to him. Without saying a word, he knew exactly what I was thinking. I hope in that moment he realized why his presence alone (and being of age) mattered. When his father finished voting, he walked over and hissed to his son, “I raised you better than this. You could’ve at least tried” and they walked off. He mumbled something about “people being all judgmental” and stormed out of the polling place. I look for him to return and vote every single election since then. I hope one day he does.
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Why I agreed to be a Republican Election Judge. I am a registered Democrat — and vote Democrat 98% of the time. However, I have voted for a couple of Republicans in prior midterm elections, one in particular who oddly always seemed to vote in favor of the causes I supported most in Illinois. I have also voted for Green Party candidates, as well as Independent candidates. My neighborhood polling places often struggle to find Republican Election Judges because Chicago is a predominantly blue city. (Downstate Illinois is another story entirely.) My social media makes it more than clear that I couldn’t be more anti-Trump if I tried. However, I am fair to everyone who comes in to vote. I don’t have to respect your voting choices, but I do have to respect your right to vote. As much as I don’t agree with Trump’s supporters (or the GOP), I would much rather people vote in opposition to me than to sit at home, grumbling on the couch doing absolutely nothing. Additionally, unless a voter needs assistance (which always requires one Republican Election Judge and one Democrat Election Judge) at a voting booth, I don’t know how anybody votes anyway.
Recommended Read: “Know the end goal first before joining any activism group ~ When marching and protesting don’t add up to results”
Get to know your neighbors and your neighborhood. I think sites such as NextDoor are just a creative way to unite busybody neighbors. I can’t deal with people complaining about dog poop bags and other petty gripes. But you couldn’t even measure the big grin on my face when I see my own neighbors come in, hugging me and shaking my hand before they get ready to vote. I’m more excited to see them at a voting booth than I am when I’m getting my mail. As tired as I am to be at a polling place by 5 a.m. (I’m also a Key Judge, so I also unlock the door and the supplies), it’s satisfying to see my neighbors being active.
Of course everyone isn’t a ray of sunshine. I deal with a lot of personalities, some of which are openly hostile about writing down their mailing addresses to verify their voter registration. Some are frustrated that they’re going to miss their trains because they thought they could run in at the last minute and still get to work on time. But at least 90% are pleasant people who just want to be able to contribute to the process. Alder(wo)men have stopped by to bring free pizza, donuts, candy and snacks. Voters thank our election teams all the time as they leave. And even after a 12-hour day, not including the next two to three hours of taking apart machines and dropping the official voter tape off at an election station, it’s well worth it.
Did you enjoy this post? You’re also welcome to check out my Substack columns “Black Girl In a Doggone World,” “BlackTechLogy,” “Homegrown Tales,” “I Do See Color,” “One Black Woman’s Vote” and “Window Shopping” too. Subscribe to this newsletter for the weekly posts every Wednesday. Thanks for reading!