By Gary Bennett
Being an election judge, or maybe more accurately a “poll worker”, is not for the faint of heart. Don’t get me wrong, it’s tiring but great. I love to help people, and it is fascinating to watch the democratic process at work. This is about the only way I get to use my long-ago Poly Sci degree except for the occasional opinion piece in this paper.
I’m in the middle of a four-year term as an election judge, our official title, and performed those duties at a local elementary school on Primary Day, July 19, 2022.
The day is certainly long. My day began at 6 am as our team prepared the school for the polls to open at 7. The first thing I noticed was how hot it was in the gym. No one had bothered to turn on the air conditioning. I can’t blame anyone. How could they have foreseen that it might be hot in the middle of July? I’m not complaining because after we scrambled to come up with about 20 fans, we nosed the room temperature down from 80 degrees to about 78 when the polls closed at 8 pm. I can only come to the conclusion that Governor Hogan must have vetoed air conditioning when he vetoed counting mail-in ballots before Primary Day.
I wish I could say I was a volunteer, but that is not true. You may not realize that poll workers are paid. Of course, for some inexplicable reason, we are told not to expect our paychecks until September at the earliest. No one exactly knows why. I believe the state may be waiting for some of us to die. After all, our team averaged about 70 years of age. And, may God bless our two chief judges, one a democrat and one a republican. Both had been through the election wars for over 30 years now. What type of personality deficiency would cause such a condition? I asked them but got only grunts.
At least turnout was pretty light, which gave me plenty of time for observation. We only ran about 1,000 people through our polling place, and I interacted without almost all of them. I either selected and gave out the proper ballots, helped people vote while being careful to look away, or helped people scan their ballots into the mysterious ballot scanner.
About two-thirds of the voters were registered republicans. Not quite one-third were democrats. This figures. We know that democrats hate crowds and tend to vote by mail so they can vote grandma’s ballot, too. Just kidding? A small number were independents, there to vote in the school board race. The independents, 50 or so, were almost always 20-somethings. They may have had it with the two big parties. That’s what one told me.
A lot of people came with youngsters in tow. Most of them were republicans. Democrats seemed to be happier than republicans, many of which you’d have to describe as grumpy. Maybe the presence of their children had something to do with that. Many republicans were quite wary of the process, especially the vote scanner. More than one asked how I can be sure their vote was actually counted. I can’t.
I got pretty good at guessing the party affiliation of people as they walked in the door. For men, the shorter the hair, bigger the bellies, and frownier the faces meant they were republicans. For women it was a little harder. The younger the women and the tattoo-ier they were usually meant they were democrats. Nearly 100 percent of all blacks were democrats.
More folks than you might imagine made mistakes on the ballots and had to start over. They mostly voted for more candidates in a contest than they were allowed. I’m sorry to report, mistake-makers were mostly republicans. Who can blame them? The more republicans, the better, right? A couple of other folks had trouble finding their way out of the small gym. Their votes still counted.
One young man brought a blank ballot to the scanning station. That is fine, of course. I’m told some folks do that as protest. That begs the question, of course, why don’t they just stay home and save the trouble? Turns out he was confused and hadn’t even voted yet. He was a republican.
One person came in with a sample ballot to consult and was disappointed that it was not for his precinct. Another wondered where all the good candidates were. Turned out he was a democrat and wanted to vote for republicans. After voting, he changed his party affiliation, which one can do.
A few people were indignant that the touchscreen software forced them to look at the names of all people vying for the republican nomination for governor before they could vote for Dan Cox. I saw the same thing in 2020 for Donald Trump. You don’t want to be a candidate on the second page. Just ask Kelly Schulz.
One person erroneously voted for a few of the so-called Education, Not Indoctrination school board candidates and came back for a new ballot. Her exact quote was “I didn’t mean to vote for these idiots.” The most predominant voting literature carried in and consulted was the “apple” ballot supplied by the teacher’s union. Next was some literature from the firefighter’s union extolling the virtues of their preferred candidates.
People are determined to vote. One person, bless her heart, asked for info on all the candidates because she didn’t know anything about them. “I don’t want to vote for just the best names,” she said. When told we didn’t have any literature to give her and were not allowed to do so anyway, she departed and came back to vote a few hours later. One can only surmise she finally did her research which makes you wonder what rock she may have been living under all these months. Another asked me for recommendations on who to vote for, which I did not and could not provide.
As I trudged home at the end of the day at 10 pm, (yes, the polls closed at 8 but it took two hours to tear things down and get the gym back into shape) I couldn’t help but smile. As imperfect as we are, at least we all get our say. Oh, and cell phones are actually illegal in the polling place. You might as well outlaw oxygen.
