Random Scenes from the Front Lines of Democracy

[Zomby Woof]

A beautiful sunrise, faced off by a gleaming moon past its fullness, started my Election Day perfectly, as I stood outside the gates of South High School in Torrance, California. It was 5:45 A.M., and I was eager to begin. Once the custodian let us into the gym, I started the tasks of setting up the equipment and pouring that first cup of coffee. It was my responsibility as the NVC Director to set up the ballot scanning machine and audio voting booth for the two precincts in our charge. Each precinct had 4 volunteers, to sign in voters, hand them their ballots, and assist with any problems they may arise.

I would be the first to greet each voter, directing them to the correct color-coded table, and assisting the clerk monitoring the ballot scanner. The ballots are inked, filling circles like the Scan-Tron tests of old. The reader would determine if there were overvotes, or if the ballot was completely blank from top to bottom. A tape would explain which category was overvoted, such as governor or senator, and we would allow the voter to obtain a completely new ballot, or allow us to accept it as is, with the overvote cast out. Correct ballots quickly disappear into the yellow slot, to be dropped into the black ballot box attached on the scanner's underside.

I do not vote in either precinct. In fact, I live a fair dozen miles or so from this location, which is populated by a Republican-leaning base, with many suburban soccer parents, evangelicals, and the well-off elite who have held coveted land for many generations in the South Bay. Many are elderly and very conservative. Ethnically, the area is maybe more than half white, and maybe one-third southeast Asian, rounded out by a diverse smattering of Latin Americans, African Americans, and miscellaneous Asian and middle eastern peoples. This is the melting pot of southern California, alive and well even in the shadow of white and wealthy Palos Verdes. I call this section of Torrance "Palos Verdes Junior", and some of what I witnessed Tuesday bore this out.

The vast majority of voters were agreeable and pleasant. Quite a decent number of voters thanked us for our work, and even the occasional crank or oddball provided breaks in the long stretches of the clock. There was little time to be bored - turnout was steady from opening to closing.

One of my duties as a pollworker is to assist the disabled or elderly in need of special care. A true test of my integrity occurred when one elderly woman with poor vision, whose permanent scowl could not be softened by her considerable layers of makeup, had me mark her ballot based on her Republican voting guide. Many of the candidates were not represented on the brochure, so when I asked her which candidates she wanted to vote for, she barked loudly "All Republicans!" I admit I had a fleeting fantasy of slipping up and marking our Democrats, but alas, unlike many conservatives these days, I have a conscience and dutifully held my nose with one hand, and pressed the ink blotter with the other. I signed the book which states I assisted a voter with her ballot, and signed the ballot's backside before it descended into the black box.

Then there was the cranky woman who remarked on her way out on the multilingual signs by the door. Republicans have never been fond of the Voting Rights Act or all those pesky immigrants (even the ones they barely tolerate who tend their gardens and houses), and she just had to comment to after I thanked her for voting, "That's what America is about!" Then thinking twice, approached me closer and stated "Even though we're becoming Mexico!"

That wasn't all there was to the nasty Republican vibe to the day. The inspector of the 'Orange' precinct couldn't help but grumble and complain constantly on the lack of use of the Audio Ballot Booth (to assist the blind or others with special needs). She spitefully snapped about California "wasting my money" and how unnecessary the machine was. I goodnaturedly replied, "Hey, I had to set it up, which gave me something to do, right?" I wasn't going to be unprofessional and discuss politics with this bunch.

There were the occasional kindred spirits. My favorite was an easygoing mid-30ish woman, with a jade Buddha necklace, who approached me upon leaving, "I heard on the radio that there are Iraqis who think we're electing a new president." Sensing she was disappointed their mistaken idea was not the case, I said "Well, in a way, this election can influence or negate his power." She smiled and agreed. Ah, must have been the rare Democrat from these precincts.

8:00 P.M. arrived at long last, and as the last voter was quickly dispensed at seven minutes or so after, the task of breaking down the equipment and sorting the ballots began. All I needed to do was remove the absentee envelopes and hand them over to one of the inspectors. By 8:30, I returned my two assigned machines to City Hall, and at 9, arrived home to the happy news, which I was denied all day long, toiling for democracy - its laboratory a girl's high school basketball gym, in the bubble of Los Angeles County we call the South Bay.

[dweller]

1. for all you've done ...

:thumbsup:

dp

[Zomby Woof]

2. .