The People You Meet Working an Election

One young man stepped to the table and said he needed to register. While my colleague began the process, the young man quietly said, “I’m the first person in my family to vote.” My first thought was to be furious with his parents for creating such a civic desert in this man’s life. But that was quickly replaced by awe at the courage it must have taken for him to step out of his family’s shadow, begin a process that had to be frightening because of its newness, and become a voter. We gave the guy lots of good energy as we sent him with his receipt into the next room to pick up the very first ballot ever seen by anyone in his family.

There was the young man who showed up, determined to vote, but wasn’t registered. Minnesota has same-day registration, but you need a photo ID and one of a short list of possible documents to prove your residency (utility bill, bank statement, etc.) He didn’t have any with him, so he dashed home and brought some back. But none of them were on the approved list. Now what? The next option was to return with his roommate who, as a registered voter, could vouch for him and say, “Yes, this person lives in this district.” A few hours later the two of them showed up, the registration was successful, and the determined man was finally able to cast his ballot. It took him 3 visits, but he didn’t give up.

A middle aged couple came through, expressing frustration that they couldn’t get their 22-year-old daughter to come with them and vote. We encouraged them to not give up. “We can register her here—-it takes 5 minutes. It’s important!” To our surprise, the father returned a few hours later with the daughter. She registered, and voted for the first time.

An elderly vet entered the room, wheezing like a man about to collapse because he’d been dropped off at the wrong door and had to walk all the way through the building. He wasn’t registered, and didn’t have any of the documents needed. Our head judge wandered the parking lot until she found the volunteer who’d driven the vet here. The man, a stranger to the vet, agreed to drive the vet home to retrieve his documents. They returned a short time later, during which time the vet had recovered his breath. Our head judge set him up at a table so he could sit, and when he left he was so happy that he’d been able to vote.

Our polling place neglected to make sure the doors didn’t lock automatically at night.  (Remember that polling places are schools, or office buildings or other locations not owned by the people running elections. We sort of squat there for the day.) Unbeknownst to us, the doors had all locked at 7:30, 30 minutes before the polls closed. One woman tried door after door. She knocked on the glass doors, but we weren’t near enough to hear her. Did this woman leave? No. She stood there, in the dark and cold, until a random person walked by and she could get their attention. (We obviously then insisted that the janitor unlock the doors!)

Not every polling location works so hard to make sure that people who want to vote are able to, but we do. And when it comes to helping people vote, everyone on our team is nonpartisan. We don’t just make sure that Democrats vote, or that Republicans vote. We make sure that every person eligible to vote who wants to vote, can do so.