At the polls, the ground is level

I volunteered at the polls on the first Tuesday of this month. I arrived at the polling place at 6 a.m. and more than 15 hours later, I walked away tired and glad.

The people who complain about our election process, saying things that are conspiratorial and untrue, or who opt out of the process because they either don’t want to be bothered or they think their input doesn’t matter, are not people who work the polls.

In a fracturing country made increasingly brittle by often unchallenged prejudices and indifference, we unite at the polls. I found the polling place to be inclusive, hospitable, safe, and life-giving — though the odor took some getting used to.

“What’s that smell?” I asked before the precinct opened.

A co-worker reminded me we were in the gym of Valdese Elementary. That smell, she said, was the sweating armpits of children at play.

No matter the fragrance of the place, when we make it to the polls, the walls that divide us are not allowed to divide anymore. When we make our way to the ballot box, the ground is level.

A woman of possible African descent stood before me and said, “We’ve worked very hard to make this day happen.”

“Yes ma’am,” I said.

I clicked the button on the computer that printed her Authorization to Vote form. And I told her what I told every single person I met on Election Day. “Thank you for voting.” I meant it with my whole heart.

Most nodded when I thanked them. Some looked at me quizzically. “You don’t need to thank me,” one man said. “It’s my job.”

Increasingly, we citizens scratch raw the differences that make us unique. Faces harden when we talk about how to care for our communities. Hate speech is normal. Accepting lies as truth; we disregard and malign those who don’t fit our increasingly narrow points of view. All of us have become a little jaded, jagged, and jaundiced; some of us profoundly so.

People may carry this social cancer into the polls, but they aren’t allowed to act it out. Inside the polling place, they are allowed to do only one thing: vote.

On the outside, candidates gather with their supporters, hand out sample ballots, and try to garner the votes of the undecided. They proudly wear their candidates and causes on their T-shirts. But these citizens are required to stand 50-feet from the door of the polling place. Poll-workers at zero-dark-thirty unwound a tape measure and carefully marked a line with chalk.

The inside of the polling place is intended to be a safe place. There are no computer streams, no talking heads on popular news shows, no blogging or vlogging. Just the sound of scratching pencils filling in bubbles next to the name or the cause that you support.

Often, there’s also the sound of old neighbors catching up and hugging necks like a bunch of distant cousins at a family reunion. These outbursts are short-lived. People in the polling place have work to do.

This fundamental work of every citizen doesn’t require much time.

I timed one man on my stopwatch — from the time he walked in, accomplished his task, and walked out. It took two-minutes, 39-seconds, and 45-whatevers of a second.

2:39:45.

He may have had to clock out of work early to get to his polling place. He may have had to drive from a job site in another state to get here. He might have had to secure childcare. He may have left behind a loved one in a distant hospital. Getting to the poll might have required sacrifice.

But the actual voting was easy, efficient, and took little time. Because under 175 people voted at our precinct on election day, nobody had to wait in line.

Another ballot in another election might be more complicated. There might be more on the ballot, more to decide, more candidates from which to choose. Filling in the bubbles might require hours of soul searching, nail biting, and whole services of prayer. Making up one’s mind might require attending town forums, meet-and-greets, reading articles, asking questions, doing research, asking around.

Voting certainly takes effort. The actual voting process, however, requires little actual time.

Thanks to the candidates who allow themselves to be placed on the ballot, willing to work for their community. Voters will hold you accountable and ideally will help you if you ask.

Thanks to the many people who protect and encourage voting.

Thanks to our neighbors who have taken the time to cast their vote, and to the citizens who have volunteered to work the polls.

Thanks to those who respect, even admire, the process. I hear it’s one of the best in the world.

How many people marched and fought to make this civic duty possible?

How many died?