It’s Illinois Primary Election Day – Tuesday, March 19 – at 4 a.m. when my alarm blares. I hit snooze, needing a few minutes before an unusually early start to my morning routine.
Election Day has long felt special to me, imbued with a palpable sense of purpose and possibility – a reminder that, as President Lincoln emphasized in his Gettysburg Address, ours is a government “of the people, by the people, for the people.”
On this day, I’m not working for a candidate or political action committee, but as an election judge for the Cook County clerk, a job I have done twice previously.
During the last few weeks, I have also attended three in-person trainings, completed a multipart online course, and served as an election judge for mail-in balloting at a local care facility. I even wrote a story about the position. I am as ready as I will ever be for this 14-plus hour gig.
By 4:50 a.m., I have showered, scarfed down a piece of fruitcake, brewed a to-go mug of coffee and packed a partly frozen lunch of lamb stew.
My assigned polling location is in a church a few blocks away, but I drive in case I need my car later. Coffee and stew leak onto my pant leg – an inauspicious start to the day.
Not wanting to deprive a voter of a spot, I find street parking, arriving by the requisite 5 a.m. start time.
5 booths for voting
My fellow judges and I accessed our Voting Supply Carrier and set up five polling booths the evening prior, but the scanners, touchscreens and electronic poll books – a significant upgrade over printed voter rolls – still need to be readied for use.
The clerk’s office seeks election judges that represent the Democratic and Republican parties in equal numbers. However, Illinois does not require voters to declare a political affiliation, so this is an arbitrary distinction. Besides, previous election results suggest that in much of Cook County – Evanston especially – this balance may be virtually unachievable.
I take a “Republican” election judge credential, sublimating my deeply held convictions for a more welcoming, nonpartisan environment.
We open the polls promptly at 6 a.m. Then, we wait.
My assigned precinct shares a room with another of the ward’s precincts, which is set up along the opposing wall.
This is us
Our group gets to know each other, chatting about sports, home-brewing, American history and other topics. Imagine The Breakfast Club, if that movie were not about delinquent students but an eclectic mix of civic-minded people, middle age and older, trapped in a room under fluorescent lighting. This is us.
We help a handful of voters vote before 7 a.m. More arrive around 8 a.m., presumably on their way to 9-to-5 jobs.
Amid lulls, I complete New York Times games like the mini crossword, full crossword, Wordle, Connections and Spelling Bee, achieving “Queen Bee” status. It is not yet 9:30 a.m. This will be a long day.
A team of four judges feels overstaffed. The neighboring precinct more so. For much of the morning, their group had only issued a single ballot. One.
The disparity could be attributable to numerous factors: a small territory of four city blocks, fewer registered voters, more disaffected residents or perhaps their precinct disproportionately cast ballots by mail or during early voting. Who knows?
Plus, primary elections are traditionally low turnout affairs – an unfortunate consequence of apathy, cynicism and general misunderstanding about our political system.
When voters enter the room, they reach the other precinct’s check-in table first. Invariably, they are directed our way. Some of their judges seem to take this as a personal affront, audibly cheering when a voter is registered in their precinct, and jeering when they are from ours.
I respond with friendly taunting. If having more in-person voters is the goal, our precinct is winning.
Inexplicably, they also have an ant problem. We do not.
I take a quick break and find a parking citation on my windshield – it is street cleaning day. It must be my lucky day, because it is a warning, not a $75 ticket. Whew!
I feared that the Yankees’ cap would make me a target for gratuitous insults. Surprisingly, it sparks positive interactions with several other native New Yorkers. So much for Cubs’ country.
As the day progresses, the intra-precinct competition intensifies. Their “we wish you were voting with us” comments even cause one voter concern that voter activity is not more equitably distributed.
The vibe is akin to a team challenge on a cooking show in which contestants vie for more customers.
Of course, that is not how voting works – one registers at their legal residence, not in the precinct with the most engaging poll workers.
That said, the manufactured rivalry helps pass the time.
At one point, I look up to see a poll worker wheeling a carriage-bound baby around while its mother votes. I shake my head and chuckle. Their precinct offers day care!
Rarely do the queues for checking in or using our two touchscreen devices last more than a few minutes.
Many people express their gratitude for our service, some assuming we are volunteers.
Around 4 or 5 p.m., activity seems to peak. Our crew has now developed a comfortable synergy, handling our clerical duties seamlessly.
Parents arrive with their school-age children, introducing them to the electoral process – a heartwarming sight.
Whenever a first-time voter is announced, everyone in the room applauds.
75 years of voting
An elderly gentleman, 98 years young, shakily enters, aided by a cane. He has been voting for 75 years and he beams with pride after inserting his ballot into the scanner. I give him a fist bump as he leaves.
I feel a bit of a rush as the pace quickens and the end of our workday approaches.
There is a final spurt of foot traffic close to 6 that tapers off before 7 p.m.
I flip to the part of my election Judge manual that outlines shutdown procedures. A final voter casts a ballot. The polls are closed. Our mission-focused team kicks into a higher gear. I begin to disassemble voting booths.
Readouts of the day’s results are printed and signed, the ballot counts are reconciled and extension cords, voter activation cards, pens and other materials are packed away.
In total, our precinct serviced 225 in-person Election Day voters.
One task remains: the precinct’s designated polling place technician and I need to take the ballots and other auditable materials to the Civic Center. We appear to be among the first to arrive, and the checkout process is a breeze.
By 8 p.m., I am home, thankful to have forged new connections and proud of my contribution to the democratic process. I enjoy a good night’s rest.
Love this. Many echoes in my own experience at Dawes School polling place. We too had a bit of a competition with our sibling precinct.
As one of the ant-killers/”day care providers” across the room, you described the day perfectly! It was exhausting, but fulfilling, and a tad Breakfast Club-like!