I had my election training on Monday. It started at twelve and I showed up around 11:45, so I had a little time to kill before. I sat in the lobby area and was immediately pulled into a conversation with a semi-elderly woman named Martha. She was pretty hard of hearing so there were a lot of whats and borderline shouting. She had only been an election judge once before, in the previous June primary. She had relatives in Michigan and we spent time pointing out where on a map on my phone. She hadn't brought hers in with her (an old clamshell) and talked at length about how it wouldn't pair up with her new car. I thought about going to help her after the training but they called us in and I immediately forgot it until just now.
There were four tables in the classroom, each with four chairs around them. There were so few of us we didn't fill them all. There were four trainers in the space, standing around expectingly. A screen at the front of the room displayed a five foot square of someone's computer sign-in page. Predictably, the thing started with a brief introduction of our trainers: Vinnie, Donna, James and Ayumbe (no idea on the spelling.) Then Donna, the primary trainer (I think) proceeded to type in her password, key by key, on the computer connected to the screen. When she finally signed in, a video played about the first part of the Election Day process, which is to set up the Monday night before.
After the video, a trainer was assigned to each table and began taking us around the room to introduce various aspects of the set-up. Our trainer was Vinnie, a short pepper-haired dude with a penchant for sprinkling jokes into his instruction. I liked Vinnie. Vinnie proceeded to show us the color coded bags that contained the basic supplies (signs and pens and such) and introduced us to the check-in paperwork, which would become a ubiquitous part of the entire process. Everything was to be logged and tracked. This put me at ease. I find paperwork soothing. Always a trail, a record to follow.
We learned how to build the rickety privacy shielded voting booths, reminiscent of my years spent setting up wedding tables in Baltimore. Vinnie demonstrated how to unload the top heavy scanning machines that looked disconcertingly like the garbage bins you wheel to the end of your driveway. We learned how to delicately tear the ballot from the pad and how to mark them as "SPOILED" when you ripped it or a voter marked the ballot wrong. We set up a ancient iPad-esque device that kept all the voter information and connected to a printer that churned out little receipts for the ballots. Since I was under 60, I spent a great deal of time helping explain things to my table, especially Martha, who was having a great deal of trouble and getting more frustrated and confused with each click, tab and alert.
At some point, we took a ten-minute break. In a massive lobby area I scarfed vegan mac and cheese while two dudes talked business. Their conversation was echoey and full of jargon.
Over the whole four hours I grew to dislike Donna. She taught in the awkward "finish my sentence" style, the kind that makes students skiddish and presenters increasingly annoyed. It's was especially irksome for me as I was near the front, a constant target for her dead bureaucratic eyes and just-a-little-too-loud voice. The final section about closing the polls was rushed due to our questions running us over time and I could feel Martha reaching the peak of her panic. I tried consoling her a few times but Donna would hawk over me and increase her volume whenever I started leaning Martha's way. I'm surprised she didn't say, "Michael, do you have something to share with the rest of the class?"
But all in all, it was a delightful experience. Near the end Vinnie asked me if I was sure I hadn't done this before and talked to me about potentially being a Chief Judge next year. That was certainly an ego booster. It left me feeling light and excited for November to roll around...and inspired to prep for my Early Voter training later this month.
Today's Workout
Running: 2.3 miles
DAREBEE: Day 37 from 90 Days of Action
There were four tables in the classroom, each with four chairs around them. There were so few of us we didn't fill them all. There were four trainers in the space, standing around expectingly. A screen at the front of the room displayed a five foot square of someone's computer sign-in page. Predictably, the thing started with a brief introduction of our trainers: Vinnie, Donna, James and Ayumbe (no idea on the spelling.) Then Donna, the primary trainer (I think) proceeded to type in her password, key by key, on the computer connected to the screen. When she finally signed in, a video played about the first part of the Election Day process, which is to set up the Monday night before.
After the video, a trainer was assigned to each table and began taking us around the room to introduce various aspects of the set-up. Our trainer was Vinnie, a short pepper-haired dude with a penchant for sprinkling jokes into his instruction. I liked Vinnie. Vinnie proceeded to show us the color coded bags that contained the basic supplies (signs and pens and such) and introduced us to the check-in paperwork, which would become a ubiquitous part of the entire process. Everything was to be logged and tracked. This put me at ease. I find paperwork soothing. Always a trail, a record to follow.
We learned how to build the rickety privacy shielded voting booths, reminiscent of my years spent setting up wedding tables in Baltimore. Vinnie demonstrated how to unload the top heavy scanning machines that looked disconcertingly like the garbage bins you wheel to the end of your driveway. We learned how to delicately tear the ballot from the pad and how to mark them as "SPOILED" when you ripped it or a voter marked the ballot wrong. We set up a ancient iPad-esque device that kept all the voter information and connected to a printer that churned out little receipts for the ballots. Since I was under 60, I spent a great deal of time helping explain things to my table, especially Martha, who was having a great deal of trouble and getting more frustrated and confused with each click, tab and alert.
At some point, we took a ten-minute break. In a massive lobby area I scarfed vegan mac and cheese while two dudes talked business. Their conversation was echoey and full of jargon.
Over the whole four hours I grew to dislike Donna. She taught in the awkward "finish my sentence" style, the kind that makes students skiddish and presenters increasingly annoyed. It's was especially irksome for me as I was near the front, a constant target for her dead bureaucratic eyes and just-a-little-too-loud voice. The final section about closing the polls was rushed due to our questions running us over time and I could feel Martha reaching the peak of her panic. I tried consoling her a few times but Donna would hawk over me and increase her volume whenever I started leaning Martha's way. I'm surprised she didn't say, "Michael, do you have something to share with the rest of the class?"
But all in all, it was a delightful experience. Near the end Vinnie asked me if I was sure I hadn't done this before and talked to me about potentially being a Chief Judge next year. That was certainly an ego booster. It left me feeling light and excited for November to roll around...and inspired to prep for my Early Voter training later this month.
Today's Haiku
Desert camo pants
with red hole-ridden hoodie
Gurl, wut chu wearin'?
with red hole-ridden hoodie
Gurl, wut chu wearin'?
Today's Workout
Running: 2.3 miles
DAREBEE: Day 37 from 90 Days of Action
No comments:
Post a Comment