Sunday was a short
work day; noon set up with polls open 1pm-5pm plus 30 minutes for the close out
checklist. The Souls to the Polls event crew set up in front of the
building as I arrived so I stopped by for quick introductions. They insisted
on giving a chicken dinner to every worker and I thanked them.
Rain was forecast so I had requested a canopy from the BOE to help keep curbside workers and paperwork dry. A canopy had indeed been delivered Saturday afternoon, safely cocooned in its compact carrying case. Sunday it was still sitting in the corner of the voting room, taunting me. As I booted up computers and voting machines, the phone rang. It was Tim asking if the canopy had been delivered. I told him yes, but that it was not set up. He said he would send someone to set it up and I thanked him. About 45 minutes later 2 IT techs showed up, Clint and John. I thanked them profusely and asked them to please set up the canopy in the grass next to the parking spaces reserved for curbside voting. A few minutes later I looked out the window to see them erecting the canopy on the hill next to the steps, rendering it useless. I quickly ran outside to clarify the best location for the canopy but John interrupted me to mansplain why the canopy was being set up on the hillside. I tried to appeal to him with rational logic but he interrupted again, ending the conversation with “Tim said so.” My blood pressure spiked and I quickly called the BOE office to speak with Tim but he did not answer, perhaps because John speed dialed him first. It took every ounce of self control I could muster not to curse or cause a scene. Defeated and frustrated, I returned to the voting room.
Tina said she had a migraine but offered to work curbside until Mia arrived, then left early. To keep ballots dry, I asked them to keep their clipboards in a large plastic bag and to use my golf umbrella for extra protection. They insisted they didn’t need the umbrella as they placed clipboards inside their rain jackets. When a ballot got wet we let it air dry before running it through the scanner. Curbside activity was slow so Mia spent much of the afternoon standing under the canopy on the hillside. I floated the idea of moving the canopy to level ground so she could sit down in my folding beach chair but she said she preferred to stand on the hillside. I thought she was behaving like a defiant, stubborn mountain goat but resisted arguing with her. Whatever. Mid afternoon Tim and Clint showed up to move the canopy. I thanked them for offering and told them Mia liked it where it was so no need to bother. Tim said he agreed with me it made more sense to put the canopy next to the curbside parking spaces. As much as I appreciated his attempt to salvage the situation, I felt it more important to appease Mia at that moment. Tim likely didn’t understand and I didn’t bother trying to explain. I didn’t care about the canopy anymore, or the rain, or much of anything. I just wanted the polls to close so I could go home. And I wanted Mia not to hate me.
Mia and I met downtown in the BOE office a few weeks earlier, both hired to help with data entry. After brief introductions we rarely spoke though I liked her as a co-worker; had no reason not to. She was quiet (unlike Karen) and stayed busy like me. When I learned Mia would be working with me during early voting, I was thrilled. I considered her a familiar face, so to speak, even though I had no idea what her face looked like under her mask. Unfortunately our cordial and socially distanced office relationship soured during early voting. Mia started off energetic, our curbside MVP. She didn’t complain though I could tell her enthusiasm and energy had diminished. That was true for all of us.
In the hustle and bustle of the first few chaotic days, I surely offended some with terse instructions. I tried to be polite and respectful, said please and thank you, yet I could have been gentler, kinder, warmer. I had every intention of being a compassionate and caring lead. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, right? Within minutes of meeting the team Lois and I quickly determined staff assignments so everyone could begin working and open the polls on time. There wasn’t time for ice breakers, team building, or 360 degree feedback. The first day was a war zone, like MASH triage. There was chaos, then a semblance of order, followed by adjustments, and eventually a rhythm developed. Some of us bonded but not everyone. Mia and I definitely did not.
I wanted to tell
Mia how much I admired her for working so hard while also a college student,
how I did the same when I was younger. I wanted to listen to her and others
more, and to talk less. I wanted to be a better lead so every woman on the team
felt supported and respected and appreciated instead of tired like I felt.
Rain was forecast so I had requested a canopy from the BOE to help keep curbside workers and paperwork dry. A canopy had indeed been delivered Saturday afternoon, safely cocooned in its compact carrying case. Sunday it was still sitting in the corner of the voting room, taunting me. As I booted up computers and voting machines, the phone rang. It was Tim asking if the canopy had been delivered. I told him yes, but that it was not set up. He said he would send someone to set it up and I thanked him. About 45 minutes later 2 IT techs showed up, Clint and John. I thanked them profusely and asked them to please set up the canopy in the grass next to the parking spaces reserved for curbside voting. A few minutes later I looked out the window to see them erecting the canopy on the hill next to the steps, rendering it useless. I quickly ran outside to clarify the best location for the canopy but John interrupted me to mansplain why the canopy was being set up on the hillside. I tried to appeal to him with rational logic but he interrupted again, ending the conversation with “Tim said so.” My blood pressure spiked and I quickly called the BOE office to speak with Tim but he did not answer, perhaps because John speed dialed him first. It took every ounce of self control I could muster not to curse or cause a scene. Defeated and frustrated, I returned to the voting room.
Tina said she had a migraine but offered to work curbside until Mia arrived, then left early. To keep ballots dry, I asked them to keep their clipboards in a large plastic bag and to use my golf umbrella for extra protection. They insisted they didn’t need the umbrella as they placed clipboards inside their rain jackets. When a ballot got wet we let it air dry before running it through the scanner. Curbside activity was slow so Mia spent much of the afternoon standing under the canopy on the hillside. I floated the idea of moving the canopy to level ground so she could sit down in my folding beach chair but she said she preferred to stand on the hillside. I thought she was behaving like a defiant, stubborn mountain goat but resisted arguing with her. Whatever. Mid afternoon Tim and Clint showed up to move the canopy. I thanked them for offering and told them Mia liked it where it was so no need to bother. Tim said he agreed with me it made more sense to put the canopy next to the curbside parking spaces. As much as I appreciated his attempt to salvage the situation, I felt it more important to appease Mia at that moment. Tim likely didn’t understand and I didn’t bother trying to explain. I didn’t care about the canopy anymore, or the rain, or much of anything. I just wanted the polls to close so I could go home. And I wanted Mia not to hate me.
Mia and I met downtown in the BOE office a few weeks earlier, both hired to help with data entry. After brief introductions we rarely spoke though I liked her as a co-worker; had no reason not to. She was quiet (unlike Karen) and stayed busy like me. When I learned Mia would be working with me during early voting, I was thrilled. I considered her a familiar face, so to speak, even though I had no idea what her face looked like under her mask. Unfortunately our cordial and socially distanced office relationship soured during early voting. Mia started off energetic, our curbside MVP. She didn’t complain though I could tell her enthusiasm and energy had diminished. That was true for all of us.
In the hustle and bustle of the first few chaotic days, I surely offended some with terse instructions. I tried to be polite and respectful, said please and thank you, yet I could have been gentler, kinder, warmer. I had every intention of being a compassionate and caring lead. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, right? Within minutes of meeting the team Lois and I quickly determined staff assignments so everyone could begin working and open the polls on time. There wasn’t time for ice breakers, team building, or 360 degree feedback. The first day was a war zone, like MASH triage. There was chaos, then a semblance of order, followed by adjustments, and eventually a rhythm developed. Some of us bonded but not everyone. Mia and I definitely did not.
In preparation for Sunday’s event, Tim had instructed us to schedule all available staff to avoid unnecessary wait times for voters. Lois and her afternoon team had worked Saturday so none of them wanted to work Sunday too, including Lois. My skeleton crew managed well under the circumstances. Unfortunately the weather dampened voter turnout; only 74 ballots were cast. The rain and lack of voters was more than a bit depressing. The music was nice though. I had expected gospel but was pleasantly surprised to hear a mix of popular songs by black artists from the 60s and 70s.
Because of the canopy debacle and low voter turnout, Sunday was disappointing. I went home thinking the next day had to be better, couldn’t possibly be worse. Of course I was wrong. Bless my heart.
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