Thursday Oct 29: Powerless

As tropical storm Zeta quickly passed through our area Thursday morning, Forsyth County was hit harder than any other county in NC. Nearly half a million homes and businesses lost power throughout the state including more than 50,000 here in the Winston Salem area. We knew the storm was coming so we had time to prepare at the voting site. IT tech Clint arrived mid morning to take the canopy down before it became a hazard due to strong winds. He said generators would likely be utilized if any site lost power, and he recommended I check with the BOE office downtown to ask about emergency protocols. While I was on the phone with a BOE staff member, the deputy director sent an email to all leads with blank Authorization To Vote (ATV) forms for us to print ASAP while our equipment still worked. I quickly printed 200 thinking we wouldn’t need that many but wanting to have extra just in case.
 
Greg texted to let me know we lost power at home around 10:30am. An hour later we lost power at the voting site. No electricity meant we couldn't print anything though our laptop computers and small gadgets continued to work on battery power. The DS200 ballot tabulator also continued working for a few more hours; afterward we placed ballots in an emergency vault to be scanned later. We raised all the window blinds to let in more natural light, and we allowed voters to use their cell phone lights for extra illumination. I texted Lois to ask if she could bring flashlights when she arrived for her afternoon shift. She didn’t get the message though. Unfortunately she had spent the morning at a funeral home with her family mourning the loss of her husband’s sister.
 
I texted the deputy director to let her know our power was out but that we were ok, that voters were able to vote safely, no worries. When Lois arrived I explained our emergency plan and protocols to the ladies working 2nd shift. Then I waited in the break room for Mia.
 
Mia had asked to speak with me and I was determined to make time for her. I knew she was unhappy so I prepared myself for her to vent her frustrations without interruption. She began around 1:45pm with broad philosophical pronouncements about leadership styles and spirituality before transitioning to slavery, white people treating black people like property, and the 19th amendment -- specifically how white women historically disrespected black women in order to protect themselves and their own interests. I nodded in agreement; did not argue with her about historical facts. Mia meandered a bit but I tried to give her all the time she needed to make her points. We were interrupted about 30 minutes in when 2 curbside voters needed assistance. I had intended to walk downstairs with Mia to help but she moved much faster than me and had already spoken with both voters before I had made it half way down the steps so I returned to the break room to wait for her. I had been up since 6am without a break. My energy level and attention span were fading fast. I called Greg to let him know I would be later than expected.
 
When we finally resumed our conversation, Mia picked up where she had left off. At one point I clumsily shared with her that I recognized my white privilege and I apologized for my shortcomings as a lead. She responded that she had observed me but not judged me, which triggered me a bit because I had felt her judgment daily like pin pricks in my tender skin. She said working the early voting temporary assignment had led her to wonder what she needed to learn from the experience, and what I needed to learn from it. She also said she didn’t see race, which struck me as odd because one of her complaints about me was that I favored white workers over black workers. “I don’t see race” is something Stephen Colbert used to say in character as a conservative buffoon on his Colbert Report tv show. Hearing a 20 year old black woman say it was surreal.
 
After reading books by Ibram X. Kendi about racism and implicit bias I committed myself to become an anti-racist ally of black and brown people. I truly wanted to hear Mia with an open heart and an open mind and to be unconditionally supportive of her. Yet the more she talked, the more weary I became. When she repeated herself about the 19th amendment without adding anything new, I felt I was listening to a broken record, scratched vinyl skipping to echo the same words over and over again. This was no longer a productive conversation.
 
Suddenly I remembered having similar conversations with Reid when he was a teenager, long meandering philosophical contemplations and debates about various topics. Then a realization hit me like a pie in the face: Mia is 20 years old. She is working a 17 day temporary assignment and she is disgruntled because she perceives she has been slighted, treated unfairly compared to other workers. She has been frustrated because Lois and I asked her to work curbside. We did so because she is young and fit, able to climb the steps faster and easier than the rest of the team who are older and heavier with a variety of health issues. Mia is also upset with me specifically because I hadn't taken time to check in with her and others more, to ask people how they felt and what tasks they actually WANTED to do, and because she felt micro managed. All true. As a lead I had been frustrated with her because she had missed scheduled shifts, come in late several times, and fudged her timesheet. I had asked her to do specific tasks, given her instructions how to do those tasks, and clarified expectations like asking her to use an umbrella to keep ballots dry in the rain. I wish I could have made the job more enjoyable and less of a chore, truly. But in 2 more days early voting would end and we would go our separate ways. As much as I wished Mia and I could resolve our conflict, I was doubtful we could accomplish that feat in the next 2 days, much less 2 more hours of conversation in the break room. Sadly, my amateur attempt to be anti-racist in that moment failed.
 
The realization of my faults and failures led me to wave a metaphorical white flag of defeat. I was ready to bring the conversation to an end so I could go home and get some rest, lick my wounds in private before trying again the following day. In closing I asked Mia if she was able to work Friday and Saturday, and what hours specifically she could work. After she responded I thanked her and walked out to my car. It was 3pm.
 
I called Greg to ask if he had eaten or needed anything. The power was still out at home so he didn’t want to open the refrigerator. I offered to pick up a meal from a restaurant if he would call in an order. His favorite Japanese restaurant in Winston Salem was closed due to the power outage but our favorite Thai restaurant in King was open so I drove in that direction. Every traffic light along my route was out. Alarge tree had fallen across Tobaccoville Road blocking my route to King so I pulled over, called Greg, turned around and drove home. He used a generator to warm soup in the microwave for me. Afterward I took a nap in the bedroom.
 
Around 6:30pm he woke me up to let me know I had missed calls and texts from Lois and the BOE. Apparently my text message that we were ok was interpreted as the power had come back on so no one downtown realized we still had no power at the Mazie Woodruff campus. We were the only voting site in the county, perhaps the state, to endure a prolonged power outage. BOE leadership scrambled to help Lois and the afternoon team keep the polls open until 7:30pm. They brought flashlights and lanterns and battery backups and extra ballots and ATV forms. Disaster was averted. After speaking with the deputy director and exchanging a few texts with Lois I eventually went back to sleep but woke up a few hours later feeling anxious. To calm my nerves I wrote a letter to Mia, an attempted peace offering. Writing the letter helped me feel a little better but I doubted it would be well received by Mia so I decided not to share it with her. 
 
Friday morning we still had no power at home. I washed my face with cold water, brushed my teeth, and dressed by lantern light. Then I drove cautiously to work, grateful to see functioning traffic lights from the Reynolda-Shattalon intersection all the way to Motor Road within a few blocks of the Mazie Woodruff campus. Power was still out in the surrounding neighborhood so the security guard sat in his truck in the parking lot waiting for me to arrive, then walked with me inside the building to the voting room, our path lighted by a camping lantern I had brought from home. BOE IT lead Adam was on the other side of the building waiting for us with fresh battery packs and fully charged equipment. He quickly and expertly readied the room. The polls opened as scheduled.
 
Mid morning Adam and Tim returned with generators to power laptops and the DS200 ballot scanner tabulator. We didn’t have enough power to use the printers so we continued hand writing information on pre-printed ATV forms. Facility maintenance techs supplied a separate generator for additional lighting inside the voting room.
 
While Lois attended the funeral of her husband’s sister I worked a double shift Friday, 7am to 8pm. Operations were mostly smooth and everyone seemed to manage well, except for Mia. She refused to come inside when temperatures dropped and refused to use a flashlight for safety after sunset. She continued to help curbside voters but avoided me as much as she could. I tried to be extra nice, supportive and gentle with her but that seemed to irritate her more so I backed off to give her space to be angry with me. Those who noticed her behavior chalked it up to her being young and stubborn.
 
Nearly 200 voters were accommodated Friday. It felt good knowing we didn’t close the polls early despite the prolonged power outage. And I was inspired by the people from nearby neighborhoods coming in to vote while power was still out in their homes.
 
Greg said power had been restored at our home earlier in the day, had gone off again for a few hours, then come back on. Internet remained offline.