Ditch the ugliness of politics and become an election official

It’s been a bit since I mentioned my “other job” to readers. Outside of my part-time role at The Gazette, I work on demand for my county elections department as a “Team Lead” for in-person early voting.

In October, I was leading a satellite voting location. My team of workers was comprised of two longtime married couples. The two husbands, each retired, were history enthusiasts. As we set up the polling place, they chatting about history. I looked at their wives and said, “These two are gonna be best buds by the end of the day.”

I was wrong — it only took until 11:30. In between interactions with voters, the two men exchanged interesting tidbits about history all morning (which, like all casual stories men tell back and forth, were undoubtedly true.) When it came time for election workers to begin their lunch breaks, the two gentlemen requested to take theirs at the same time to enjoy lunch together.

Overall, we had enough staff to manage for 30 minutes with both gentlemen out, but one key factor allowed their joint lunch to go ahead. Polling places need a partisan balance of workers on duty, a balance that can be derailed when multiple workers affiliated with the same political party are absent at the same time. The two new pals were able to enjoy a 30-minute lunch because one was a Republican and one was a Democrat, leaving our partisan balance intact.

Anymore, the notion a Republican and a Democrat striking up a friendship in a matter of hours can catch an intent political observer off guard. How can that happen in our era of polarization and bitter partisanship? Surely not by discussing politics. But political discussions aren’t permitted at polling places. That’s part of what makes working as an election official such a nice experience.

Perhaps it’s a bit ironic that the place where the most important of all political decisions are made is the one that is (purposely) devoid of political sentiment. Forget Capitol Hill or the Iowa Statehouse for a second and all of the big decisions being made there. No political decisions are more important than the ones made on the ballot. That’s where we decide who fills the seats in the fancy old buildings and makes our state and federal laws. It’s also where final say is had on changes to our state constitution or certain kinds of big tax increases.

Lucky us — those decisions aren’t made with grandiose speeches or ominous-sounding ads playing one after another. They’re made in an undisturbed environment set up by people who live and work and pay taxes in the same county as you. The most important political decisions an in-person voter makes are recorded in a politics-free zone. When a voter walks in the door, they’re greeted by friendly faces of nice people who seem sincerely pleased to be participating in the most important of all civic processes.

It’s politics without the ugliness of politics. And if you haven’t yet, you should try it: Commit to a day or two of service during the upcoming year to be an election official.

I can tell from experience how good it feels to be an election official. I’ve worked as one for 10 years now. For the last five, I’ve put in no fewer than 100 hours during each election cycle as an early voting worker. It’s no accident or coincidence that the polling place usually seems like such a harmonious environment.

When politics themselves are cast aside, people tend to default to pleasantries. Election officials frequently find that they enjoy the camaraderie of their fellow workers. Yes, that includes the ones from the opposite party with whom they never thought they’d get along ever again. That bodes well for more than just morale.

Election officials occasionally need to team up in bipartisan pairs to complete a task. Sometimes that involves transporting a voter’s ballot to and from their vehicle when a mobility issue makes it difficult to enter the building. (I myself used “curbside” voting one year, weeks after double knee surgery.) Other times, a bipartisan team will be called upon to help a voter who formally requests assistance in filling out their ballot. Experiences that might otherwise seem daunting almost always end up being satisfying, thanks to the collaborative spirit among election officials.

Every now and then, I’ll tell newer election workers stories from some of my previous experiences working in polling places. One year, we set up a satellite polling place under the bleachers at a high school football game and served over 500 voters in a matter of just a few hours. I had to shout ballot instructions to voters during the two minutes that the marching band played while lined up behind us. Another year I was leading a polling satellite at a local library when seven brand-new naturalized citizens attended as a group, eager to register and cast their first votes. that was neat.

In 2020, after Gov. Kim Reynolds issued an executive order restoring voting rights for most Iowans with previous felony convictions, the election workers tasked with updating their voter registrations made it a point to quietly congratulate each one who came through our door to vote. One of those workers was a brand-new election official. I told my boss that I wanted that person to return the following year — as one of my peers, in a leadership role. That wasn’t the first time I saw a novice worker become a seasoned pro. Nor have I seen the last.

I have a lot of stories from 2020, the craziest election cycle I ever worked, when COVID-19 shut closed most county offices, including the Auditor’s office, to the public. In-person early voting was held nearby in a county-owned storage building large enough to act as a polling site where both workers and voters could socially distance (remain six feet apart) at all times. At the end of each increasingly tiring day, our final task was to transport certain materials to another county building nearby. Because of the sensitivity of the materials, procedures required that they be escorted by a bipartisan pair consisting of one Democrat and one Republican.

Transporting those materials was not an enviable task — it involved rolling a cart in over sections of bumpy terrain in chilly October weather with only minutes of daylight left. But rarely was there ever just the required pair of workers to do it. Most days at least three or four volunteered to help get those wheels over the bumps and keep the materials safe. One night, a team of six — three Republicans and three Democrats — extended their workday by a few minutes to make sure our materials were transported safely. I will never not be proud to have been a part of that team.

Early voting workers like me sign on for a term lasting weeks. But most election officials are asked for one day, not including the training that the county provides. It’s a long day, but one well-spent, with a team of congenial people. I won’t pretend that there’s never an occasion where a voter is less than friendly, but each polling site has an experienced chairperson to help with the rare difficult situation. At the end of the day, each election official takes home the satisfaction of having helped ensure a smooth polling process for the hundreds of people who come to cast their ballots. They also earn a nice little stipend for their service, which for some makes a very nice difference in their holiday shopping plans.

Frequently, a voter will say, “Thanks for volunteering.” I make it a point to gently let them know that election officials are paid — treating election work as a paid contract, in my opinion, is part of what allows a county to set the professional expectations laid out during an election official’s training. But I never dismiss the notion of volunteerism outright. Usually what I say is, “We are paid for this work, but we know we’re a part of something special.” It’s easy to say, because I know it’s true. Election workers are a part of something special.

So, consider this column my shameless plug for you to consider becoming an election official. Election Day in 2024 will be here before we know it, and right now, your local elections office is looking for competent, reliable people — of all parties and even some of no party — to give one day of their time to making that process a smooth one. I always say that the best way of overcoming the stress and sourness so many associate with elections is to become involved in them. Being an election official is the best part of politics. You might find that it brings out the best in you.

Comments: 319-398-8266; althea.cole@thegazette.com