The Roving Activist’s Blog

RA’s Note: Yesterday was Election Day, and I wrote this after I voted. A cleaned, more refined version of this will appear on the CDR blog.

Most folks who know me know that I have strong feelings when it comes to voting. I feel that as an African American, it is my duty to vote because people died so that I could have that right. I haven’t missed a vote since I was 18 (I’m 43 now), and I’ve served as an election judge and poll worker in several states, and the District of Columbia. The importance and potential historical aspect of this election served as an even stronger motivation for me to get out and vote even though I am recovering from surgery. I wasn’t going to miss this for the world!

My partner and I saddled up early, and arrived at the polling place about 6:30. My polling place is Salem United Church of Christ, located at 60 Bittner Street, only a few blocks from my place. This is my regular polling place, so I knew that I’d be on the books. I’d previously voted at the Center for Disability Rights because prior to this election, CDR was the only polling site that had an accessible voting machine. Now, with the state slowly crawling into compliance with the Help America Vote Act (HAVA), there would be an accessible voting machine at every polling place, and CDR would no longer serve in that capacity.

The polling place was wheelchair accessible via a wooden ramp, and I was able to get in the door by myself, even though the ramp and the doorway were narrow. The voting area was a small room; it looked like the only accessible part of the church. There was a very short line, and everyone was being asked for ID, which set off a red flag for me.

Election inspectors quickly found my name, and I signed on the dotted line, but the fun began when I asked to use the accessible machine. There was hemming and hawing, and a flurry of activity, and finally, I was told that I’d have to wait because the machine wasn’t ready. “Why isn’t it ready”, I asked. “The machine is supposed to be set up, and ready when the polls open”. “Well, this is all new, an experiment”, replied Vicky, one of the election inspectors. “We don’t know how to use these machines. They’re brand new”.  “What if someone else wanted to use the machine before I came”, I countered. “Oh, it’s only for the disabled”, said Vicky. “No”, I asserted. “It’s for anyone who wants to use it, not just for us. The New York State Board of Elections decided that months ago. If you do this, you’re separating my vote. This is segregation, Jim Crow, Apartheid stuff”! “That’s an interesting attitude you have about this”, mused Vicky. “It’s true”, I replied. “It’s a separation of our vote. People will know automatically that everyone who voted on this machine is someone with a disability. This is not good. Will our vote even be counted”? “Oh yes”, said Vicky. “Today, along with everyone else’s?”  “Yes!”

I took a deep breath. I really didn’t believe her, but I wanted to get this over as quickly as I could. I knew that I’d be making calls to CDR, and the Monroe County Board of Elections later on, so I decided to pay close attention to what happened while I was here.

Presently, I was led to the accessible machine. Apparently, they’d gotten it ready during my exchange with Vicky. I was advised that the process would take 30 minutes. Of course, I was not pleased!  Then we started.

Let’s just say, the experience was not pretty! First, I felt a stab of fear as I noticed that the voting machine was about a foot from the stairs! Vicky, and Mary, another election inspector, promised that they wouldn’t let me get hurt. Then, they set up the machine-or they tried to. It kept telling me that the ballot was unreadable. Neither Vicky nor Mary knew how to operate the Ballot Marking Device, or BMD. They kept referring to the manual. Finally, Mary tried to call in for help, but couldn’t get through. Vicky finally called her husband, who tried to walk her through the process. It turned out that they were loading the ballot in the wrong direction, and they had not entered the proper number. Finally, I got to vote. The actual process took only about 10 minutes-still too long for me, since I’ve been known to get through voting on an electronic machine in 5 minutes, or less! When I went through the review process, strangely, I had to vote again! The inspectors tried to take my ballot, but I told them that I hadn’t yet cast my vote. We went through the review process once more, and when Mary went to take my ballot, I said “Wait”! I then hit the green “Cast” button, my ballot slid into a box, and the number on the machine went from 0 Voters, to 1 Voter!

Whew, it was FINALLY over! Too bad it felt like pulling teeth.