It is Day 4 of Election Day. Here in The Shitshow Room, we’ve been working on a special cocktail to put one under until Inauguration Day. It isn’t quite there yet, and while a number of employees and customers have offered to test it, I’ve watched too many mid-20th Century monster movies to distribute it to humans or rabbits or other living things at this time.
But, let’s start with a Nice Thing: On the first day of Election Day, I worked for the first time at a polling station. I was what they called “an Accessibility Clerk” which is a fun name that made me think of all the times strangers have asked me for directions while I am lost in a city I have never visited before.
As Shitshow Room regulars know, this is pretty much the first presidential election of my adult life that I have not been in deep, working on election coverage. I was truly worried about what I was going to do with myself all day without the comfort of my familiar duties. I feared that I might be overcome by anxiety and a miasma of uselessness, and so I applied to work at the polls.
Polls in New York City open at 6 am and I was advised to arrive at my assigned station, a community center/school at the Martin Luther King Houses, in Harlem, at 5 am. I don’t think I have seen the waking up side of 5am in quite a while, though I have spent a considerable amount of time with “still not asleep yet” 5 am. Either way, it is still quite dark.
People were already lining up outside the center at 5:03 when I arrived. I was stunned. It was cold and blustery outside and I don’t know if it was the sight of the folks on line, or the lack of sleep or the wind, but teared up a bit at the sight. (It would not be the last time!)
About half of the people working this station were first-timers like me. The veteran poll workers—all Black women middle aged and older—were a little skeptical of all us rookies at first, but we quickly gained their respect. “This is my 45th time doing this,” one of the women said. “I wasn’t going to do it again, but ….” she laughed. “Well, here we go!”
I fought the wind to hang up the Vote Here and No Electioneering signs in accordance with an inscrutable schematic map that the Board of Elections had distributed, and mark the accessible route for people with disabilities. The line kept growing. It wrapped around the corner. And then suddenly it was 6 am. Open the doors! It’s Showtime!
The place was tiny and it was hard to properly social distance people once they got inside and close to the front of the line. All day, over and over I got to hand young men masks and tell them to wear them and instruct the older men to tuck their noses in as they went inside. I haven’t felt this powerful in a long time! I loved this power.
So many walkers and canes and wheelchairs accompanied people determined to vote. A number of older women came away from the voting machines in tears of joy and relief to have made it to another election day. One grabbed my arm, smiled, and simply nodded as she walked to the door. Another told me she had not been outside her apartment since February because of her health and Covid. Another came in a wheelchair, a few days after surgery. Her doctor told her to stay home, but she would not.
There were men in their 20s and 30s who were voting for the first time. (Everyone would applaud and cheer them!) There were little kids who came with their adults and were given “Future Voter” stickers and screamed “I’m a future voter!” as they walked out the door and zipped away on their scooters. There were a couple heartbreaking moments when someone showed up wanting to vote, and not knowing they had to register ahead of time. (Some states have same day registration, but New York does not.) We all called “Stay safe!” and “Take care” to each other. I said “Thanks for voting! Have a great day!” so many times my voice was hoarse by the time the polls closed at 9 pm.
When I got home, Craig was watching the election returns. After about five minutes of cable news I felt the exhilaration of a day spent witnessing democracy in action start to drain from me. Experts have been warning the ballot counting would take time. News organizations’ usual Razzle Dazzle Election Show Extravaganza seemed especially off this year. The KEY RACE ALERTS and GET READY FOR THE GRAND FINALE-vibe only can people feel like something is terribly wrong when there is no conclusion to come in an hour or two. I glanced at Twitter and sure enough, people were freaking out. We weren’t going to get anything out of watching people excitedly tell us nothing, so we put on the Trash of The Titans episode of The Simpsons. I had some wine and popcorn for dinner.
And so here we are at Day 4. As regulars know, The Shitshow Room has a lot of rules designed to protect its employees and customers from Jinxing. We will not be discussing the results as they stand right now in accordance with these rules. Also, if you happen to be in a newsroom, no whistling.
There is a lot say in the days and weeks and months ahead about the media and polling and how we run elections in this country. Has the Electoral College finally outlived its usefulness?
When I was a very little kid, I thought that the current president had to move out of the White House the day after election day and the new president would move in immediately. I would imagine everyone packing suitcases and boxes by themselves all day as the returns came in. I don't think it occurred to me what would happen in the event of recount or reelection and I definitely didn’t take into account the 70-plus days between voting and inauguration. I was a very little kid! Why would I? But this, by The Guardian’s Marina Hyde, kind of sums up how little sense it makes: “To put it in terms the rest of the planet would understand: this is like winning the World Cup in November, then having the losing captain use it as a toilet for three months before finally handing the brimming trophy over to you in late January.”
So as we brace ourselves for the days ahead, let’s end with a couple more Nice Things. I leave you with my pal and former coworker, Tom Namako’s celebration of the city of Philadelphia.
And finally, here is a photo of my nephews Micah and Caleb during a trip to DC in 2015. My sister Alison sent it to me this morning and I can’t stop looking at it. I think we are going to need to frame it and put it in a place of prominence in The Shitshow Room.
I call it Hope and Exhaustion.
Thank you for coming by The Shitshow Room!
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