Focus on mental health and public safety during contentious voting day
With violence and political division erupting in recent months in the United States, our contributing editor, Ronit Rose, prepares for her role as election judge in this year's presidential election. Ronit served a district in Chicago's Lincoln Park neighborhood. While she reiterated that she is not worried, the reality is that she will play a major role in the electoral process during what experts have warned will be a “highly volatile” climate, thanks in part to the mental health crisis and anxiety. A controversial election season.
In fact, Police Chief magazine made the theme of its September 2024 issue “Preparing for a Controversial Election,” writing: “An election year often brings a higher propensity for violence, but increasing political polarization has created a consistent environment for extremist attacks.” Police must be prepared to protect democracy by ensuring the safety of public officials and voters.
Researchers report that the United States is currently experiencing the highest rise in political violence since the 1970s, with at least 300 cases of political violence since the storming of the US Capitol on January 6, 2021. In recent months alone, people have twice attempted to assassinate Donald Trump, attacking Kamala Harris attendees At rallies, the Stop the Steal movement threatened violence on Election Day for fear of voter fraud.
I asked Ronette if she would feel comfortable writing about her experience as an election judge through a mental health lens. Here she writes about the strength she has found to stand up during an unsettling encounter – a small-scale reflection of the broader issues at hand.
—Katie Scarlett Brandt
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Ten years ago, I served on the jury in a murder trial. For four days, I traveled to the courtroom and listened intently to the procession of witnesses and lawyers trying to create a story about the timely death of a stranger. The judge, addressing the jury, told us that jury service is the highest profession for American citizens, next to military service.
I have since come to disagree. Serving as an election judge is at least on par with jury duty — especially in today's fraught political environment. The roles are similar: the days are long and sedentary, the chairs are uncomfortable, and you have to pay attention and stay neutral until the end.
The number of details an election judge needs to know is staggering. What do we do if someone insists on voting, even though the computer shows that their ballot has already been received? Does the voting station meet the requirements of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA)? Is this person's ID acceptable to register to vote? What should be done with the poll watcher who came in and served refreshments to the judges? The sheer number of possible situations cannot be covered in a 3 1/2 hour training session. There's a lot of pressure, knowing that any mistake you make could derail part of the process.
Chicago has 50 wards, with 1,291 congressional districts. Each precinct must have at least five judges, so the city needs more than 6,500 judges, who must undergo training and commit to a full day on Election Day. As an election judge, I've seen how logistically challenging Election Day is: It requires packing heavy electronic equipment and supplies into large metal cabinets, transporting them to the appropriate precincts, and arranging people to be ready to manage any situation that the election judges can't handle (from the equipment to voters who are having difficulty voting), ensuring that ballots are filled in the appropriate cabinets for their constituency (different constituencies have different ballot papers for local candidates), and that the rights needs of every citizen who passes through them are met.
I've worked in elections before, and this year, I was looking forward to participating in a historic election. We had large crowds of voters in the morning and a steady stream throughout the day. And they were a delight. They were enthusiastic, patient, grateful and kind. They were young and old, and they were excited to vote. They thanked us for our help, apologized when they made mistakes with their ballots, and respected the process.
We still have problems. But, unexpectedly, these decisions came from election judges, not voters.
In my experience, most election judges are eager to help and learn; They cooperate, exchange positions, and get along. But this time, some of them scared me.
Perhaps, because tensions were so high — fueled by the tension of the unknown and the potential for danger — these poll workers in particular lost sight of their responsibilities. They hastily assigned tasks and issued orders. While their instructions were helpful because of their experience, their personalities were annoying to the group.
At the end of the evening, as we were wrapping up our work, one of the self-appointed leaders ran out of patience in front of another judge and began berating him and yelling at him to complete a task that was not actually required to close the polls.
I looked around – everyone seemed frightened by her screams. But in her behavior I saw the injustice that elections are supposed to combat. I thought about times in history when people stood still. I knew I couldn't live with myself if I stayed silent. So I spoke up, hoping one of my fellow judges would support me.
I asked the judge to speak civilly so we could work together to complete the task of closing the polls. But this proposal did not achieve the desired result. My classmates stared in silence, terrified of becoming the next victim. And it turned on me. She shouted at me to leave, and asked for help from a representative of the Board of Elections who was sitting on a nearby couch, who appeared to be a close friend of hers. He told me to go with a click of his head.
But something happened: the more she blamed me, and the more the representative shook his head, the stronger I felt. I took an oath as an election judge, and I was going to keep it. I am also a journalist. I don't shy away from the developing story. Finally, I was legitimately concerned for the judge who was the first subject of her wrath. It was clear to me that he had a serious medical condition, and her actions seemed to make it worse.
When I stood on the ground, I stopped screaming. She directed her previous victim to squat down to dismantle some machinery. When I heard his ragged breathing, I offered to take over. A few minutes later, he handed me the tool he was using, a silent acknowledgment of his physical difficulties. I took over, and later he staggered to one of the chairs to sit down, wheezing loudly and as white as a sheet. With more than a touch of sarcasm, she expressed her concern for him and offered to call an ambulance.
I left that night fully confident that I had served democracy: I had helped my fellow citizens vote. And I stood up to the bully; I am stronger and better equipped to face future challenges.
But will I serve again? The jury is still out on this one.
Photography by Katie Scarlett Brandt
