Florida is a hotbed for candidates and this weekend was the time for their last ditch efforts to win our votes. I received 9 phone calls, 2 visitors, and a couple of fliers between Friday and today. Like the majority of us, I was ready to cast my vote but I don't think much of anything could have dampened my excitement. For once (or maybe twice) in my life I was actually compliant with one caller's suggestion that I vote early. I made it to the back of the line around 7am this morning.
Early voting was an option for me, but I'd avoided it for a few reasons: The lines were insane, but more importantly I wanted the full experience of voting on election day-even if I had to wait a bit today. My closest early voting station was a library about a mile away, but my precinct was the community center of my complex (within pushing distance). By the time I made it to the back, the line swirled all the way through the parking lot and up the long sidewalk lining our neighborhood's main road. I brought a book and waited...
and waited...
and remained patient while one guy called his friends loudly reprimanding them for not voting yet. It was around 8:14am by then...
and waited...
and practiced my well-honed ignoring tactics when a little girl in line whipped out her harmonica and began belting out an ear-piercing number...
and waited a bit more.
Two and half hours later and a couple of detours to avoid steps, I made it into the main room for voting. I checked in and received my ballot getting in line for one of the booths to complete it. When it was my turn, the polling volunteer gave me that familiar look of confusion and shuffled off. People pushed past me in line and again...
I waited.
She came back with a few more people in tow to tell me that there wasn't a place that I could reach for voting. She apologized but said, "there's nothing we can do." One of the volunteers offered a clipboard if I needed something stiffer to write on to bubble in my ballot. I didn't. What I needed was privacy. The ballots are bigger than my head-actually half my body! Filling them out on my lap with at least three people within touching distance makes it impossible to conceal my vote. The fix was obvious. A separate (=not equal) room or an isolated table might not be the most ideal solution, but it would have been acceptable.
Maybe my research on the barriers people with disabilities encounter at the polls prepared me for my finding that my polling station would be among the 90% that are not accessible. The Rock the Disabled Vote campaign rallied our numbers (over 200!). While I hope for better conditions in the future, I still wasn't disappointed by my voting experience. I felt empowered to scan my ballots and hear them flutter to the top of the stack inside the locked box.
[Photo caption: My dog, Bailey, wearing my "I voted today" sticker on her head!"]
When I left the polling station, I found a voters' rights volunteer outside. He was also advised of my experience inside by one of the women that was standing behind me (proof I'm really not paranoid that they could see/hear everything I was doing!). He suggested I fill out a formal complaint to have record of the problem and aim for better access in future elections. I filled out a short form and also twittered about my experience. When I got home, I reported the lack of privacy to Election Protection and to our very own DisabledPolitico. It was a long, worthwhile process with a few bumps along the way but I'm so thankful to have the opportunity to Rock the Disabled Vote!
