Absurdity, Allegory and China

I’ve written in here a time or two concerning the rule of law, so it seems appropriate to illustrate what that term means to some people, and why it’s sometimes necessary to publicly demand it when confronted with its opposite. Below is an email from a US friend, a Democrat, who went to her polling station to vote yesterday in the presidential primary in southern Indiana, a politically Republican fortress, and met with official resistance from the poll workers. It’s a good example of the effort it takes for some people in the US to vote. That she was finally able to cast her vote speaks to her unwillingness to bend to meat-headed opposition.
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I voted today, but it wasn’t easy. I’m going to try to make this short and sweet, but I want to preface this by reminding you that the previous 3 times I’ve tried to vote, I’ve been turned away by the election workers who state my name has not been on the registration rolls. I thereupon wrote to several newspapers telling how I was disenfranchised as a voter. I received a letter from the Secretary of State with notification that I was indeed on the rolls.

1. I was the only voter in the place. I was beset upon by a grumpy old man when I approached the table at the polling place. He demanded to know if I was 10 or 11. Demanded my photo I.D.
2. Replied, “I’m much older.”
3. He said I had to declare one or the other or I could not vote. I had no idea what he meant.A lady at the table said “It has to do with how you’re going to vote.” A lady at the table said “It has to do with how you’re going to vote.”
4. “You mean my party affiliation? I’m a democrat.”
5. I was sent to table 11. Another grumpy old man challenged my identity and made me produce 4 more pieces of ID.
6. I was told my name was not in the registry. I told them to look under my maiden name. They would not, seeing no cause to, whereupon, I pulled up a chair and declared I was not leaving until they let me vote. Memories of the 60’s and sit-in at the administration building at my university fill my head.
7. Staredown for 20 minutes while I urged them to find my name in the rolls.
8. Finally a woman looked under my maiden name (because my last name is hyphenated) and of course, there I was.
9. I was told they were out of ballots, though it was 8:30 a.m.
10. I sat down again, “I don’t believe you. It’s only 8:30 a.m. I know how folk in this county try to prevent democrats from voting. I’m not leaving until I vote.”
11. Staredown for 10 minutes.
12. Woman appears from behind a curtain with a ballot. The ballot is very large, larger than a menu, but the writing is very small. I can’t see it even with a magnifier. “I’m going to need help reading and marking this ballot. I’m visually impaired.”
13. “We can’t help you, we don’t know how,” said grumpy pants.
14. Surely you went to orientation and were shown how to help people with disabilities.
15. “Yes, but I can’t remember what they said to do.”
16. “Doesn’t matter,” says I. “I’ll show you how to help me.”
17. Staredown 3 minutes.
18. The lady who offered me the ballot, then offered to read the ballot to me and help me mark it.
19. I voted. It was 45 minutes later. I was still the only voter in the place, but I voted.

At the same poll, earlier that day, D. had no trouble. But he’s a man, and didn’t hobble in like a rickety old soul. Imagine what they do to elderly democrats who don’t face them down. — J. (Reprinted with permission.)