In the recent primary election (held August 18), I volunteered for a 14-hour shift as an Inspector in a Florida county, where my job was to greet all voters and ask for their photo and signature IDs. This is the rigid requirement to vote in Florida.

This meant I sat at an EVID (Electronic Voter Identification) computer where I took voter IDs, most commonly a valid Florida driver’s license, and scanned the driver’s license into the machine. If the scan didn’t work, I manually entered their last and first names and, on rare occasions, their birthdate. With that basic information, I matched the photo to the person standing in front of me, then asked them to verify their information (name, address, birthday) on the EVID machine, where they electronically signed to confirm it was correct. Falsifying that verification is a felony. This entire process took less than one minute.

What I heard from people was snippets of conversations about Florida life.

Many said costs were exorbitant; electric bills were forcing them to cut back on AC use. Many suggested where to buy cheaper groceries rather than at the major Florida chain. One man was moving to the Philippines where his $2,800 monthly budget would “let him live like a king.”  He was also going to buy a health care policy that would allow him access to private hospitals, and rent a larger, cheaper apartment there.  Another said he was retiring to Vietnam.

One voter said people in her large retirement community were walking away from their mortgages because they owed more on their condos than they were worth, and could not sell them after being listed for 70 days.  One man said he stopped dating because it was too expensive. A few said their Canadian neighbors were selling and moving over the border. Some mentioned rising Florida voting irregularities, even though state and federal officials have not reported any violations. It looked like the Trump propaganda on “voting irregularities” was working on some people.

One game I played was trying to guess a voter’s party affiliation the minute they stepped in front of me and presented their ID card. The EVID computer provided the answer, but it was fun to guess for about 15 seconds. White, Black, Spanish, or Haitian, it was hard to tell, but I got pretty good at it. What surprised me most was how many young people were NPA (No Party Affiliation) or independents. It looked like both parties weren’t addressing the needs of people under 30.

My six fellow poll workers were all over 65 and from both parties. Some limped, one had a cane, and a few were diabetic. Everyone brought their lunches from home, like in summer camp. None of us were members of country clubs. Still, everyone showed up at 5:30 am to help set up the polling place in the music room of an elementary school for the 7 am election opening. We stayed until the polling place closed at 7 pm, then broke down the booths, repacked all the voting computers, collected the signage, and, per Supervisor of Elections protocol, all left the polling place clean and exited at the same time. That was 8 pm, a 14-hour day.

Despite the media hysteria, being a poll worker in the Trump era is not difficult. There were never any threats. All voters were polite; no one complained (except about the heat, which was near 95), and some thanked us for showing up.

More people should volunteer as poll workers, especially younger people. Employers should provide paid time off for this essential civic service. Poll workers receive excellent training. It requires in-person classes on using election electronics and interacting with the public. It is a unique civics lesson: meeting people of all classes, races, and backgrounds.

As a poll worker, you become more engaged in local races and referendums, and take an interest in who won and lost.

While face-to-face interactions with people on the other side of the political divide may last only a minute, the process offers insight into the established tradition of one-person-one-vote, a system that is in danger of being destroyed.