90 minutes

I’ve registered voters, talked friends through the process and even researched judges to make provide information to others. Around this time each cycle I see an uptick in notifications related to “how to do this” or “how to do that,” its humbling, but not the goal. I remember being on the outside of this process looking in, so I don’t take the lessons, nuances and relationships I’ve gained over the years for granted. Being involved makes these last few weeks intense, whether staffer or volunteer there’s always skin in the game. Much like every election before, this is the most important election of our lifetime. I’ve watched debates and stayed civically engaged, but much to the chagrin of my colleagues, I had not voted until yesterday (10/26).

I threw on my Marathon Clothing “Crenshaw” hoodie, some joggers (which is an actual thing) and sneakers so Red I actually thought about taking them off in a certain section, in a certain part of town in Los Angeles, but I digress. I parked next to the old city hall, stopped by Mile Square Coffee (for tea) and as always whenever I’m there I always think back to more simpler times. I remember visits to the market and the city county building with my dad when I was younger — back then we (I) imagined how different things would look in 2020. We went from thoughts of having flying cars and space travel to the same conversations we’ve had around race for years and a voting system that’s long overdue for reforms and upgrades.

I walked past the westside entrance to the City-County Building, the line was already packed. I noticed campaign signs littered around the entrance and for the first time in my life, I seriously got frustrated with some of the fonts. I’ve never been that meticulous, but fam…some of these signs were trash. I caught a few friends as I walked to the end of the line near Washington St. I’ve hated lines since I threw my first party in high school, but there was no cutting in front or VIP entrance; I had to hold my L in the cool confines of 40 degree weather.

Over the weekend I saw conversations centering around five-plus hour wait times, with some edging closer to eight hours. I appreciate those who hold the proverbial badge of honor from waiting in-line, but it’s not supposed to be this way. My vote time was much shorter (around 90 minutes) but over that time span I did a deep dive on privilege.

What’s privilege you ask — google is a friend, but generally speaking privilege is:

a special right, advantage, or immunity granted or available only to a particular person or group

Within that space, you have agent groups and target groups. Agent groups are identities that hold unearned privilege in society. Target groups are more representative of identities that have long been disenfranchised. As a black cisgender male privilege varies, but in the 90 minutes it took to vote yesterday I was thought of a few examples.

• I’ve got a valid photo ID (there’s a small demographic of younger non-profit professionals that saw a lightbulb go off after reading that as a result of trainings, or actually being in the field.
• Transportation. I just hopped in the car. Although taking the bus is relatively simple, coordinating schedules timed with a similarly planned exit strategy could be tough.
• No physical disabilities
• Time. The crib is around a 6% unemployment rate, but I would bet those managing two-to-three jobs, could care less about percentages. Imagine forcing yourself to schedule time to vote, hoping to squeeze something in those two fifteen minute breaks and 45 minute lunch everyday. There are companies who could care less about civic engagement.
• Education. Whether inside or outside of the classroom, I was always taught to question things and do my own research. For whatever reason developing my own thoughts and opinions was instilled in me early. During these “divisive times,” I’m sure its all too easy to get caught in your own bubble, but that’s never been fun for me; more problematic in some aspects. With the same consistency I’m forced to challenge my values and beliefs, I’ve also been able to reaffirm where I stand. Every. Time. You can step all over the ideology I believe in, but it still comes out harder than the de-facto alternative.

Voter disenfranchisement is real, most notably for those from historically marginalized communities. I’m intrigued by early vote numbers, but how do you compare a year like 2020 to anything prior? More than one million ballots cast since early voting began, but you also have a global pandemic that has pushed us to innovate and find work-arounds. Grateful to those who pushed for early voting sites, but why does the most populated county in Indiana only have six early voting locations for 964,000 people, while Hamilton County has eight for 338,000 people? In previous election cycles we saw a an average of 300 voting centers/locations, this year we’ll have 187.

I don’t wear a long wait time as some badge of honor. I’ve got friends in other counties who have shuttled in-and-out within 10 minutes, but Marion County doesn’t deserve that kind of ease of access? Demographic data paints an interesting picture, as the county with a larger number of minority voters consistently gets the short end of the stick. This process should be more efficient, placing emphasis on everyone’s (registered voters) voice being heard.